Page 87 of Back in the Game (Pride in the Game #1)

Jett. Jett needed to run.

He had promised— promised to keep Jett safe and protect him with his life, he just hadn’t expected to cash in that promise so soon.

His muddled thoughts told him that he could have let Jett shoot the bastard, but other thoughts interrupted that notion before it could take root. Jett was not his brother. He was not a person capable of killing someone, and coming out on the other side of that life-changing event unscathed.

Luca’s voice was whispering in his ear, blocking out the sounds of the rampaging monster behind him. He had a concussion. How ironic that this was his first one despite playing hockey for years. He hadn’t expected audible hallucinations, but he would take any help he could get—ghost or not.

“It can handle the weight of one person,” Taylor said, his voice gruff with tension. “But two heavy guys? Not likely.”

But they didn’t get it. That was the plan.

“Dad told us the lake has a current, and that’s why it takes so long to freeze in the winter,” said Luca. “You need to turn back, Harrison. You can’t die here.”

Why couldn’t he? If he died and dragged Mike with him, then Jett would live, and that was enough.

There was less snow on the lake because of the wind, and the ice picks on Harrison’s boots made it easy for him to keep ahead of Mike.

He hadn’t used his legs like this in a long time, and the only reason why he hadn’t been overtaken by pain was because of adrenaline.

Adrenaline was the only thing keeping him going.

“He’s springing a trap,” said Taylor. “Harrison, over here!”

Harrison could feel the blood frozen on his face and in his hair, soaking his jacket and shirt. Everything was so bright and hard to look at, but through the snow and blurriness, he spotted a figure on the lake before him.

Not a figure. Taylor wasn’t really there.

Luca wasn’t really there.

This was the concussion talking, nothing more.

Harrison knew that, but Taylor had been his best friend, and his body instinctively reacted to his order. He bolted for the figure and felt something shift under his feet in warning.

“Stop running!”

Mike had lost his mind. He was a rabid animal that needed to be put down, and Harrison was going to make sure he was the man to do it.

Ice cracked, rumbling through the lake like thunder. It was always thunder for Harrison—always a storm raging toward him, trying to drown and suffocate. The fear was so familiar that it gave him clarity.

Harrison came to a hard stop and spun to face Mike, clenching his fists, but keeping his arms by his sides. He tried his best to appear non-threatening as he watched Mike slow to a stop ten feet away from him .

The world was wobbly, but Harrison could make out the madness in those brown eyes. Mike was holding the axe in the air, his entire body heaving with exhaustion from the hunt. A smile crept onto his face. He thought he’d won.

“You half-dead fuck.” Mike’s gaze looked Harrison up and down, taking in his injured state. “Covered in blood and swaying on your feet. That must be one hell of a headache. But I did use a log, so it makes sense.”

Mike was bleeding too. His nose was broken, and it had sprayed blood all down the front of his body, soaking his face and winter gear.

Jett had fought back, and Harrison felt nothing but pride for the man he loved.

“I meant to kill you, but this is more fun, don’t you think?”

Harrison’s hands were shaking as he unzipped his jacket and shrugged it off. The less he had weighing him down, the better.

Mike was still so smug—so fucking confident. He grinned at Harrison, swinging the axe around threateningly, like this was all a game.

“I’ll kill you and then go back to Jetty. I’m not going to stop until you’re both dead. You ruined my life.”

Black spots danced in front of his eyes, but Harrison held himself steady. “You ruined your own life. You’re the only one responsible for your actions. And if you weren’t so fucking dumb, you’d realize that.”

His words were starting to slur. He didn’t have much time.

A silhouette hovered behind Mike—Luca. His brother was there, waiting for him. Harrison wasn’t afraid. There would be no pain, and he would see people he loved on the other side.

He was ready to die—and it would be so easy. All he had to do was fall .

“You were always nothing,” he said quietly into the bitter air between them. “You were always going to be nothing. A pathetic piece of shit. A self-hating coward who throws tantrums when he doesn’t get his way. When you die, no one’s going to mourn you. Hell, they might even be relieved.”

Mike stepped forward, the ice groaning with the shift of weight. “Shut the fuck up.”

“They’ll all hate you,” Harrison went on, voice soft but razor-sharp. “They’ll hear your name and either laugh or gag.”

“Keep running your mouth, faggot.” Mike’s hands clenched around the axe as he swung it back. “The more you talk, the worse it’s going to hurt.”

But Harrison only smirked as death rushed to meet him.

The sharp crack of splitting ice echoed like a gunshot. The world lurched beneath them—and then the surface gave way.

Harrison didn’t flinch. His eyes stayed locked on Mike’s as they fell, and he took a twisted sense of peace from the look of horror that overtook the other man’s face.

Then the water swallowed them both.

The shock was instant and brutal, and the water was cold like knives slicing through flesh. Reflex made Harrison’s hands shoot out. He didn’t even think—just grabbed wildly, catching the jagged edge of the ice before it could slip away.

He didn’t know why. He couldn’t explain it. Something deep and instinctual was screaming, not yet.

Not yet.

“If you’re not going to fight for yourself,” said Luca. “Then fight for Jett, because he’s waiting for you. He’s worth the effort, Harrison.”

Harrison’s body jolted as something yanked at his leg.

Mike’s arms locked around him—desperate, frantic.

He was still alive, still fighting, his limbs thrashing beneath the surface as he tried to claw his way back to air.

But his gear was too heavy, and it was dragging him down like an anchor, the cold seizing his muscles.

He wasn’t going to make it, and they both knew it.

This wasn’t survival.

