The Wall of Winnipeg and Me - Mariana Zapata Page 0,159

about, and I’m pretty sure Aiden pays you to support him, not call and nag. I know I sure as hell don’t want to listen to you right now. So, I’ll make sure to let him know you called.”

“Vanessa!” the son of an asshole had the nerve to shout.

“Yell at me again, and I’m going to make sure you regret it, do you hear me? I think you have enough to worry about without adding me to your list,” I growled into the phone, getting more pissed by the second. “And calm your asshole talking to Aiden too while you’re at it. I don’t appreciate you treating him like a little kid.”

“You’re a pain in—”

I pulled the phone away from my face and with my other hand gave the phone my middle finger. Putting it back against my face, I said, “Your ass, I know. I’ll let him know you called, but I’m just letting you know you should calm down before you talk to him.”

“He got into it with Christian because of you, didn’t he?”

“If you knew anything about him, you’d know he doesn’t do anything without a reason, so think about that.”

Trevor made a noise over the line that I quickly ignored.

“I’ll let him know you called. Bye.”

Yeah, I might have shoved my finger against the screen again a lot more aggressively than what was really necessary, but it felt like I needed to since I didn’t have a phone to slam into its cradle.

“He’s such a fucking asshole—” I started to say as I looked up, only to find Zac with a hand over his eyes.

I felt it right then.

Slowly turning on my stool, I found Aiden standing just inside the kitchen with his eyebrows raised.

“I hate him.” I held his phone out toward him. “And you should probably turn off your phone before he calls again.”

* * *

I was in my room hours later, when Zac slipped in through the door, his eyes bright, his expression that little-boy one that put me in a good mood. “Guess what?”

I paused the show I was watching and raised my eyebrows, sitting up straight on the mattress. “I don’t know. What?”

“I found it,” he said even as he skid across the floor in his pajamas, his cell phone clutched in his hand.

That had me perking up. “What did you find?”

Zac sat on the edge of my bed right next to me. His back was to the headboard as he held the screen between the small space between us. “Look.”

I did just that.

Maximized on the screen was an image of two men in Three Hundreds practice jerseys without pads. I didn’t have to look at the number on the bigger man’s shirt to know it was Aiden; I knew that body. I knew that body like the back of my hand. Plus, his helmet was off and hanging off the fingers of his right hand. I had to think for a moment about the guy standing a few feet away from him though. Number eighty-eight. Christian.

They were the only people on camera. With about five feet separating them, they were both facing the field where one could only assume was the rest of the team. There wasn’t any sound unfortunately.

On the screen, Christian happened to turn just as Aiden’s hands went to his hips, his body language deceptively casual if it wasn’t for the set to his shoulders.

It only took a few moments before Christian threw his arms out to the sides and took two steps toward the man I was married to. His stance became confrontational even before he pulled his helmet off and threw it, his feet taking him the two other steps between him and Aiden.

The big guy stood tall, his hands minutely flexing at his hips. Maybe no one else would notice the movement but I did. Christian’s face was visible on the screen, his cheeks turned red, his mouth getting wider as one could only assume he was yelling.

And then it happened.

Christian’s fist flew forward and Aiden’s head jerked back just slightly. The big guy took a step backward as his hands fell to his sides.

Christian hit him again.

The man known as The Wall of Winnipeg dropped his helmet on the ground almost casually. His big hands flexed and stretched wide at his sides shortly before he lunged. That huge fist went up and connected; Christian’s head flew back. Aiden hit him again with that dominant left hand, his big body up and towering over