Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
JAVEY
The only place I've ever had confidence was on the ice. From the moment I laced up my first pair of skates and picked up a hockey stick, it was the one thing I wanted to do. One of the few things I was good at. I left it all out on the rink every time. Held nothing back.
Off the ice, I was the complete opposite. Awkward, introverted. When the press gathered around, I left the talking to the other guys.
I didn't mind any of that, it was what it was. Until now.
Now, I wanted Sinclair to see me. Really see me. To understand me and not run away.
I half-expected someone like Coast or Phoenix to follow us out and ask why the hell she was leaving with me.
I asked myself the same question, but shoved it away faster than my stick on the puck.
Her hand was warm in mine. My hand, not one of the other guys. No one followed us out. No one confronted me or questioned her choice. She didn't change her mind once she stepped out into the cold night air.
If anything, she seemed more certain. Curious about me, wanting to know more.
I wanted to know more about her. I needed to know everything. Everything I didn't already know.
I'd been watching her for quite some time without her realising.
Without her seeing me. Almost as good as I was at hockey, I was good at hiding.
Either in plain sight, or in the shadows.
I wore black to blend into the night. My presence concealed while I stood outside her house, seeing her moving around inside.
Watching through cracks in the curtains while she stripped off naked.
While I wrapped my hand around my cock, and…
Now, it was just us. We walked for a block or two, enjoying the relative quiet. Traffic hummed past, but the sound of throbbing music grew more and more faint.
"You were going to tell me about your family," she said.
I glanced over to her. Why was a woman as gorgeous as Sinclair Rooney giving me the time of day, much less walking with me through the streets of Dusk Bay late at night?
"I was?" I asked.
"You don't have to." She glanced back at me, her chin tilted up. I liked that she was tall, but still had to look up to look at me.
She said so much with her blue-eyed gaze. She truly wanted to understand me. Not Javier Montenez, the winger and hockey demigod—I didn't consider myself quite at god status—but as Javey. Fuck, I wanted to hear my name on her lips. Needed to hear her scream it.
"There's not much to tell apart from what you already figured out," I said.
"I'm five years younger than my next oldest sibling.
By the time I was born, there was no toy they hadn't broken, no wall they hadn't scribbled on, few bones they hadn't broken.
" I shrugged. I was long past feeling sorry for myself.
"So you had to work extra hard to get noticed?" she asked.
"Mostly I didn't bother," I said. "If I was sitting in the corner reading a book, I wasn't causing any trouble." I was okay with them leaving me alone. I liked my own company.
"That sounds lonely," she said.
"I guess so. Like you said, when I wanted to do something I shouldn't, I didn't get noticed." I smiled.
"What did past Javey get up to?" Her tone was teasing, but the sound of my name on her lips was music. Hah-vey.
"Mostly making friends with people my parents wouldn't have approved of," I said. "A few who worked for the Brantley family or people like them. When you've learned to blend into the background, it gets you all sorts of places."
The skin on the back of my neck prickled. Were we being watched?
I didn't look back. I kept my focus on her. Outwardly at least.
Inwardly, I was on alert for anything. Even before the attack on the arena, I was always watching out, always ready. Since the attack, the sensation of being followed, or something coming had increased tenfold.
The fact I was there that night made me a target. I was starting to regret asking Sinclair to leave with me. If anything happened to her because of her proximity to me…
"I'm sure it does," she was saying. "No one suspects the shy hockey god."
"Exactly," I agreed.
"So how does a guy who grew up not being noticed end up playing professional hockey?" she asked.
"We used to ice skate at the local rink on the weekends, and I was good at it," I said simply. "I was asked to join the team. I almost said no, but then I figured it would give me more time on the ice. Turns out, I was good at hockey too."
I wasn't bragging, just stating a fact. Hockey came as naturally to me as breathing. Chasing the puck, blocking shots, making goals, checking opponents into the boards, it was in my blood.
"My brothers used to say it's because I spent so much time by myself, playing with my stick." Assholes. They were more interested in kicking a ball around. I left that to them, I couldn't kick for nuts. Never bothered to try very hard. If I did, I'd be compared to them the entire time. Fuck that.
Sinclair laughed. "And now you're laughing all the way to the net. And the bank too, I guess." She worked for the Demons, she'd have a fair idea how much I earned.
"I'm doing okay," I said. Between the money I made playing hockey, and the bonuses from doing the occasional job for Caleb or Reuben Brantley, I could comfortably retire.
What would I do if I did? I didn't know what I'd do with myself without a hockey stick in my hand.
Her smile froze and her hand tensed in mine. A moment later, she forced herself to relax and spoke as though nothing was going on.
"Where are they?" She didn't look around either. She kept her eyes on me or the footpath in front of us. She grew up in Dusk Bay, she was well aware of its shady side. Her instincts were almost as finely honed as mine.
