Chapter 10 #2
“Hey,” I murmur, voice low, meant only for her. “You’re safe. He can’t touch you. Not while I’m here.”
She nods, but there’s something in her eyes that wasn’t there before. Guilt, maybe. Anxiety. Her lips part, then close again. I lead her toward the edge of the rink, moving slow, giving her a chance to find her words.
She glances up at me, then looks away just as quick. “I…I did something bad.”
My gut twists, but I keep my expression neutral. “What did you do?”
She chews her lip, eyes fixed on the snowy boards. “I snooped,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to. I just…I opened a bag. Thought it was skates. But it wasn’t. It was Jason’s stuff. And I saw a phone. There was a message—”
I touch her elbow gently, steering her toward a quiet spot near the benches where no one’s listening. “Go on.”
She hesitates, conflict written all over her face. “It feels wrong. To look. Even if it was an accident. My dad always said privacy is a line you don’t cross, no matter what you think you’ll find.”
I shake my head. “Sometimes lines need to be crossed, Mia. I was in the Army. You learn quick—sometimes you do things you hate, things you think are wrong, because doing nothing is worse. The world isn’t as black-and-white as people want it to be. Especially when you’re protecting someone.”
She looks at me, a little steadier now, and I give her a small, reassuring nod. “So what did you find?”
She takes a shaky breath. “A message. On Jason’s phone. From a woman. She said…she called him her husband. Said the money belonged to her company, and if he didn’t return it, she’d be sued.”
I let that settle for a beat, feeling the full weight of it. My jaw clenches. “You’re saying Jason is married.”
She nods. “And he’s stealing from her. Or he already did. I don’t know if Sarah—if anyone knows. What should I do, Marcus?”
I reach out, brushing a stray hair from her cheek, grounding her. “You did the right thing, Mia. You did what you had to do. Jason’s a dangerous man, and you just found the evidence that could finally stop him.”
She swallows, tears shining in her eyes. “But what if Sarah hates me for it?”
“She won’t,” I say quietly. “And if she does—she’ll forgive you. Or she never deserved you as a friend in the first place.”
Her breath comes out shaky, but she finally meets my gaze. “I’m scared.”
“I know. That’s why you’re not alone.”
I squeeze her hand, holding her steady. I want to take every ounce of fear and guilt out of her chest and carry it for her. But the only thing I can do is stand here, in the cold, and let her lean into me—just for a minute, just enough.
She exhales, and the tension in her shoulders finally eases a little. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” I promise. And I mean it.
I hold Mia close, grounding her, feeling her relax a little as she lets out a shaky breath. I want to stay in this moment, but something prickles at the back of my neck.
I glance up and spot them on the far side of the rink: Alex and Tyler, standing shoulder-to-shoulder near the benches, half in shadow. Their eyes are fixed on us. Or, more accurately, fixed on Mia.
Jealousy is a living thing between them, plain and black and ugly.
I can read it as easily as I’d read a briefing.
Alex’s jaw is tight, arms folded, face a mask of calm, but his eyes—those eyes could burn holes in me.
Tyler’s got that tight little smile, hands in his pockets, but he’s not even pretending to hide it.
He looks like he’s about to skate straight through me.
For a moment, I’m smug. She’s with me. Right now, she chose me. The soft curve of her back leans against my chest, and the heat in my gut is equal parts pride and pure, hungry need.
But then Mia shifts, noticing where I’m looking. She follows my gaze and stiffens. There’s something in her eyes—something searching, or maybe just guilty, or maybe…longing? Her cheeks color deeper.
I suddenly feel less sure of myself.
She can’t want all three of us. That’s not possible. That’s insane. People don’t… But the way she’s looking at them, at me, at Tyler’s unguarded hunger, at Alex’s steel—I can’t help but wonder if maybe she does.
Still, the thought lodges itself somewhere uncomfortable.
“Come on,” I say quietly. “Let’s go over.”
She nods, trusting me without question, and that trust hits harder than jealousy ever could. I guide her toward the boards, keeping my posture casual, my movements easy. No one needs to see what’s churning under my skin.
As we approach, Tyler’s eyes flick to Mia immediately, concern replacing jealousy in a heartbeat. Alexander’s gaze sweeps over her too, sharp and assessing, like he’s checking for damage.
“You okay?” Tyler asks her.
“I’m fine,” she says. “Marcus was just…helping me skate.”
Alexander’s eyes flick to me. A silent exchange passes between us. He knows something’s off. He always does.
I don’t explain. Not here.
“Hey,” I say, jerking my chin toward the benches. “I need to check something.”
Mia frowns slightly. “What—”
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her. “Stay with them.”
Reluctantly, she lets go of my hand.
I push off, skating smoothly toward the spot she gestured toward earlier. The gear bags are still piled near the boards, half-buried in scarves and gloves, looking harmless to anyone not paying attention.
I crouch and unzip Jason’s bag.
Clothes. Wallet. Cuff links.
No phone.
I dig deeper, pulse spiking. Push aside the shirt. Check the inner pockets. Nothing.
The burner is gone.
Slowly, I straighten.
I don’t need to look far to know who took it.
Jason stands on the ice not twenty feet away, pretending to chat with a groomsman, his posture relaxed, his smile easy. But his eyes are on me. Locked. Cold. Calculating.
He knows.
He knows we’re onto him.
And suddenly this isn’t just about sabotage or delaying a wedding. This is a man who has realized his cover is cracking—and men like that don’t go quietly.
I skate back toward my brothers, my jaw tight, every instinct screaming.
Jason isn’t just watching us anymore. He’s anticipating our moves.
And that makes him dangerous.