Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 (18 page)

“Ouch.” Caron slapped his hands over his chest, feigning pain. “Your girl’s got a sharp tongue, Mason. But I bet she’s a hell of a step up from your fag hag.”

“What?” Mason dropped his bag and strode toward Caron. Raif cut in front of the big man, not sure why he bothered because the stupid boy desperately needed a lesson that involved losing a few teeth. Fortunately, Mason wasn’t trying too hard to get past Raif yet. Raif knew very well he couldn’t hold the enforcer back for long. And the low growl Mason released didn’t bode well for Caron. “You wanna repeat that?”

“Sure thing. Everyone knows why Callahan and Perron keep Oriana around. Ain’t foolin’ anyone, but I’m glad to see you ain’t like them.” Caron shrugged and glanced at Raif. “No offense, Zovko.”

“Of course.” Raif’s jaw hardened as he felt Mason shoving against him. He couldn’t care less what these children thought of him, but the big man obviously couldn’t say the same. “They do not matter, Mason.”

“You’re right, but I’m trying to understand. Maybe I’m a little slow.” Mason’s lips curved into a very dangerous smile. “What makes you think Oriana is a ‘fag hag’?”

“You gotta ask? You got a doll like that.” Caron pointed at Sahara. “And you’re gonna tell me Oriana wasn’t just a fat chick you fucked during a dry spell?”

Raif stepped aside, quickly catching Sahara before she could attempt to stop Mason from tearing the stupi
d rookie apart. A solid punch from Mason knocked Caron off his feet. Caron landed on his back, blood spilling over his chin as he crab-crawled away from Mason. Spooner and Kelly latched on to Mason’s arms, but he didn’t even slow down.

“Dominik!” Sahara screamed, then hid her face against Raif’s chest. “Please stop him. Oh
God, please stop him!”

Trainers rushed out, followed by Callahan, who tackled Mason like a linebacker just as Mason dragged Caron to his feet. The three trainers managed to get the rookies back into the locker room while Callahan struggled with Mason, both men snarling at each other like they’d come to blows themselves.

Shaking hard, Sahara pushed away from Raif and headed toward the parking exit at the other end of the hall. Raif was torn between making sure the assistant coach and the defenseman didn’t kill each other and seeing to it that Sahara would be all right. He turned his back on the men and quickly caught up with the girl.

“I’m fine.” Sahara didn’t even look at him as she unlocked her car. “I can deal with hockey fights, but I don’t like violence. They will hurt each other. Especially when
she’s
involved.”

“You’re upset. You shouldn’t drive.”

“I won’t. Akira’s inside with Silver working over some details for next week’s Family Day. She’ll be down soon. I’ll stay in my car to keep warm and wait for her.”

A
car pulled into the garage and parked beside Sahara’s. Cort and Ford got out, Cort giving Raif a nod of greeting before stepping up to Sahara’s side.

Ford joined them a bit more slowly, twisting his lips and shifting his gaze when Raif glanced over at him. “Uh, hey, Zovko. Think I’d better apologize.”

“For what exactly?” Raif couldn’t recall anything the young man had ever done to warrant an apology. And apparently, if Cort’s frown was anything to go by, neither could he.

“You think Demyan, Carter, and Vanek know how to hot
-wire a car?” Ford stuffed his hands in his pockets and rested his hip on the hood of Sahara’s car. “Was feeling almost…I don’t know, like high, from the scene. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Was a dick thing to do.”

“Damn it, Ford!” Cort groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. He shot a half-smile at Raif. “I’ll give you two minutes to make him pay if you don’t bring this to the cops. I’ve got enough trouble with the law to last us a lifetime.”

Tempting, but no. Sahara had gone pale at Cort’s suggestion. Ford stiffened as though prepared to defend himself.

Shaking his head, Raif gestured to the door back in. “If he will stay with her while you aid me in separating Callahan and Mason, we’ll call it even.”

