31. My Problem
31
MY PROBLEM
AIDAN
A lex is expected to make a full recovery. But it doesn’t change the fact the Russians fucked him up. Multiple broken ribs, a swollen eye, and a few broken fingers are the worst of it. The rest of him is just bruised up real good.
He got lucky.
Real lucky.
He’s staying with us at the loft until he recovers and it is super important he lies low. The Russians don’t easily forgive and they’re not ones to let traitors live. If we didn’t have the Pakhan’s own daughter to trade, Alex would never have survived.
Aurora Kostalova.
Rory.
The little lost princess hasn’t shown up to the rink all week for practice. Not that I’m looking... but the terrifying Russian lady she trains with was quite loud yesterday when Rory missed practice yet again. Her private session is right before the Breakers’ afternoon practice. Several times a week…
I can’t complain, Rory not showing up means extra ice for the Breakers. And the more ice time, the better.
Which is why I’m at the rink again at the ass crack of dawn. I haven’t been sleeping well and getting a little extra puck time is better than staring up at my ceiling for another couple of hours.
As soon as I enter the rink, I realize someone’s already beaten me to it. The main lights are off, and shadows cover half of the arena. But loud music echoes through the large space: angry rock guitar sounds and heavy drums. I recognize the band, Collateral Damage.
I expect to see one of my teammates, perhaps having had the same idea as me, but instead, a single skater tears up the ice, drawing my interest. This type of music isn’t the kind you’d normally hear the figure skaters prancing around to.
I move closer, so I’m lingering halfway out of the tunnel, still mostly out of sight. I’ve yet to see her face, but I don’t need to because I already know…
It’s her .
Rory’s movements are sharp and she’s skating with a fierce determination, matching the aggressive beat of the music. Even as I descend the steps to the arena, she doesn’t notice. Too lost in the music and her routine or whatever it is she’s working on.
Her jumps are explosive, defying gravity as she rotates at breakneck speed high above the ice. I watch transfixed as she launches into a series of spins, changing levels and increasing speed so fast I don’t know how they don’t make her sick. Especially given the little migraine condition she has.
She’s dressed more casually today, but still hot as sin. All in black. Tight high waisted leggings cling to her hips and a black sports bra that criss-crosses across her spine, revealing most of her back and a sliver of her toned stomach.
I think back to how sick she got the other night… how can she do what she does on the ice with that kind of ailment?
The Rory on the ice today shows no sign of imbalance, gliding smoothly out of a death spin with a flawless transition. The routine she’s working through is nothing like the fluffy little ballet crap her coach usually has her on.
I scan the arena seats for any sign of a guard, but other than the two of us, the arena is empty. Something tells me the little princess finally had enough of missing practice and snuck out.
Smiling to myself, I duck into the nearest locker room before she spots me, fully aware I’m about to ruin her day.
I lace up my skates in less than a minute, forgoing the pads, opting for my gloves, stick, and my old beat up baseball hat.
Rory’s head whips around at the sound of the heavy rink door slamming shut behind me. The sound echoes around the empty arena. She’s about halfway up the ice from me. “Hey!” she shouts, annoyance with a hint of apprehension in her voice. Maybe ditching your body guards wasn’t the best idea today…
I skate forward, bending my knees to sink deep into the ice. Head down, cap pulled low over my face, pretending I don’t hear her. I tug on my gloves and drop a puck to the ice. Stick handling it expertly down the back end as I take a lap.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her check her watch. I’m closer now, lazily pushing the puck down the ice, warming up.
“Hello?” she calls again when I don’t acknowledge her. “I have it for twenty more minutes you need to—” her voice cuts out and the corner of my lip curves up, knowing she’s recognized who it is she’s trapped on the ice with. I drop the pretense and swerve in her direction, gliding into a neat t-stop only a few feet away from her.
Her face betrays her fear. She looks so tiny standing there in front of me in her tight little skating clothes. So breakable. She glances nervously around while keeping me in her sights.
I lean casually on my stick, “What is it I need to do, Angel?” Tilting my head to the side as I check her out. She’s even hotter up close.
Rory is as white as the ice beneath her feet. But to her credit, she holds her ground. Clearing her throat, she forces her gaze to mine as she says carefully—sternly, “You need to leave.”
I slowly circle her. “Do I?”
She swallows hard, her eyes darting to the nearest exit. She spins on her blades, keeping me in sight. Not letting me get behind her.
“And who’s going to make me?” I lift an eyebrow, checking her up and down, “You?”
Her cheeks burn pink.
“Cause it looks like you’re all alone out here…” I marvel at the empty rink, shaking my head and clicking my tongue before gliding to a stop with a little spray of ice. I’ve positioned myself right between her and the closest exit, edging closer, turning my hat from front to back. I swear I can hear her heart pounding from here.