I wanted to tell her I didn't know what she was referring to. To reassure her there was no one around but us.
We'd both know I was lying. I didn't want our relationship to start with lies. Not even when the truth could kill us both.
"I'm not sure." I spoke in the same tone I'd used for the last handful of minutes. Casual, friendly, if slightly reserved. "My place isn't far from here."
"Good," she said. "Because I don't think I can keep my hands off you for much longer." Her voice was husky, hotter than hell. She might be the fucking end of me.
I was one hundred percent here for it.
My heart raced, my cock hardened. If it wasn't for whoever was watching us, I'd find a place to pin her to the wall and get my hand under her jeans. I might have anyway, but it was the middle of winter. I wanted to get her off, not freeze her clit off.
"Me either." If this was a dream, I didn't want to wake up until I'd come inside her.
A small part of me, in the very back of my mind, expected one of my teammates to come running up and try to whisk her away. I'd punch them in the face and keep walking.
As far as I was concerned, she was mine. I planned to find a way to make this permanent. The moment I saw her, I'd decided that. One way, or another, she belonged to me.
I stopped in the shadow of a building, tangled my fingers in her hair and dragged my lips over hers. Just once, just lightly, but long enough to let sparks fly between us like crackles of electricity.
Heat surged through me. My cock was hard.
She groaned against my mouth, her tongue sliding over my lips, tasting me.
Before I changed my mind about fucking her out in the cold, I tore myself away from her and tugged her to keep walking. Our steps were faster now.
The sensation that we were being watched increased as we approached my apartment building. My body tingled, caught between aching for her, and extreme caution.
"In the black car on the corner," she said like she was talking about the weather.
"I see them," I said.
Two of them, not making any attempt to hide their presence. To the casual passerby, they'd appear as nothing more than a couple of people hanging out, maybe making out.
To me, to Sinclair as well, there was nothing casual about their presence. I was starting to wish I had a gun in my pocket. Or a hockey stick in my hand. Hell, a nice hard puck right between the eyes would do.
"I think they've seen us," she said.
The car doors started to open.
"Keep walking," I said, half my attention on the car, the rest on her and the distance to the front door of my building. "We're just people walking down the street."
"Right." A hint of nerves snuck into her tone.
They immediately put me on edge. I had to keep her safe, whatever the cost to me.
"Montanez." Sawyer Mancini stepped out of the car, followed by a man I didn't recognise. One of his minions or associates, I presumed.
"Mancini," I replied, neither friendly nor unfriendly. Merely acknowledging his greeting. I slowed my steps, but didn't stop.
"I think you know why we're here."
To cock block? His timing couldn't have been worse. Or mine couldn't. If I hadn't approached her in Hazards in the first place…
Sawyer's gaze slid up and down Sinclair appraisingly. Appreciatively.
Fucker. I wanted to knock his teeth out for looking at her that way.
I came to a stop now, pulling Sinclair behind me. "Enjoying the fresh air?"
Sawyer chuckled. "Such a fucking comedian. You should give up hockey and take up stand-up. You'd kill your audience every night." His eyes narrowed, his words deliberately chosen.
"I'll leave the killing to you," I said. I made to step away when he raised a hand to stop me.
"I buy that you leave the killing to other people," he said slowly. "I want to talk about who you leave it to."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said.
"My mother's attack on Dusk Bay Arena." Apparently he was done skirting around the subject. "Her death and that of Jamison Fiorelli. You were there." He wasn't asking.
"I remember being held at gunpoint by Geneva's people," I said. I wasn't beating around the bush either.
"You can confirm who killed her." Also not a question.
"I can confirm it wasn't me," I said. "Everything else happened so quickly. One minute she was about to shoot an unarmed woman, the next minute she was dead." Good riddance as far as I was concerned.
"Shot by Coast Riggs," Sawyer said. "So was Jamison."
"If you're so sure, why are you asking me?" I asked.
"You're not denying it." Sawyer's eyes narrowed. "But I'm not asking you. I know exactly what happened. I'm here to make you an offer." He tilted his head so his gaze skirted around me, to Sinclair.
If it wasn't for her hand in mine, I might have rammed his teeth all the way down his throat. Choking on them would be worse than me just knocking them out.
"What offer?" I didn't try to keep the growl out of my voice.
He straightened up. "Information. That's all. You won't have to kill anyone for me." He laughed like he said something hilarious.
"What information?" It was Sinclair who asked. "We've already covered for your family. We made the attack out to be much less than it was. Otherwise you'd have a swarm of police at your door."
Which they probably deserved.
"We appreciate that," Sawyer said smoothly. "But there's always more that can be done. That's where my old friend Javey comes into this." He looked back at me. "You owe me a couple of favours anyway. I'll be claiming those."
I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but Sinclair looked at me sharply. If she was done with me after this, Sawyer might be losing a testicle or two.
I exhaled, my breath making mist in the cold air.
"What do you want?"