“Done.” Cort gave Ford a hard look, then led the way inside. The struggle had escalated to blows as Raif had predicted. Mason knocked Callahan into a metal partition and cracked him in the jaw with his fist. Cort grabbed the big defenseman, spun him into the wall and put a thick forearm against his throat.

Raif barred his arm across Callahan’s chest, holding him back as the assistant coach s
pat blood on the floor and glared at Mason. “I should fucking bench you for the next few games. You seriously let a bunch of rookies get under your skin?”

“You didn’t hear what they fucking said!” Mason latched on
to Cort’s forearm, trying to break free. “Let me go, Cort.”

“You wanna play, Mason, you’ll be doing it with me.” Cort bared his teeth in a feral smile. “And I’m good with that.”

“Cort, we are not even if you add to the problem.” Raif seriously wondered if the lot of them were insane. Callahan was laughing, which only angered Mason more. But Raif’s words seemed to have gotten through to Cort, because he spoke quietly until Mason stopped struggling.

Finally, Cort released Mason, who turned to the garage exit, then paused. “I still love her, Sloan. It’s over and I know that, but I won’t tolerate anyone hurting her. Not them. And not you.”

“Are we back on that, Dominik? I don’t hurt her in any way that she doesn’t enjoy. I give her
everything
she needs.” Callahan shrugged out of Raif’s hold. Then he shook his head and sighed. “I’ve been working on the rest. You weren’t wrong, man. I hope that helps.”

“People think you’re using her as a cover for you and Max.”

What should have shocked Callahan only made him laugh again. He moved past both Raif and Cort to put a hand on Mason’s arm. “We both know that’s not true. I could get all pissed off and argue that I’m straight every time someone says shit like that, but I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks.”

His words didn’t appear to comfort Mason, for he continued out without commenting or looking back. Callahan watched him go. Sighed again, then returned to the locker room, leaving Raif and Cort standing alone in the hall.

Cort cracked his knuckles and grinned at Raif. “That was too quick to count. I still owe you.”

Raif chuckled. “If you insist.”

“Worth whatever you need to keep my boy out of jail.” Cort held the door open as they made their way to the parking garage. “’Course, since you dropped the charges, might be nothin’ to worry about, but I can’t have him pulling this kinda bullshit with players on his family’s team. He pretends not to care, but he needs the team to make the playoffs as much as his sisters do. So you tell me if there’s anything I can do to help.”

If only it was that simple. Raif watched Mason walk to his car alone, still tense with anger and frustration. Aside from the assistant coach, as the team’s captain, Mason was who the team took the lead from. He’d been doing as well as could be expected until now, but he clearly needed to get the weight off his shoulders before the next game.

“It would be good if
I
knew what I could do to help,” Raif said.

Cort followed his gaze. “I had a brother like him once—I mean, a man I rode with. He lost a girl
, and we all thought he was dealing just fine. But he never talked to anyone about it. He’s doing life now. Mason took care of my girl for a while. He’s trained me a bit, but he never talks about
her
.”

“Akira?” Raif observed the girl, who must have gone around the front, because she now stood with Ford and Sahara and had somehow gotten the blond
e girl to relax and smile. “He trains you and still feels something for—”

“No. He wasn’t in love with Akira.” Just saying her name brought a smile to Cort’s lips. Then he drew in a deep breath. “Oriana, though
…I mean, her and Mason are in a good place. Friends or whatever. But if you wanna help him, you should probably get him drunk.”

That would be insane.
Raif couldn’t handle Mason sober. If the man got drunk, he’d likely have to call Cort in for reinforcement. Again.

Cort laughed and held out his hand. “Give me your phone and I’ll add my number. Call me if he goes nuts, but I think it’ll be fine. He don’t drink often. Last time I saw him tie on a few, he was pretty relaxed.”

Raif handed over his phone, and after getting the phone number for potential reinforcement, went over to where Mason was still sitting in his car, staring blindly at the dashboard. There had been more than enough time for the car to warm up. But Mason didn’t look ready to go anywhere.

