Page 19

Gage yells at me. “Don’t do it, Marino. It’s not worth it.”
I glare at him before shoving the dickhead into the boards. He hits the plexiglass with an oomph before turning around and dropping his stick.
“I’m surprised your coach let you off the bench.”
I throw my stick and gloves down on the ice, preparing for a fight. “He didn’t have a fucking choice. I was coming for you one way or another.”
“Let’s do this.”
We square our shoulders and skate around in a circle. He’s the first to move, but I dodge his punch and grab a fistful of his jersey.
My fist sails through the air a second before connecting with his jaw.
Whistles are blown, and the referees break us up.
I don’t wait for the penalty to be announced. I skate back to the penalty box as the crowd boos me.
If they think that’s going to throw me off my game, they are sorely mistaken.
I plop down on the bench and take a swig of water. I might as well get comfortable because the game has just started and I’m already on my second penalty.
Fighting did nothing to quell the anger busting inside.
Looking across the ice, I see Coach Bobby yell something at the referee before gesturing to me. It’s clear he is pissed, but whether it’s at me or not is undetermined.
One thing is certain, if Alexandra doesn’t call me back tonight, my first stop after we land in Savannah will be at her front door.
Chapter Five
ALEXANDRA
The backof my head throbs. I try to reach up and touch the spot, but my hands are chained to my feet in front of me.
Memories flood into my mind of loading my moving boxes from my apartment to my car and being confronted by the men.
I open my eyes and am temporarily blinded by the bright light. The throbbing in the back of my skull intensifies tenfold. Snapping my eyes closed, I wait a few moments before cracking my left eye open.
I regained consciousness in a work van. I’m chained to the wall railing and shoved into the corner.
Blankets, tarps, and old carpet litter the floor of the van. As well as old paint brushes and several used paint trays.
Glancing around, I search for any way to escape.
There aren’t any.
The chains are wrapped around the railing and padlocked. I assume the back doors are locked as well. The only advantage I have is that the wall separating me from the two men is solid and they can’t see me.
I never took Arturo up on taking a lock-picking class.
Or shooting lessons.
I’m a sitting duck here and can only hope I’ll get a chance at running away when we get to our destination.
I do the only thing I can. I listen to their conversation for any clues that will help me find out why they wanted me.
The two men, oblivious to my awareness, speak as if they are alone.
“I can’t believe that asshole ditched us like that.”