Made To Be Broken - The Boston Hawks Hockey Series

Chapter Three

Rory’s POV

I stumble through the door, the warmth from the heater above me dousing me. Straightening up quickly, I look around me warily, before a group of assholes bump into me one of them almost emptying their practically full pint over my dress.

Swearing under my breath, I try to step back, but a hand wraps around my wrist holding me in place as I look up into the glazed eyes of a kid who barely looks old enough to be in here.

‘Hey gorgeous’ he slurs, bringing his face closer to me, his lecherous gaze roaming over my body, stalling at my breasts. ‘You need a friend, I’m real friendly.’

‘No thank you’ I respond, trying to pull my arm away, but the i***t just tightens his grip.

‘What? You think you’re too good for me or something?’ the kid slurs, his drunken temper flaring as his letcherous gaze slides down my body, a hand reaching out and wrapping around my arm. ‘You almost spilt my drink b***h, you owe me.’

Looking up at him I smile sweetly, tilting my head slightly as though I’m contemplating his words.

‘You know, you’re right’ I muse, ‘I do owe you, here, let me repay you.’

Before the i***t can so much as absorb my words, my hand moves forward and I grab his junk in a vice like grip, making sure that my nails dig through the denim of his pants.

‘How much do I owe you?’ I purr, as tears fill his eyes, a weird high pitched squeak falling from his lips as he stiffens in place. ‘Is this enough? Or do I owe you more?’ I twist my wrist slightly, drawing another pain filled noise that I’m a little worried is going to get so high only dogs are going to be able to hear him.

His friends are oblivious to my stand off with their mate, cheering and laughing as I hold the asshole hostage by his b.ollocks.

Leaning slightly closer, I make sure the kid can hear me, ‘I think we’re even now aren’t we’ I ask smoothly, ‘so how about you let me go and maybe I’ll do the same for you.’

I straighten up, waiting for him to jerkily nod his head, his fingers lifting from my skin, before I release him, smiling as he bends forward, his hands cradled around his balls, his friends still unaware.

Stepping around him, I move through the crowd, silently amused, maybe Stanford was right, no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be able to truly remove my working class, public school upbringing from under my skin.

Pushing my way through the rowdy patrons, I head toward what I hope is the alcohol, stumbling out by the stools that surround the wooden bar that takes up most of one wall of the place.

Reaching the bar, I slide on to one of the empty stools, my back to the partygoers around me as I open my purse and signal to the bartender who heads toward me, an eyebrow raised.

‘What can I get you?’ he asks, his gaze roaming over my body and I can see what he is thinking, you don’t belong here.

Ignoring his judgemental appraisal, I hold out a twenty to him, ‘give me something that has so much alcohol in it, I forget my name by the end of the night’ I demand firmly.

The tall man, studies me for a second before nodding, pulling out a shot glass, and pouring a measure of tequila, and pushing it toward me.

I snatch it from the counter as it slides in front of me, throwing it back like I’m a seasoned drinker, my eyes burning as I cough.

‘Another’ I wheeze, placing the glass down again, which the bartender fills a second time before plucking the twenty from my fingers and heading toward the register that sits against the back wall.

This time I hold the glass in my hand, cradling it like a newborn baby as I stare at the rows of bottles behind the bar and my reflection that taunts me in the mirror that sits behind them.

My blonde hair is pulled up into an intricate updo, with tendrils curled around my face, and I’m dressed in the deep red, crushed velvet dress I thought was worth every cent not an hour ago, which clings to me like a second skin.

A laugh bubbles up my throat as I take myself in, a face of perfectly applied makeup, and a dress that was so ridiculously expensive that I had to empty my savings account to afford it. Clueless, I was absolutely clueless! What was I thinking? Did I really believe that I was going to get the happily ever after that everyone dreams of?

I shake my head at my own stupidity, taking a sip of the drink in my hand, barely acknowledging the barman as he places my change on the bar.

