white stuff away.
Hayley motioned to the people who’d stepped out onto the deck to watch. “Show’s over.”
When the onlookers shuffled inside, he wiped at the foam on his pants. “Would have preferred a Taser for a backup, but you got the job done.”
“Don’t,” Hayley warned. She turned away from him. “Go inside and call your mom, Brent.” She waited until the teenager followed the others inside, then shot a furious look at Jackson. “They look up to you, damn it.”
Adrenaline from the fight still pounded through his system, making it all too easy to snap at Hayley. “I didn’t ask to be anyone’s role model.”
“Tough shit. It comes with the territory. You know that.”
“I’m not that guy anymore.” Did she get that by now?
“Screw that.” She set the extinguisher aside so hard it fell over. “Just because you’re not playing professional hockey anymore doesn’t mean you’re some washed-up loser.”
“Says who? You?”
She threw her hands up. “Someone needs to.”
“It’s not that simple.” He closed the distance between him and the bottom of the stairs. “Your dream isn’t over.” She still got to do what she was good at. No one looked at her wondering what would become of her now. No one waited until she walked by and talked about what a shame it was about the accident.
“And your life isn’t over because you can’t play hockey anymore.”
In two steps he was face-to-face with her. “Don’t act like you know anything about my life.”
“The life you enjoy splashing around the Net for the media to mock?”
Anger pulsed through him. “You should know better than anyone that there’s a lot more to any picture that shows up online.”
Vulnerability flashed across her face. She pressed her lips into a firm line. “I’m not so sure I do.”
That struck a nerve. Jackson walked away, refusing to look back and see if she remained on the deck watching him or if she’d already gone back inside.
By the time he reached his car, most of the foam had been washed away. He dug his keys from his pocket and shoved them in the ignition. It took two tries to get the engine turned over, and then he was tearing out of the lot, probably giving her another reason to arrest him.
He drove aimlessly, circling blocks with no destination in mind other than not going back to his parents’ place. He could leave town now. Go home to his condo hundreds of miles away, where he didn’t have to worry about living up to anyone’s expectations but his own.
His empty condo.
Fuck.
He let his head thunk back against the headrest. He wasn’t ready to go home yet. Wasn’t even sure where home was anymore. Returning to Promise Harbor wasn’t supposed to have complicated his life.
On his third pass by the rink, he pulled in to the empty lot. He sat staring through the windshield at the building he’d helped renovate with a generous donation.
When the rain slowed to a sprinkle, he got out of the car. Still way too keyed up, he wandered around the paved lot where the Zamboni usually dumped everything after cleaning the ice surface. He leaned against the hood of his car, trying to sort through the chaos in his head.
Once he wrapped up a couple things, he could be on his way. He needed to make sure Josh was good and he needed to see Coach. Hayley needed professional help getting everything done to her grandfather’s place. There had to be someone he could call about that.
Then he could go. Maybe travel down the eastern seaboard until he heard from his agent. There. A plan he could work with.
Mind made up, Jackson felt himself relax. He didn’t rush to get back in the car, not until the rain worsened, leaving him no choice but to take shelter inside the vehicle. Even then he stayed in the rink parking lot until he felt something close to normal.
This time, however, when he was ready to go, the engine refused to turn over.
He waited a minute and tried again, his earlier frustration instantly surfacing. He flipped the button underneath and threw open his car door. In the pouring rain, he lifted the hood and stared at the under workings of the car, wishing he’d paid more attention to all the time spent in Matt’s garage as he tinkered on his first car.
Jackson fished his cell phone from this pocket, started to dial his friend, then remembered how busy he probably was since he’d asked Hayley to