Confessions (New Beginnings #4) Read online

  Confessions

  A New Beginnings novel

  by

  Michelle Lynn

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Michelle Lynn

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Printed in the United States of America

  Cover by Rachel Bostwick

  For the love of hockey and the ones who love it with me.

  Let’s go Jackets!

  Acknowledgments

  This book came together rather quickly, in part because it truly is a labor of love. That might sound cliché, but it doesn’t make it any less true. I love my readers. Those of you who have spent your money and your time with the characters that feel like family to me. I only hope they feel as real to you. I wrote Confessions for the singular purpose of giving something back to you.

  Self-publishing has been a wild ride that I wouldn’t change for a second and you all have allowed me to enjoy it. Both the Dawn of Rebellion series and the New beginnings series have now been picked up by a publisher and I couldn’t have done it without you. So, this is my thank you. I hope you enjoy your free novella about Mack and Abigail, two characters who began their journeys in Dreams.

  As always, I owe so very much to my family. They support my writing, help me deal with long-term health issues, and feed my hockey obsession.

  My beta readers – Kayla, Kimberly, Michelle, Bethany, Linda, and Beth – keep me honest and tell me when my story isn’t cutting it.

  Patrick, my editor, balances out my comma deficiencies.

  Cover genius Rachel continues to bring my stories to life.

  And the Blue Jackets. You might think it’s odd that I thank a sports team. I am only one of many many fans, but you don’t have to play a sport to learn a lot from it. Sports teach us that the little guy can win – that underdogs are exciting. Anything can happen on any given night and that’s amazing. Inspiration comes from many places. I tend to believe it comes from all places.

  One

  Rumors usually contain a kernel of truth. Multiple sources are telling us that General Manager John Simms is dangling star center-man Grant Mackenzie, waiting to see if anyone bites.

  “We’re exploring all avenues,” he told the dispatch.

  Next Monday is the final day trades can be made before the playoffs, and no one would be surprised to see the rumor-plagued Mack take the ice for a different team this spring.

  ###

  The trade deadline has passed much more quietly than anyone anticipated. The question that remains in many of our minds is: what does this mean for Grant Mackenzie’s future with the Columbus Blue Jackets? Was the asking price too high, or is it his reputation that’s keeping teams away? How willing was Simms to part with arguably the best player on the team? Have his troubles been overblown?

  Since his years playing junior hockey, Mackenzie had been tagged with the label “lazy”. True or not, it isn’t something easily shaken. Along the way, coaches and scouts have said he has the God-given talent to become one of the best in the world, but none of the drive. In his draft year, he fell from fifth overall to seventeenth largely for this reason.

  And now he’s been called “troubled” on top of that. His partying was frowned on, but allowed as long as he continued to put up points. It reached a tipping point when he was involved in an altercation at the Blue Jackets charity ball, the other man involved accusing Mack of being on drugs. An allegation like that cannot just be swept under the rug.

  Mack is a pending free agent this summer, but all contract talks have been stalled until after the playoffs. We’ll be keeping you up to date on all new developments.

  ###

  “Game six? No problem,” Mackenzie says.

  Leading the Jackets to an impressive rout of the Washington Capitals in game six of the second round of the Stanley Cup playoffs, Grant Mackenzie played like a man possessed. He lifted the team on his shoulders after dropping games four and five. The Jackets will move on to play the New York Islanders. If they expect to get past the Islanders, Mack will need more support from the rest of his team.

  Maybe all Grant Mackenzie needed was a rumor or two to light a fire under him. He’s playing as if he’s determined to prove everyone wrong.

  ###

  A bead of sweat ran down the strand of hair that clung to the grooves of a scrunched forehead. Concentration. Exhaustion. Will. That was the only thing that kept them going in game seven. A will to win. A will to get that much closer to that shining silver prize. A will to just not topple over, legs collapsing to the ice. Legs that were now ten minutes into the second overtime.

  That bead of sweat arched over a brow before inching down a chiseled cheek, reddened by exertion. When it crossed the strong jaw, it hung briefly on his lips before Grant Mackenzie blew out a long breath. The small pearl sailed towards the ice, making a small splash that no one heard. It was one of the many clues that proved a battle took place in that building on that night.

  The red light signaling a commercial break blinked off, and Mack bent over the face-off circle. He looked up briefly to give a slight nod to his line-mate, Carter, on his left, and then focused.

  The crowd was chanting and had been on their feet for the entire overtime, but Mack tried to block them out. The fast, yet steady drumming of his heartbeat pulsed in his ears, muting all other sounds. He’d never wanted a win as much as he wanted this one.

  Using his size to his advantage, Mack won the face-off, sliding the puck over to Carter. He took off towards center ice. One goal and they’d get the chance to do it all over again in the conference finals. Or, one goal against and it would all be over. Their season would be for naught.

