Breaking Away Read online

He wanted to scream; this girl was so fucking frustrating. He tried to be calm and caring with her, but most of the time, he just wanted to cuss and shake the shit out of her. He felt sorry for the guys he played against. He was slamming people into walls left and right on the ice, out of frustration.

  “You are damn right I would, but Claire, I am giving you everything you want and need. I am trying to make your life happy with me, but you won’t let me.”

  “Well, I’m not happy here. I’m bored.”

  “So you’ve said,” he replied, moving to his closet to grab his nightclothes. His days of sleeping naked were gone now that Claire shared a room with him.

  “Quit hockey, so we can go home.”

  He laughed. “Yeah right, I worked too hard to get where I am today. I am a first-line player, I am loved by everyone, and my contract is spectacular with the Assassins.”

  “Well, you need to work harder on making me happy because I am not happy.”

  He wanted to laugh again, but he knew that wouldn’t help the situation.

  “Why should I do that when you do nothing but make my life hell?” he asked, leaning against the bathroom door with his arms crossed over his chest. She shrugged her shoulders before bringing her knees up under her chin. It reminded him of when she was a child, and his heart jumped into his throat. Why didn’t he fight harder for her?

  “I don’t want to travel, Phillip. I’ve done it for like ever, and I just want to have a home.”

  He shook her head, letting his arms fall. “Claire, I have a home but, during the season, I’m not there that much. I’m sorry, but this is my life.”

  “But I don’t want it as mine. Can’t I stay at the house without you?”

  He laughed out loud at that. “Did you really think that was going to work?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I thought I’d try.” Looking away, she softy said, “I just hate traveling all the time. We never had a place to call home. Mom never had the money to keep us in one place, and I just want a home.”

  She was pulling at his heartstrings, and soon he couldn’t take it anymore. Nodding his head, he said, “Let me see what I can do.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears as she asked, “You won’t send me back to the crazy cat lady though, right?”

  Phillip shook his head. “No, but I’ll figure something out.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Thanks.”

  Entering the bathroom, he shut the door and slid down it until his butt hit the ground. Once there, he crossed his arms over his legs, and leaned his head against them. He had no clue what he was going to do. He had no family, except Alice, but she couldn’t help him. She had made it perfectly clear when they left that Claire wasn’t welcomed back, so that left no one. He couldn’t quit. He loved hockey and the Assassins, so what else could he do? He knew he had to do something though. Claire wasn’t happy, and he swore he would do anything to make her happy—to make the last sixteen years vanish from her mind. He wanted to help her see that she could be more than a two-bit whore. She was smart, she was beautiful, and he had no doubts that she could be something amazing. He just needed help to get her there. He couldn’t do it all on his own.

  Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he found the number he needed and hit call.

  After only two rings, Elli Adler answered.

  “Hey, Phillip, what’s up?”

  “I need your help, Elli.”

  She paused, and he could hear kids in the background. She probably wasn’t the greatest person to help him since she was busy with owning a team and raising a family, but Elli wasn’t only his boss, she was his friend. He trusted that she would know what to do.

  “Absolutely, what can I do to help?”

  PHILLIP SQUIRTED a mouthful of water, and then spit. Doing it again, he spit farther on the ice as he watched his teammate, Jordie Thomas, move around the net with the puck. Doing it for a third time, he spit even farther before turning to make sure Claire was still behind him.

  She was.

  When she sent him her signature glare, he rolled his eyes before turning to look back at the ice. She was not happy with him, more like furious. He thought when he asked Elli to help him that everything would be okay, that he would be giving Claire what she wanted. But he was dead wrong. Since Elli was busy with the kids and the team, like he knew she was, she suggested that Jakob Titov’s wife, Harper, take her on. Harper was a lot like Claire, and Phillip knew that she could handle the hellion he loved. Harper was all for it, and guaranteed him that Claire would be in great hands.

  One would think that Phillip suggested that Claire have all her limbs amputated. She cussed, she screamed, and she threw things, saying that Phillip was just throwing her off on someone else. That was so far from what he was doing that it wasn’t even funny. He was trying to get her the stability she wanted while he was gone. Harper said that she could have her own room, and he worked hard to duplicate it to the room Claire had in their house. He thought it was the perfect idea, but Claire didn’t think so. She was under the impression that he was going to leave her alone at his house.

  Cold day in fucking hell.

  She needed supervision. Two nights before, they were in the room, watching a movie. When Claire got up to use the bathroom, she was wobbling. He asked her what was wrong, and she started to slur her speech. Phillip got up, going to her, and she reeked of alcohol. Reaching for her orange juice, he took a sip to confirm what he hoped he was wrong about. She was drinking. He asked her why, and she told him that she felt numb when she drank, and then she promptly passed out. Clearing out the mini-bar while she slept it off, he actually wanted to cry. He had no clue what to do about her, and it was killing him.

  Claire’s issues were also affecting his game, and he didn’t know how to leave her out of his mind when he was on the ice. The only reason she was there right now was because he told her he would send her to Alice if she didn’t straighten up. She blew him off, but he could see the fear in her eyes and, even though he hated to threaten her, he didn’t know what else to do. He had done research. Everyone said to make her feel at home, to give her space and try to talk to her, but the only thing that seemed to make her happy was to leave her alone, and that didn’t work for him. She did stupid things when she was alone, so really he was fucked either way. God, he really needed this thing to work out with Harper.

  “Go,” Coach Baxter said, tapping Phillip’s helmet, and off he went. Rushing the puck, he looked left to see E. Titov waiting for the pass. Whipping the puck over to him, a forward from the Sharks stopped it, and passed it to his right wing, but Phillip was there, stealing the puck and rushing down the ice on a breakaway with Karson King, with Erik right behind him. He could have dropped it back to either of them, and they would have had a clean shot, but he knew he could deke the goalie out and get it in when the goalie went the wrong way. After doing just that, the Sharks’ goalie laid on the ice, slamming his fist as the King, Erik, Adler, and E. Titov wrapped him up in a hug. As the guys headed to the bench with the crowd going nuts, the biggest smile came across his face. God, he loved a home crowd. It was his first goal since Claire came home with him and, when he glanced up to where she sat, she was on her feet, cheering. He didn’t know if it was the atmosphere of the crowd cheering or if she was really cheering for him, but it made his heart swell. A little ounce of hope was renewed as he watched her smiling face.

  Maybe they would be okay.

  Or maybe not.

  Phillip was starting to think Claire was drunk at the game because, the next day, she was back to her angry self. Throwing her things in a box, she pinned him with a look that said she was pissed. He moved a packed box into the hall as she yelled.

  “If you think I’m going over there and being her personal babysitter, you got another thing coming!”

  Phillip shook his head. “Harper isn’t going to ask you to do that.”

  “Whatever, that’s pro