Cowardly Or Not?

Tristan

I still couldn’t get the look in Hunter Beaumont’s eyes out of my head.

It had been at least five minutes since he’d left us in the parking lot and disappeared into the school building, but that glimpse of him staring at me and my father was still sitting at the front of my mind, irritating the shit out of me.

What had he seen?

The way his eyes had widened when Dad pulled me into that hug made it pretty obvious he’d noticed something.

I fucking hated it.

I hated the idea of Beaumont seeing me like that, even for a second.

Releasing the tension from my jaw, I relaxed my features and pulled back on that blank mask before returning my attention to my father. He usually hated it, my poker face as he called it.

“What?” I chewed out, trying and failing to keep the bite out of my voice.

But for the first time, Lucian Reeves didn’t take offence. He looked almost amused, grey eyes filled with a dangerous mirth.

Finally, he reached into his pockets and pulled out a set of keys.

On a closer look, I realized amongst them was the key to my truck.

My heart skipped a beat.

 “You know, son,” he started, the warmth in his voice sending a cold shiver down my spine. “I’m starting to think I was wrong about you. You really did that to the kid?”

Where was he going with this? I clenched and unclenched my fists in my pockets before finally forcing the words out. “Yes, sir.”

He hummed under his breath, and then a deep chuckle rumbled out of him. “You finally asserted yourself against him. A bit too late now that he’s part of your team, but better late than never, I suppose.”

What the fuck did he expect me to say to that? 

As satisfying as it had been watching Hunter get knocked around, it had nothing to do with fucking dominance.

The asshole had brought it on himself. Literally five seconds into walking into the locker room, he’d humiliated everyone on my team.

I had nothing to do with it. 

“So what are your plans now?” His voice cut into my thoughts. “Now that Hunter Beaumont is playing with you and not against you, are you finally gonna take some fucking tips from him and win the next championship?”

A bitter laugh rose to my lungs, but I swallowed it back.

Honestly, this beration was expected. Far more expected than that fucking hug he’d given me earlier, which I still didn’t understand.

Hunter Beaumont was a popular name in my household, and I could swear Lucian wished he was his son instead after every game I lost against him.

The hockey prodigy who could live up to his legacy at Raven Hill. The legacy that I ruined for the past three years.

When I remained silent, Lucian scoffed and then threw the keys at me. “Next time you get into a fight with a player better than you, break his legs and not his nose.”

With that, he climbed into his cruiser and peeled away from the school.

After his car disappeared from view, I bent to pick up the key that’d dropped to the ground when he threw it at me. But my eyes fell on a pair of cuffs.

Shit. 

It must have fallen from my father.

Picking both items up, I waited for him to return because if there was one thing Lucian could never forget, then it was his cuffs and gun.

But five minutes later, there was still no sign of him.

Well, I guess I’d give it to him when I returned home.

As I pocketed the cuffs, I pressed down on my key fob just because, nearly jumping out of my skin when my car’s alarm echoed back at me.

How the hell did he bring it here already?

Whatever. At least I wouldn’t have to walk home today.

Shoving the keys into my pocket, I headed towards the rink.

The guys were already gathered there when I walked in, and as Coach Morrison entered a few minutes later, I knew we were about to get our asses handed to us.

“What the hell were you boys thinking?”

There ya go.

Coach paced in front of us, and the next few minutes were filled with him telling us just how disappointed in us he was. If Beaumont had taken his words back, we could have been suspended. How foolish could we all be?

Blah blah blah.

When he was done ripping us a new one, which honestly was well deserved, he warned us to never gang up on Beaumont ever again. Apparently, he’s now a part of the team.

Nobody argued after that. But I knew the warning wouldn’t magically make everyone like Beaumont.

They wouldn’t touch him again, not if they still wanted to play, but there were other ways to make someone’s life miserable, and my guys were very innovative.

For a second, I almost felt sorry for Beaumont. But recalling his smug expression and shitty mouth, the feeling disappeared.

The rest of the day passed without him. I didn’t see Hunter Beaumont in any of my classes, which was strange considering he was supposed to be introduced to the class as the new student.

By lunch, I’d stopped wondering where he’d gone. Or at least, I told myself I had.

When the final bell rang, I headed straight for my locker and grabbed my shit. 

As I walked by, a couple of the guys tried to get my attention for some party they were planning or whatever, but I barely acknowledged them.

They were used to it and soon realized I was in one of my moods and stopped trying to drag me into their conversation.

I headed toward my truck in the parking lot, trying to leave before more students trudged out.

But just as I reached the driver’s door and pulled the keys from my pocket, a familiar voice came from behind me.

“I didn’t know Dad had given back your truck, Tristan.”

And this was exactly why I’d been trying to get out of here as quickly as possible.

The last thing I wanted was Evie finding out—because she would have questions. And I wasn’t eager to explain that Lucian Reeves had only decided I deserved my truck back because he was proud of me for letting a bunch of guys beat the shit out of Hunter Beaumont.

Gritting my teeth, I climbed into the driver’s seat and turned my gaze to her, where she stood in front of the truck.

I expected an accusatory look on her face, maybe throwing in the little pout she used whenever she was fishing for information.

Instead, her expression was so blank, it almost mirrored mine.

She was pissed at me.

“I’ve got somewhere I need to be,” I said instead of asking what was wrong. “But I can drop you home if you don’t have plans with your friends.”

After staring at me for a few seconds, Evie wordlessly opened the passenger door and climbed in.

I started the engine and pulled out of the lot. For the first few minutes, neither of us said anything, and Evie stared out the window.

Traffic was light, so I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel, thinking of a conversation starter when she suddenly broke the silence between us.

“You could’ve killed him, you know?” 

My jaw tightened instantly. So that’s what this was about.  She knew. Of course she fucking knew.

Keeping my eyes on the road, I forced my fingers to relax around the steering wheel. “Killed who?”

She whipped her head toward me, eyes flashing. “Dammit, Tristan, I hate when you do this.”

A small smirk tugged at my mouth. “Watch your language, young lady.”

“Fuck off. You’re not my father.”

That effectively wiped my smirk away, and I sighed. “Don’t worry about it too much. He needed to be knocked down a peg.”

“Hunter may be a jerk, but only cowards would gang up on one person.”

“I didn’t. I just watched.”

“And that makes it better?”

I only shrugged in response, and she let out an angry hiss. “You know, for someone you have a crush on, you really have an awful way of showing it.”

What?

All the blood instantly drained from my face, and I snapped my eyes to her. “The fuck did you just say?”