  Mack’s tired limbs forced themselves into a long stride to try to provide support for his wingers. He’d had more ice time than any other forward, and it was wearing on him. By this point in the game, no one was at their full speed. It became a game of attrition. Who could outlast the other guys?

  An Islander ran Carter into the boards, okay - more like pushed because his strength was waning. Carter took too long to recover, and lost the puck.

  Mack could see it as he raced up one side of the rink. The end. He knew what was going to happen. The Islander’s rubbery legs had just that much more energy in them than Carter’s as the rookie chased after the puck. A Jackets defender moved in, but the Islander passed to his teammate who was camped at the side of the net.

  They would have been able to stop it in a normal game. They may have even been able to win the game. But tonight they had nothing left. Their tanks were empty, and it was too late.

  Mack circled around the net as Islander players poured off the bench to celebrate. Any other day, Mack would have laughed at the three guys who fell over the boards because they were too exhausted to climb. The team mobbed their goaltender as Mack fell to his knees in front of his bench. His head sat heavy on his shoulders, but he strained to hold it high.

  There was no sense of loss, of defeat, only a pure and complete bone weariness. It would hit him in the coming days, he knew. His season was over. But those thoughts took energy, and he was utterly depleted.

  Olle, his captain, offered him a hand, and he took it to pull himself upright. The team that had been sitting in stunned silence watching their opponents celebrate moments before, now skated togeth
er across the ice.

  It was the greatest tradition in sports, Mack always thought The hand shake. The two teams lined up and skated towards each other. The winning side said things like “you played well” or “great series”. The losing side wished them luck on their journey towards the Cup.

  And then they parted, one team to continue chasing their dream, the other to start planning for next season and another chance at the playoffs.

  ###

  “I’m proud of you boys,” Coach Peterson said, scanning the faces around the room. A few looked up while others hung their heads or leaned back into their locker stalls. Mack gripped the back of his sweat-soaked shirt and pulled it off over his head before tossing it in a nearby laundry bin.

  He walked the few steps towards his stall and sat down, one hand massaging the muscles in his neck.

  The coach paced in front of the team before stopping next to assistant coach Scott and continuing his obligatory speech.

  “You fought hard,” he said. “No one expected us to even get past the first round. No one believed. Except for you. You believed. You worked for it. The people in this room knew more about this team than those waiting outside those doors. We were one goal away from the conference finals. That’s a step. We’re building something great here. That’s not what you want to hear. It’s not what I want to say. No one wants to be told they’ll get their chance next year. But here we are, our season over. Next year is what we have. You can wallow in this defeat, or you can go home this summer and work harder than you ever have before, preparing to do it all over again.”

  He looked sideways at Coach Scott and nodded.

  Coach Scott stepped forward. “The media has been told none of you are available tonight. Coach Peterson and I will do the interviews. Most of you look like you can barely stand. See the trainers if it’s more than weariness. If not, hit the showers and head home to your families. Before any of you leave for the summer in the next week, we’ll be holding individual meetings.”

  Mack’s legs strained with each step as he headed for the showers. The icy blast hit him full force before turning warm. Placing one hand against the wall, he held himself up, letting the water run down his spine. His back cracked as he straightened up.

  Ten minutes later, he was dressed is his suit and making his way gingerly towards the doors. He only lived a few minutes’ walk away so he never drove, but the prospect of taking any more steps was daunting.

  It was late when he stepped out into the warm May air and away from the shadow of the arena. A car idled near the curb. Mack smiled slightly when he recognized the Lexus. Opening the door, he collapsed back against the plush leather seat with a sigh.

  “Figured you could use a ride,” his buddy Josh said as he pulled out and started heading down Nationwide Boulevard.

  “You have no idea.” Mack leaned his head back and shut his eyes.

  “I don’t know how you can fall asleep right now,” Josh chuckled. “I was always too wired after games.”

  “This wasn’t just a game, Josher. Round two, game seven, double overtime. I’ve never felt anything so intense.”

  “I was watching from center ice tonight, wishing I was out there with you.”

  Mack opened his eyes and looked at his friend. “You know I wish you were too.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Josh was Mack’s favorite line-mate. They’d worked so in sync with each other, reading the play. When Mack had the puck, Josh knew where it was going to be next and vice versa.

  Then everything changed.

  Josh saw his career end when he was diagnosed with a heart condition. The scariest moment of Mack’s life had been when Josh collapsed during a game. He wasn’t the mushy type, but the dude meant a lot to him.

  And now he had to do it without him. This hockey thing. The dream he’d always had but never fully bought in to. He played hockey because he was good at it. Josh had played because his heart, his soul wouldn’t let him do anything else. In a way, Mack thought it was unfair that he got to keep going when someone who loved it so much more had to give it up.

  The guilt used to eat away at him. Now, he used it to push himself to work harder. To want it more. He owed it to Josh. He owed it to himself.

