Clipped by Love (Bellevue Bullies #2) Read online

  Pushing myself up, I skate off the ice, bent over, still gasping for breath before getting off the rink and heading to the locker room. Entering, I drop down on the bench and just lean back into my locker, letting my breathing regulate. I’m the only one here, so I take a moment to breathe. Usually I rush to get undressed and in the shower, but today, I’ll breathe.

  When I’m breathing normally, I still only take my equipment off, leaving my tank and shorts on as I enter the showers with my towel and shower caddy. Must be habit, I guess. Going to my shower, which is the one in the corner so if anyone peeks in the window they can’t really see anything, I turn it on the hottest setting and remove my tank and shorts before pulling my hair out of its braid.

  Going under the hot stream, I close my eyes and let the water just relax my aching muscles. Resting my hands behind my head, I suck in a breath and let it out slowly, just enjoying the hot water against my cool skin. Ugh, I needed this. Reaching down, I get my shampoo out of my caddy and start washing my mane of hair. After washing all the soap out, I put in conditioner, letting it soak in as I wash my body. I’m about to wash off when I hear the door open.

  Looking back, I gasp, covering my lady bits as McCarthy strolls in, obviously unaware I’m here.

  “Um. McCarthy, I’m in here,” I say, and he looks over at me, shrugging before going to the shower four down from me.

  Okay, maybe he is aware and he’s just a dick.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So I’m trying to wash,” I say, turning so he can only see my back…and bare ass.

  “I don’t care. I just got done working out; I need to shower before class.”

  “Okay, I’ll be done in—” I cut off when he drops his towel and turns the water on.

  Yeah, I didn’t want to see his dick.

  Looking over at me, he says, “I’m taking a shower, and you’re not going to stop me.”

  As his gaze roams over my body, his eyes are menacing, and within seconds my chest hurts from my heart pounding in it and all I can do is blink. Finally, I recover; he won’t do anything to me. He wouldn’t dare. I’ll just hurry.

  “Oh, don’t be shy, baby doll. I won’t look,” he says, and then he grins. “Much. Nice ass, by the way.”

  “Disgusting,” I mutter, trying to go under the stream with my back to him to get the soap out of my hair.

  “What, scared I’ll touch you? Force you to do something you don’t want to?” he asks and I pause, my hands in my hair.

  “You touch me, I’ll kill you.”

  “You know you want it. I see you looking at me,” he calls over to me, laughter in his voice.

  “I’m not playing, McCarthy. I will hurt you,” I warn, looking over my shoulder at him. Washing my hair out, I try to be quick but I have so much hair.

  “No one could hear you screaming, you know,” he warns then, and fuck it, I’m out. I’ll wash my hair at the house, or better yet, my dad’s.

  Reaching over, I turn off the shower and grab my caddy and my towel, wrapping it around myself before heading for the door. But before I can reach it, he grabs ahold of my arm, knocking my caddy out of my hand, my hair and body stuff hitting the tile in a crash.

  Whipping me to him, he grins and his dark eyes bore into mine. “Where ya going, baby?”

  My heart is in my throat. I feel frozen, but there is no way I’m getting raped by this fucker. Ripping my hand out of his, I pull back, my fist coming forward and getting him in the mouth. His head whips back and he goes to call me something, but then I go to kick him in the dick and he blocks me, pushing me against the wall. Covering my body with his big one, he goes for my hands, but I’m swinging and kicking with everything inside me. When his mouth comes down toward mine, I bite his lip, causing him to scream out before covering his mouth and glaring at me. I’m ten steps from the door—all I have to do is get him away from me and I’m golden. Because he’s right, I can scream all I want. My dad won’t hear me in his office.

  When I look back from the door, he backhands me across the face, knocking my head to the side, and fuck, it stings. But I recover, glaring up at him, not even feeling the sting that much.

  “You motherfucker!” I scream before I kick him hard in the gut.

  He goes back a few steps, his dark eyes flaring, and I make a run for it. My towel has fallen and I’m naked, but I need to go.

  But he gets me by my breasts, his nails biting into them, making me scream as he brings me back into his hard cock. I try to shake him free, but he isn’t budging, his lips by my ear as he laughs in such a disgusting and menacing way.

  Just as the door opens.

  And Jayden steps in.

  Surely I’m imagining what I am seeing right now.

  But I’m pretty sure McCarthy is holding my girlfriend by her boobs.

  And she’s naked.

  And so is he.

  But her mouth is bleeding and her eyes are full of fear.

  So that means one thing.

  McCarthy is about to die.

  I yank her by her arm behind me, and she goes with a yelp. I smash my fist into McCarthy’s face before he can even sputter any kind of fucking lie to me. His head whips back, and when it comes forward again, I do it again and again and one last time before he falls onto the ground, his hand going up and trying to stop me. By then I’m kicking him in his gut. I hear Baylor yelling something, I feel her trying to stop me, but no, this dude is going to die. I go to reach for him to beat his ass some more—the rage is all-consuming—but then someone is pulling me back who is not Baylor. When Coach throws me up against the wall, he shakes me hard.

  “That’s enough, I said!”

  I’m breathing hard, my hand is aching, but all I can think about is Baylor. I look over at her and she’s holding herself, tears streaming down her face as she shakes. I’m not sure if she’s cold or in shock, but I go to her, looking her over. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, he just hit me; he didn’t rape me. He only tried.”

  “Lying bitch!” McCarthy yells, and I look back at him.

  He’s still alive?

  “Someone better start explaining, right now!” Coach yells before throwing a towel to Baylor. Looking her over, I see that she has red marks all over her, her mouth is bleeding, causing anger to burn my body. I help her cover up with the towel I find on the floor before I wrap my arms around her, but she squirms out of them, shaking her head. “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not,” I say, taking her back in my arms. When she starts to sob into my chest, I kiss her forehead as McCarthy starts spitting nothing but lies.

  “He came in here and whooped my ass for nothing!”

  “I highly doubt that,” Coach says, looking back at us and raising an eyebrow.

  “No, she put the moves on me, and he got mad because she’s been fucking him too,” McCarthy yells, wiping the blood from his nose. “She wanted it.”

  “You’re a fucking liar! He tried to rape me!” she yells back, her body trembling against mine. “I came in here to shower, and when I was washing my hair, he came in and wouldn’t leave. I asked him to leave then told him, and he wouldn’t. When he said he could touch me and no one would know, I tried to leave and he grabbed on to me. He backhanded me, and I punched him in the mouth and kicked him in the gut. Dad, I’m not lying!” she says, probably because McCarthy is calling her a liar left and right.

  “Coach, I came to the locker room to suit up to do some laps, and I heard a scream. I walked in, and she has blood coming from her mouth and he had her by her boobs. I didn’t think; I acted. I won’t apologize for whooping his ass. You don’t touch a woman like that.”

  Coach looks back at McCarthy and he stands stone-faced, his eyes wide as he shakes his head. “I didn’t touch her. She came at me.”

  “I would never,” she sneers from my arms.

  “Why were you in here?” Coach asks. “I’m pretty sure the captain has enforced the rule to wait till she is done. And if you didn’t kn