“I’ll scream—” she warns. As if that’s supposed to phase me…
“Go ahead.” My grin is slow and dangerous, focused solely on her. “There’s no one here.”
She stares at me for half a second before she takes off, racing for the gate on the opposite end of the rink. The move catches me by surprise so she gets a couple strides head start.
I’m quick to give chase. Dropping my stick on the ice with a clatter. Catching up to her easily. Just as I come within reaching distance—Rory cuts on an angle. Dodging my arm and taking off in the opposite direction before I can stop.
She’s nearly at the gate by the time I catch her again, but I’m too close. If she stops to open it, I’ll have her. Forced into a split second decision, she flies by the gate, shooting me a frustrated look.
I’m hot on her tail. The unexpected challenge and chase awakening something primal. Every nerve in my body seems to snap to attention, ignited by a single, undeniable spark. I’m fast, but she’s nimble. Each time I get too close, she twists or twirls right out of my reach.When once again she evades me by a hair, I release a low growl, frustration settling in.
Falling back, I study the little Russian skater. Reading her body, putting my defensive skills to work. The next time she pivots, I’m ready for it. She doesn’t have enough time to react before she skates right into me. She lets out a little shriek of terror when I wrap an arm around her middle and scoop her right off the ice. It’s unexpected, and she freezes long enough for me to pin her body up against the boards. Careful to keep my knee tight across her legs, not wanting to catch a skate blade to the shin.The slice down my forearm is a reminder of the little lion’s bite.
She wriggles against me, trying desperately to escape. I lean on her a little harder, using my weight to keep her in place. Fuck, chasing her turned me on. Both exciting and pissing me the fuck off.
“What are you doing here?” I demand. She shouldn’t be here. Alone and unprotected.
She scoffs, “ What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”
“You’re lucky it’s me and not Koen, or worse, Jimmy Reilly...”
My cousin still wants Rory dead. Probably more so than he did before, anxious she’ll rat him out to Adrik for what he did to his desk.
Her blue eyes flash in recognition, but she shrugs it away. “Do your brother and your cousin frequent the ice rink at dawn?” she asks dryly.
“No,” I admit.
Rory lifts her chin, proud of herself for proving her point. “Then I don’t see the problem.” She pushes at my chest. For such a little thing, she’s stronger than she looks, moving me a couple of inches. I smile at her just before I shove her back against the boards with one hand, reminding her she might be tough, but she’s no match for me.
Her breath catches from the pressure. “Fucking hell, Aidan, what is your problem?” she fumes. I delight in the anger I’ve stirred up in her eyes.
“My problem?” I turn it back on her, “What’s your problem?” I’m both irritated and turned on by her bratty attitude.
“My problem is you!”
I push her up against the boards again, leaning in close so I can feel her warm breath against my face. “Exactly,” it comes out as a growl. “Your problem is me . And it’s going to keep being me . So I suggest you stay behind your little guards, safe and sound in your pretty castle if you don’t want to end up as collateral damage, Kostalova .” I practically purr her name before darkening my tone, “Stay out of my way, little lion.”
I expect my words to scare her, but they do the exact opposite. Her little hands ball into fists while a storm rages to life in her eyes.
“It’s old news, Aidan. I don’t care about your sociopath brother or your little cousin with anger issues or you . You gave me back, remember? In a deal to save your little traitor friend.” Her words are bitter, but she can’t hide the emotion in her eyes when she mentions Alex. “I’m no longer your problem. Now Let. Me. Go.”
I stare at her as she holds my eyes, tilting her chin up with an air of defiance.
My hands release her just before the crashing sound of a door slamming draws our attention. Both our heads whip back toward the main gate.
“O’Rourke.” My name rolls off the tongue of one of the last people I want to see. I roll my eyes into the back of my head and look toward the roof. “Rory,” Colt nods impassively at the tiny skater next to me.
That catches my attention. How the fuck does he know Rory? Drawing myself up, I turn to face him, stepping in front of Rory as I do.
“King,” I offer a cold greeting, crossing my arms and sizing up the new Breakers’ center, warning in my eyes.
“Everything okay?” He looks past me to where Rory stands. No longer pinned against the boards, but still leaning against them. Uncharacteristically quiet for once.
I open my mouth, but it’s Rory who responds. Her voice surprisingly level given the little exchange, Colt just interrupted.
“Yup. In fact, I was just heading out.” She knocks into my shoulder as she brushes by me, gliding to the door, and exiting the rink behind Colt without sparing me another glance.
He watches her pass him and my jaw tightens along with my fists.
“Remember what I said,” I call after her, ignoring Colt’s hard stare. The brief pause in her step is evidence enough she hears me, though she doesn’t turn around.
What Colt makes of it, I don’t care because I’m already skating across the ice, picking up the stick and puck I’d abandoned earlier, and in a couple of strides, I sink it into the net from the point.
This is far from over.