  Josh pulled up outside the apartment they shared, and Mack didn’t waste any time getting inside and collapsing into bed fully clothed.

  ###

  Abigail Stewart considered herself a smart girl. She enjoyed a good party as much as the next college student, but never went alone. She chose her friends carefully and knew how to spot the wrong type of person on sight.

  Colin Higgins was that kind of person. But she hadn’t seen it at first. How had she missed it? He’d seemed so put together, so sweet. He’d tempered her wild side, and she’d brought his out into the open. They were opposites, and Abigail thought that was what she needed. Ice to her fire. Calm to her storm.

  Now she knew she was wrong. She wanted someone who could match her flame for flame. Someone who could challenge her. Someone who could make her love him.

  Colin loved her. He’d said it early and often as a way to control the narrative of their relationship. She responded in kind, but only because he scared her. He was unpredictable. Vindictive.

  How had she not seen it?

  Probably the same way no one else seemed to see it. Even her best friend and roommate, Taylor, thought he was perfect for her.

  Six months.

  That was how long it had been since the relationship turned from roses and gallantry to ultimatums and threats. No, he didn’t hurt her. She didn’t think he ever would. He even treated her pretty well a lot of the time. But, there was a boy she cared about. A boy whose athletic career took a hit when Colin accused him publicly of being on drugs.

  There was the fight at a charity ball. Then there were the news articles. Colin retracted his statements after giving her a choice. Be with him and only him and “golden boy” would be fine. The other option meant Colin spreading his lies in the media.

  The damage had been done already. Since then, barely a week went by without some journalist speculating as to the future of Grant Mackenzie, the uber-talented, under-motivated bad boy.

  Grant Mackenzie. The boy Abigail still couldn’t shake. She hadn’t seen him in months. No, there was no boy left in him. He was about as much a man as you could get.

  Their time together had only been a one-night thing followed by a lot of avoiding, then flirting, and finally there were the looks. Every time she’d met his eyes back then, another hole would open up inside of her. She didn’t believe she’d ever be enough for him, so she waffled on the idea of ever giving him a chance. Then Colin made the choice for her.

  “Are you even listening to me?” Colin asked irritably.

  “Sure.” Abigail was distracted as she watched the replay of the final goal, eliminating the Jackets from the playoffs. She’d never been a hockey fan, but now she watched every game, wanting to see Mack’s smiling face.

  Only this time he wasn’t smiling. Her heart broke for him as he sank to his knees on the ice. If the newspapers were to be believed, that could have been his last game as a Jacket.

  The camera zoomed in on him and his teammates. Sweat ran from his short, dark hair, past deep chocolate eyes that were hooded in disbelief and exhaustion.

  Colin reached around Abigail’s back and grabbed the remote, shutting the TV off with one click.

  “Give me that.” Abigail snatched it back.

  “We need to talk about this summer.”

  “What about it?”

  “God, Abigail.” He sighed. “We’ve had this conversation like ten times already.”

  She shrugged, playing with one of her blond curls. She released it and it sprung back into place. Leaning forward on her knees, she looked him in the eye. “Tell me, Master. What have I done wrong now?” A smirk played on her lips as he narrowed his eyes.

  “I’m leavin
g to spend the summer in England, but I’ll be going home first. I leave next week, and I want you to come home with me. Just until I leave again. I mean, it’s not like you’re doing anything here this summer. You and Taylor will probably just lay by the pool for a few months.”

  The way he said it made Abigail squirm. She hated being talked down to. It’d gotten her in a lot of trouble when she was a teenager. Her mother called it a “fighting personality” and had never missed a chance to point out how unattractive it was.

  “You forgot the word ‘only’,” she spat. “If you’re going to be condescending then you might as well take it all the way. I’m sorry my Daddy can’t afford to send me off to Europe for some internship. Instead, I’ll be here. Working. And yes, working on my tan, because that is what people do in the summer.”

  He didn’t even flinch at her tone, he just sighed again. He tended to do that a lot. It was as if he was saying “Oh, it’s just Abigail being Abigail again. Why can’t she be more complacent?”

  “So,” he said slowly. “Are you coming?”

  She stared at him incredulously. Did he think the conversation was really going well enough that she’d say yes?

  Excuse. Excuse. She wracked her brain. There was no way she wanted to go to Indiana where Colin’s mother, who thought he hung the moon, would be judging her every move, trying to gauge if she was good enough. The answer to that was a resounding no. She wasn’t good enough. She was better, even if she was the only person in the world who thought that. She had too much self-worth to put herself through that. She was worth more than the Colins of this world. And she’d find a way to break this off without him going nuclear on Mack.

  An idea sparked in her mind. Taylor’s boyfriend Josh was renting a house in the Caribbean for a few weeks and had invited her to come. She’d said no, but now she couldn’t remember why.

  “No,” she said finally. “I can’t. I thought I told you. Taylor and I are going to the Virgin Islands.”