38. Stone
STONE
I told her I loved her, and then I fucking bailed. After hate sex , no less. But she said it back. And it wasn’t really hate sex in the end, was it? Just…angry sex.
Because she loves me too.
I turn over her words the whole bus ride to Crown Point. While Shadow Valley has played here before, I haven’t. There’s a strong rivalry between the two schools, which are only a few hours apart. The tension on the bus seems to ramp up the closer we get.
Music—currently “Kryptonite” by Three Doors Down, a fucking masterpiece and somewhat ironic given Wren’s status as my kryptonite—blasts in my ears. Music is how I’ve always mentally slipped into the zone for hockey, but now…
Well, all thoughts point to Wren Davis.
I pick at a loose thread on the seat next to me. Over the music, the guys’ booming conversation filters in. They’re discussing plays, girls, the latest NHL games.
Funny how I’ve been here for only a few short months, and these guys are more like family than my old team ever was.
And with a ride to the New York Guardians sitting in my back pocket, I can’t help but feel like this is a time to savor.
Evan drops into the seat beside me and plucks out my earbud. “Hey.”
“What’s up?”
“You’re rich enough to afford your own place.”
I eye him. “Is that so?”
“With the trust fund and hockey contract and all.”
I snort.
“What I’m saying is, having screaming sex with my sister at all hours of the day—”
“That was a one-off.” I wave him away.
“Well, maybe you should consider getting a space for yourselves. Just the two of you.” His face is red, and he rubs the back of his neck. “The guys and I took a little vote—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“We’re not kicking you out immediately. Just, you know, when this shit with Wren’s dad gets resolved and things settle down a bit.”
I consider that. Wren and me in a space of our own, like a one-bedroom apartment that we can make a home.
It’s a good idea. And it dawns on me that she’s never really had a place that was truly hers.
The hockey house is a shared space—even the bedroom, we go back and forth over who puts shit where—and before that, Evan’s house.
She didn’t sleep when she was at home with her dad. Didn’t eat either. That couldn’t have been considered a home.
So the idea of giving her that, of letting her decorate a whole apartment and doing anything to make her smile—and fucking her on every surface, in every room—lifts a little weight off my shoulders.
I want that. And I wouldn’t have thought of it withoutEvan.
I slap his shoulder. “You’re totally right.”
He grins. “Yeah. Okay, good.”
When he returns to his seat, I slip my earbuds back in and restart the music.
This time, “All Apologies” by Nirvana. I close my eyes and try to recenter myself on the upcoming game.
We reviewed tapes of CPU earlier this week, and I know what to watch for.
I know that Steele O’Brien is an asshole of a D-man, and Greyson Devereux can skate circles around half the guys on our team.
And their goalie, Miles Whiteshaw, is quick.
But there are ways to beat them and cracks in their defense, and I plan on exploiting that to the best of my abilities.
The bus rumbles to a stop. We all take a few minutes to straighten our nice outfits, fix our ties, and then we’re off, grabbing our bags from under the bus and heading into the arena.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I glance around. There’s not much here—a half-empty parking lot with a backdrop of tree-covered mountains. Not much else besides our managers unloading from the bus.
Taylor claps me on the back. “You good?”
“Peachy,” I reply.
I shake it off and follow him inside. Coach gives us the rundown, then basically says we’re on our own for the next hour. I pull out my phone and call Wren.
“Hello?” Her voice is breathy and hesitant.
“Are you on your way?”
“With Ally,” she replies.
“Okay, good.” I swallow. “Yeah. I just wanted to make sure.”
“Are you regretting what you said?”
I scowl. “Not in the slightest. Are…are you?”
“No.” She lets out a laugh. “And now Ally is looking at me like I’ve stabbed her in the back.”
“Well, I’ll let you explain to her that you’re hopelessly in love with me.” Holy shit, I’m teasing her about this. Love always felt like one of those untouchable subjects. And here I am, poking fun at Wren.
But then again, when don’t Wren and I poke fun at each other?
“You said it first,” she mumbles.
“Oh my God,” Ally yells in the background. “You said it?”
I laugh. “Bye, baby. Text me when you’re here.”
Evan and Grant sit across from me, and they trade a look.
Then Grant says, “Okay, so…you made up?”
I smirk. “Yeah.”
“Great,” Evan mutters. “More sex.”
“The reprieve was kind of nice,” Grant agrees.
I pick up a pad and chuck it at them. “Shut up, you assholes.”
My phone goes off. I glance at it, and my blood runs cold. I try to hide my expression, running my hand over my mouth. When I glance up, Evan and Grant have switched their attention to Archer, who’s doing some funky stretching in the corner.
I stand quickly and step past them. They don’t question where I’m going, although I make a vague motion at my phone anyway.
There are other Knights in the hallway, kicking a soccer ball around. They call to me, but I shake my head and lift my phone again.
Sweat pricks at the back of my neck.
I shove out the heavy metal doors and exit onto the sidewalk, taking a deep breath. Then I scan the text on my phone again.
Step-monster
Your dad is in the hospital. Please call me.
My chest is tight. I brace my hand on the wall as the ground tilts. It must be serious—Martha never sends a text without an exclamation point. And there’s no trying to ease the blow.
Simple, straight to the point.
Stupid .
I grip my phone tighter. Do I just leave? I’m hours away—
“Hello, Stone.”
I straighten and spin around.
A man stands in front of me. He’s got a black coat on over jeans and a black knit cap over dark, kind of longish hair. He’s about my height. Thick, although it’s hard to tell if it’s muscle or fat. He’s vaguely familiar. Something about the shape of his face…
He smiles. “I need you to come with me.”
I start. “No—my dad—”
“Your father is fine.” He holds up a phone. “Easy to clone a number nowadays. Technology at its finest. My name is Jessie Davis. And I know… I didn’t expect to be meeting my pumpkin’s first love this way either.”
His gaze flicks over my shoulder, and he nods slightly.
My reaction time is pretty good. But even I’m not quick enough to dodge the blow that comes from the man behind me.
Pain bursts across my head, and my vision goes dark.
The last thing I remember is hands grabbing me before I hit the pavement.