This was instinct.

This was panic.

This was his death throes—the final moment between living and dying.

Mike’s grip was fading, his frantic kicks growing weaker by the second. The final, hopeless spasms of a dying man.

But Harrison didn’t fight back.

He didn’t claw or kick.

He simply was .

Mike would find nothing but terror in the cold and the dark. He’d die afraid and alone. His last moments would be soaked in panic while his lungs filled with water instead of air.

But for Harrison, this felt like home.

The pain in his limbs had dulled, replaced by a strange, all-consuming numbness that brought peace. The cold didn’t scare him—it welcomed him like an old friend. He had known this emptiness before. It was the same stillness that had wrapped around him the day Luca died.

His thoughts grew slower and fuzzier as the cold crept deeper into his bones, but he didn’t care.

There was no fear or struggle. Just the soft surrender to the quiet.

He was sitting on the road again, holding Luca’s lifeless body in his arms as the rain poured around them, and lightning split the sky.

“I’ve been trying to find you,” Harrison said, stroking Luca’s soft cheek. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

Warm, whisky coloured eyes opened, blinking at him slowly.

He looked so much like their mother.

“Go home, Harrison,” Luca told him. “I love you, but you need to go home.”

Harrison frowned. He couldn’t understand why Luca didn’t want him there. “Don’t you miss me?”

Luca smiled, and Harrison forgot how much he had missed the sight of it.

He suddenly found himself chasing his brother through the backyard, climbing up the treehouse ladder and laughing when Luca let out a shriek of excitement.

He was sitting on the floor in Luca’s bedroom with Taylor, the three of them trying to be quiet as they ate stolen treats from the cupboard.

He was sliding to a stop at the rink gate, grinning at Luca’s grumpy face as he shivered in the cold.

His brother always came to watch him practice, even though he hated the cold, and he hated how obnoxious his teammates were.

Taylor stopped beside him, smacking him on the back with his stick. His brown eyes were filled with mischief as he looked between him and Luca. “We tell him to stay home, and he still follows us. Don’t feel bad for the idiot.”

“ You’re the idiot, Taylor,” Luca snapped back, pointing an angry finger at him. “Until yesterday, you thought the Earth was flat. Can’t get any dumber than that.”

Luca and Taylor had been like this ever since Luca hit his teen years. Harrison found their bickering amusing, but he missed the peaceful times too.

He reached for the gate so he could get off the ice, but Luca snapped it closed, and Taylor yanked his hand back.

“No,” said Taylor. “You can’t leave yet. It’s not time.”

Not time for what? Practice was over, and he was hungry. It was time to go home and get something to eat—maybe watch a movie.

“You still have time on the clock,” said Luca, gesturing to the board showing way more time than he would ever need. “And he’s waiting for you.”

He?

Taylor huffed and pushed his shoulder, turning him to look at center ice, where a man stood watching them. He was wearing a blue jersey with a Sunburst on the front, holding his stick in his hand.

“ Him .” Taylor gave Harrison a friendly shake. “He’s the one who’s waiting for you.”

Jett Fraser, all golden light and warm smiles. He was lifting his arms toward him, like he was asking Harrison for a hug.

Harrison made it one stride before he stopped and turned to his brother and best friend. “Are you going to be okay until we come home?”

They smiled, and Luca laughed. “Jesus, Harrison. We’ll be fine, so please stop worrying about us. It’s not like we won’t see each other again.”

Taylor was standing close enough to hit him on the back of the knee with his stick, nearly buckling it. “I’ll take care of Luca until you’re back. You need to stop being so uptight, man.”

Harrison nodded, and the tension he was holding onto finally ebbed away. “Meet me at the gate later then?”

Taylor gave him a salute, and Luca waved.

“Later,” Luca promised. “See you then, Harrison.”

Harrison turned and propelled forward, blades gliding over the ice at a speed that felt like flying. Jett’s arms were wide open, and he was laughing as Harrison raced for him. And when Harrison crashed into him and twirled them around, he joined in on the laughter.

He was home .

“Jett—”

“Harrison!”

He was slammed back into his body with the force of a meteor strike. His muscles were convulsing, and his lungs were screaming at him for air he desperately needed. He was thrown onto his side, and then water was climbing up his throat, choking him.

Hands smacked his back, and Harrison had no choice but to give in and expel the fluid clogging his lungs. He choked and sputtered, but then he was breathing in air—beautiful fucking air.

The darkness in his vision slowly began to fade, but he couldn’t make sense of where he was. There was snow on the ground, and crackling ice underneath him, but that told him nothing.

“Breathe, Harrison, breathe .”

That was…Jett. Jett was hitting his back, trying to get the rest of the water out of his lungs. The sound of his sobs brought the first pain, like an arrow piercing his heart.

“Oh god, baby.”

Warm hands touched his skin, and Harrison hissed.

“Hold on, help is coming. Please, Harrison, don’t die. I love you, so don’t die. Don’t leave me.”

Die? He was dying?

Harrison tried to recall how and why he was lying in the snow. Was he on the lake? Everything felt so heavy, and he was too numb to understand what was happening, but he knew he was missing something important.

He was flipped onto his back, but he was so dizzy and sick that he had to close his eyes. “Mmm…ohh…”

I’m okay. He was okay.

“Don’t talk,” Jett ordered, and Harrison pried his eyes open, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. “Do not fucking talk. I’m getting you back to the house.”

Harrison was fading. He didn’t have the strength to keep his eyes open .

The last thing he heard was Jett begging him to stay awake, and then darkness swallowed him, sending him spiralling into nothingness.