I winced as the taste hits my tongue but refusing to put it down again. I need this, I need to drown every memory of that douchebag from my mind, f.uck him, I hope he finds some socialite tonight and she gives him crabs.

I glance over my shoulder, taking in the people all around me, some laughing and talking with friends whilst other revellers grind to the music on the tiny space within the crowd of people, before taking in the few booths that line the walls.

Everyone is celebrating loudly as they wait for the stroke of midnight, the excitement palpable, doesn’t look like anyone else got dumped and made homeless tonight.

I shake my head slightly, who would have thought that I’d be spending new years eve in a dive bar, dressed like a socialite, so out of place it’s laughable, and drinking what can only be described as flavoured paraffin, not me!

When I woke up this morning, I expected to be starting the new year engaged to my boyfriend. I mean, it’s been three years since we met after all. I gave up my entire life in San Fransisco for him, left my home, all my friends and family and moved clear across the country to Boston because I firmly believed that we were forever.

When he said he wanted to take me out for a meal tonight, that he’d booked somewhere quiet, secluded, I firmly believed that he was going to propose. Why else would he take me too somewhere so expensive? Why make a big deal about how intimate it was?

I snort out a laugh as I shake my head, at my own naivety and toss back the rest of my drink, signalling the bartender again as I he heads back, topping up my glass for the third time.

Drink after drink passes my lips until I’m in a delightful haze, the douche barely a blip on my drunken radar as I slam my hand on the bar.

‘Another one of these fine drinks barkeep’ I call out to the man who has been serving me for the last hour.

I reach awkwardly for my purse, trying unsuccessfully to open it, but the man who is now my new best friend, his name is Brian . . or Barry? Maybe Donald . . , holds up a hand stopping me. ‘It’s on me this time love’ he rumbles, ‘the way you’re throwing them back, I think tonight isn’t the night you expected it to be, let me at least buy you one drink, make your New Years slightly less of a cluster f.uck.’

I grin widely, picking up the glass again and holding it out to him in a silent greeting of cheers.

‘Oh you have no idea my friend, but I can only go upwards from here’ I announce, my arm wobbling slightly as the liquid sloshes around in the glass. ‘To a much better year than this one, where I get a kick ass job, and where every man’s d.ick fall off and they are forcibly given a vasectomy without anesthesia.’

I throw back the drink, not even feeling the burn this time, turning the glass over and slamming it onto the counter like I’ve seen them do in the movies.

‘Ouch’ comes a deep rumbling voice beside me, ‘what did all mankind do to you to wish such pain on us?’

I shrug, licking my lips as I try to catch the bartender's eyes again, ‘man kind are the scum of the earth’ I retort, ‘only good for one thing! Infact,i I add, clicking my fingers in a eureka moment, 'that’s what I should do! Find a guy who can do dirty dirty things to me and then kick him to the curb in the morning, when his usefulness is over.’

A deep velvety chuckle washes over me, and I damn near shiver at the sound, ‘sounds like a plan to me sweetheart’ he growls, ‘nothing wrong with a night of pleasure with no strings attached . . ‘

I turn in my seat, blinking slowly about to reply, as an amused face swims into view, and Oh my! What a face! unkempt black hair falls across his forehead, grazing deep brown eyes that have flecks of green around the edges. His nose is slightly crooked but it doesn’t detract from his handsome features in the slightest. Dropping my gaze, I’m rewarded with full pink lips that are tilted up in amusement, seemingly unbothered that I’m openly ogling him.

‘F.uck, you’re gorgeous’ I mumble out loud, my mouth working before my brain can engage.

I wince, forcing my eyes up to the strangers to find if anything, his smile wider as he takes me in too.

‘I could say the same about you sweetheart’ he replies, winking at me in that arrogant way that men have, you know, the ones who know that they've got it going on. And as if, despite my better judgement, my panties don’t try to melt from my body with that one promise filled look.

Leaning closer, his soft lips graze my ear, warm breath tickling the shell seductively, ‘and if you really want a night of care free fun, I’m more than happy to oblige.’