He dropped his head back against the seat and rolled down his window at Raif’s approach. “Feel like celebrating our loss with me?”

No sure whether or not he’d lost something in translation, Raif hesitated. Then shrugged and nodded. “I would. But we’re taking my car if I’m going to be the designated driver.”

Mason laughed. “You’re just gonna sit there and watch me get drunk?”

“Yes.”

“Shit, I don’t give a fuck what anyone says. I like you, man.”

That had Raif grinning back. Besides Richards and Tyler, he didn’t have many fans on the team. And beside Zach, no friends. The night might not be a complete loss after all.

Even if he had to bail his new
“friend” out of jail by the end of the night.

* * * *

Laura’s second shift of the day was almost over. Time to head home. To her empty house.

How sad was it that she sort of
wished Tyler was there. His suspension was nearly over, but for some reason he’d decided this morning he needed to fly down to see his mom. She’d moved back to Tyler’s birth town in Greenville, North Carolina. With her new boyfriend.

Tyler hadn’t sounded happy about it when he’d called to let Laura know he’d be gone. As far as Laura was concerned, he was a little old to resent his mother’s boyfriends, but what did she know?

She coughed miserably, pulling a tissue from the box on the passenger seat to blow her nose at a red light. Dispatch came on the radio. “701.”

Her unit number. She picked up her handheld. “701
. Go ahead, dispatch.”

“We have a 407 in progress at Claddagh Pub at 15 Portland Street. Code 1.”

Wonderful. Why not end the night off with a few drunks?
She sighed and nodded. “701 copy and in progress.”

A strange sound came through the radio, like a distorted laugh. “701 contact dispatch via phone for specific details.”

Shaking her head, she pulled out her phone. Since it was a code one, meaning she didn’t need her sirens or lights on, there was no need to rush over without getting the details first. She made the call to dispatch.

“This is
Dispatcher Lambert.”

“Unit 701 responding.”

“Hey, Tallent. Just wanted to give you a heads up that we saved this one just for you,” the young dispatcher said cheerfully. “Sounds like a few of your Cobra boys are drunk again—they’re making ol’ man Roget nervous.”

“For Christ’s sake, they aren’t
my
Cobras. You guys are having fun with this, aren’t you?” She gnashed her teeth, staring out into the darkness as a few fluffy white snowflakes began drifting down. She took her job seriously; she’d worked her ass off to earn the respect of her fellow officers, and now, because of Tyler, she was being mocked by everyone at post.

To top it off, she was pretty sure she knew where she’d caught this
damn cold. She blew her nose again and slumped back into her seat. The boy was ruining her fucking life.

Whine a little more, why don’t you, Tallent? Just deal with the stupid hockey players and get home to bed.

Lambert cleared his throat. “I can send someone else if you want. Sorry, Tallent, Hamilton thought you’d find it as funny as we do, but maybe not.”

Freakin’
Ryan. Of course.
Only her foster brother worked crazier hours than she did and would find something like this funny. “It’s fine, Lambert.”

“You sure?”

“Have a good night, bub.” Laura smiled as she hung up, picturing the young man, always so eager to please and crushing so bad on her foster brother that he’d risk pissing her off. To a point. Ryan was completely oblivious, but he was married to his job. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone out on a date. She definitely didn’t want details.

But Lambert wanted to be just like
Ryan, had worshipped him for a long time. Which made her think of how Tyler had been with Raif. From what she could make out from the confusing side step of a line dance those two men were in, Tyler went from going all in to chickening out completely. And Raif wouldn’t act like a damn Dom and be firm with the boy.

Her lips curved as she pulled up in front of the bar and got out. Raif being a
firm
anything was actually kinda hot. She could admit that, even if it did nothing for her lady bits. Seeing his car parked in front of the Claddagh Pub put her in a better mood. Maybe she could give the Dom a very polite, very submissive, nudge in the right direction.