11. Casper
We’re worn down to the bone after today’s evening practice. I don’t know if Bates and Serena are fighting and Coach Rafferty is taking his daughter’s anger out on us or what, but they need to work it out as soon as fucking possible. Although I know better than that.
Bates and Serena are goddamn soulmates, and even if they bicker, they work through their shit in a day. Coach Rafferty is just trying to get us ready for the long season ahead. I just want someone to blame other than myself for being so out of breath and exhausted from that workout.
We’re all getting together for craft night, and for the first time ever, we’re opening our little group for our two new friends, Ledger and Ransom. It’s a sacred club. But we’re taking a chance, and until we determine they’re officially in, they’re on a probationary period.
Any of us core three can choose to veto them for any reason.
We’ll have a huddle and then decide what to do from there.
But tonight will be a real test of our friendship compatibility because I’m going to reveal to them that I’m stalking a girl and we’re making cute cards for her.
This is either going to go extraordinarily well or be an absolute train wreck.
And we’re about to find out … after this pit stop at Moore’s Crafts, where I’ll hopefully get to see my gal Paula.
As luck would have it, she’s at the register, stickering a cart of clearance products like the boss she is. She hears us enter and turns, smiling and waving, in her default customer-service act. Recognition dawns on her, and her smile widens, real joy in her eyes.
“Hey, Paula!” I call out. “Looking beautiful as ever!”
She instantly warms, clutching her hands to her chest. “You boys look like trouble tonight.”
Oh, Paula, you have no idea.
“We certainly are,” Kol adds, a smirk on his lips.
Waving her hand through the air, she shoos his claim away in disbelief, and we carry on toward the cardstock aisle—the reason we’re here.
It only takes three minutes to grab what I need, more than I need, and I have time to debate on even more stuff. The other four guys watch me hem and haw about whether or not I should get this cool holographic paper pack.
Ledger, already bonding with Kol in his dislike for my indecisiveness, grabs the packet and ushers me toward the checkout. Happy with the choice, I don’t protest.
Paula is a beaming ray of sunshine when we reach her, happy to help check us out.
I swear she is the sweetest older lady, and I’m half tempted to ask if she’s working because she has to or working because she wants to.
If it’s the former, I might give her a big enough lump sum to retire her and a spending budget so she can live her life comfortably, doing whatever she desires.
It might have been a single favor that she did for me, helping me cover Mona’s craft haul, but it still meant the world. Mona might not realize that I’m her masked man yet, but she will. Anyone willing to help me secure a future with my girl is family to me.
“Ooh, this is fun,” she coos, picking up the holographic packet and giving me pride in my own fascination with it. “What are you guys making?”
Deciding to be incredibly honest because I doubt she’ll believe it, I tell her, “Oh, you know, making love letters for the girl I’m stalking.”
As expected, she doesn’t think I’m being truthful, and she bursts into a fit of giggles, a cough trailing the laughter. “You boys make my night.” She glances over to Ransom and Ledger. “And you have new crafters with you.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, ma’am.” Ransom sticks his hand out for hers, and she takes it, her cheeks reddening more and more by the second. “I’m Ransom.”
“Ransom?” She inhales, batting her lashes. “You are so handsome. Oh! That rhymed.”
Ransom and Ledger humor her flirty banter, and she tells a sweet, long-winded story about her husband, Ritchie, who passed away a few years ago.
The moment I hear he was a giant hockey fan, I'm positive we will be inviting Paula to a game or two this season.
Good seats, personal driver, the whole works.
I think I feel drawn to her because she reminds me so much of my grandma, Carol. The line of C names in my family has got to be some kind of world record because sooner or later, we’re going to run out of new ones.
After slipping Paula a hefty tip for her excellent customer service, we make our way over to my place, the evening city traffic making our trip longer than expected. I beat the rest of the guys and park my car in the private parking garage before meeting them at the front of the condominium.
Bates and Kol have been here many, many times, especially since I’ve had this unit for, like, five years. It’s nice, and it’s served its purpose of giving me a comfortable home. But I’m itching for something new, something with more roots in the ground. Something I can share with Mona.
I give Ledger and Ransom the walk-through of the lobby, nodding to security as we stroll across the marble floor toward the elevator. I fill them in on some funny resident drama as we ride up to the eighth floor.
They’re quickly impressed with the place, and I mention that I’m looking to buy a house near Bates, so they’re welcome to snoop around further if they’re really interested.
Three bedrooms. Two bathrooms. A small in-home theater that I barely get time for. Huge walk-in closets. Massive kitchen. That’s only listing some of the amenities inside of the unit, not everything the condominium offers. But they can hear that whole spiel another day.
In the meantime, we have to officially induct them into the Sinners Craft Club, where unsuspecting hockey players become stalkers to the girls who capture their hearts. It’s romantic.
Once we’re all inside, we order pizza and devour every slice.
Then I invite them to my playroom full of secrets.
Just kidding—well, about the playroom part.
It’s definitely where my darker side comes out to play, but instead of whips and chains, it’s paper, ribbon, and glue.
And a few monitors displaying constant surveillance of Mona.
“Welcome, boys,” I announce, throwing the door open dramatically, “to your first craft night.”
Leading the way inside, I let Ransom and Ledger take it all in. The large table, fit for meetings of kings, has organized art supplies all over it. My mask is kept in a lit glass case on a pedestal against the back wall—because I have a flair for the dramatic. And it happens to look sick as hell.
“When you said we’d be making cards, I didn’t think I needed to come mentally prepared. But I was mistaken,” Ransom mutters, his tone unreadable. “Cas, you make these for your girlfriend, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I state proudly.
Ledger plucks a finished card from the table, one I’ve been saving for a very specific date I have planned.
Opening it up, he reads it out loud. “My Little Prey …” His gaze flicks up through his long, dark lashes, a twinkle sparkling for a split second before he glances down and continues, “Sink into your desires, the ones you keep close. Into the darkness, anything goes. You’ll be hunted, lured, and chased.
Brave the unknown. I promise you’re safe.
Time’s running out. We’re getting near. Run and scream. No one will hear.”
Silence falls upon the room, and my skin starts to crawl.
Inviting these two in will either pan out perfectly or start the biggest scandal in the hockey community in a long time.
Three Sinners players conspired and led a stalking sex cult. Great. I can see the headline and article now. Attempted indoctrination of new teammates.
A laugh tears through the room, coming straight from Ransom. “Cas, you’re … fucking insane.”
“Watch it,” Bates warns him, and Ledger holds up his hand, drawing our attention.
The flat, emotionless expression suddenly shifts, like blood is finally circulating through his face, as if he were coming to life. Then a subtle smirk tips the corner of his lips. “How can we help?”
“I meant, you’re fucking insane”—Ransom walks around the table and throws his arm around my shoulders, a shit-eating grin on his face—“just like us.”