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Chapter forty-four

Wren

Coach Smith pushes, shoves, and bullies me back to our locker rooms. He shoves me at the bench. Most of the team is gone. They disappeared when the sirens went off, but I can’t leave without my pack.

“Wait for a moment. I need to explain.”

I bounce up, furious, and shove him so hard he flies into the locker. “Fuck you! I need to find her!”

Coach rushes towards me, his eyes huge and watery. “Listen, just listen-”

I shove past him and jog across the room.

“I’ll tell you where they went! Where he’s going. You just need to listen!”

I freeze. Fury and desperation warring with each other. “You know where he’s going?”

“Yes! Just hear me out. Please, you need to hear me out.”

“You have two minutes,” I hiss at the coward I used to call coach.

We stay silent, waiting until almost everyone is gone, it takes about thirty seconds. I don’t have the time, but I need to know what he has to say. If he can tell me where that asshole is taking her, it will be worth it.

Coach sits down and looks at me. His eyes are shadowed, and there’s a whole lot of regret there. He looks like a man at the end of his tether.

“All I had was this team.”

“You have her,” I snap, furious all over again.

“No, he has her. ”

I fist his shirt and drag him so we’re nose-to-nose. “She is mine. She does not belong to him.”

He shakes his head and stands up. “Typhor called again. Because I didn’t bench Raider, I’m to suffer the consequences. I’m fired. Tonight is my last game. He wanted you gone, and I agree, you deserve better, so I said yes to the trade. It’s for your own good.”

I squeeze his shirt tighter, drawing him even closer. I want to rip him apart. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? You think I will ever leave that beta? Nothing on Earth is going to keep me from her or that pack.”

Patrick Smith, former coach of the Greene Demons, starts to weep. I wrinkle my nose and thrust him away from me. He falls over the bench and hits his head but slowly sits back up.

“Where is Ryann?” I snarl. I’m mentally counting the seconds and starting to panic.

“He knew everything about everything. I couldn’t get away from him. He blackmailed me.”

I freeze, absolutely appalled. “Coach, tell me you didn’t? You told Typhor everything? About Raider, the pack, me?”

“Yes, I told him whatever he wanted to know,” Coach whispers. “I lost everything, too. She’s stronger than I am. Ryann can survive!”

I see red, but he’s so pathetic. I can’t even find it in me to hit him.

“So, what do you have to lose?” I ask coldly, my voice sounding far away. “What’s more important than Ryann?”

“My house, my license, my reputation. He holds it all in the palm of his hand. I have mortgages and bills, Wren. She survived all this time, she can do it again. I’m old and washed up. How will I survive without a job?”

I stare at him in disgust. Part of me can understand his reasoning, but the biggest part of me thinks it’s pathetic, and he doesn’t deserve her.

“Where is she?”

His phone rings, breaking the silence between us. He pulls out his phone, paling as he answers it. “Yes, Alpha Raines? Meet the plane in thirty minutes? But that’s not enough time, and there’s been an incident-”

He pauses and licks his lips, looking at me.

“No, sir, I understand. I’m leaving. I’ll be on that plane. No, thank you for giving me another chance.”

Smith stands up, pulling free of my hold.

“I have to go.”

“WHERE IS SHE?”

Coach closes his eyes. “I don’t know. I needed you to listen- ”

I hit him hard, he staggers back, so I hit him again.

“You lied to me!” I howl and hit him a third time.

Coach squeals and covers his face. “Stop! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

I narrow my eyes on him. “I will never allow you near her again.”

Smith mops at the blood pouring from his nose. “That’s okay. We all have to do what we have to do to survive this world, and not all of us have the luxury of morals and virtue.”

“Coward.”

He leaves me standing there seething. I take a moment to decide where to go, but I’m drawn back to the ice, so I return to the stadium. I’ve still got my skates on. Those sirens scream through the place, echoing and ricocheting back and forth.

The smell of people and food is still in the air, but it’s empty. As far as the eye can see, it’s just empty. Panic grips my insides, turning them as cold as the rink below.

I’m just turning when I spot movement and see her race in on the other side. What the hell?

She got away? I stumble towards her and then stop, staring at the figure in front of me.

“Wesley,” I hiss.

He smiles and takes a few more steps.

She hasn’t seen us yet. I wish I could warn her. Shout something, but she would come to me instead of away. I know her.

He throws himself at me, twists, and then before I can even think, he’s surprised me and got me in a choke hold. Ryann and I never got around to this lesson. I struggle against him, but with my skates on, I’m not as agile, and he’s stronger than he looks.

The last thought I have is that I hope she gets away.

I wake up to Raider kneeling over me. He’s got rings on his fingers and is wearing a leather jacket, and is that eyeliner?

I snap my arm up, grabbing him by the throat.

“Who are you?”

He looks down, the same Raider smile, the same quirk of his brows, but this Raider is darker, deadlier, and far more dangerous. And he’s not my Raider.

“I’m Raider.”

“Bullshit!” I hiss. “Who are you?”

He heaves an exasperated sigh. “You Raines don’t know how to play.”

“I’m not a Raines,” I snap back .

“Yes, you are. And so am I. Bailey, by the way, I’ve been sent by the Golden Cock himself to come in here and play clean up.”

It takes a moment to translate the Golden Cock to Kelly.

“Fucker used the choke hold on me,” I mutter and get to my knees.

“Hey, watch it. Those things are sharp, and I’m pretty.”

“How are you still alive?” I mutter, looking at my skates. “There are clearly guards on them.”

“I’m pretty,” Bailey snaps.

“Don’t come any closer!”

I spin around and get up, peering over the boards. I spot Wesley on the ice with his arms around Ryann.

“No!” I shout, but Bailey grabs me hard and yanks me down.

“Quiet. We don’t want to give away the surprise.”

“Oh, and what’s the surprise?” I snarl, annoyed that he’s stopped me.

Bailey points behind us where I see my entire team and a whole lot of leather-wearing, tattooed men staring back.

“My team,” Bailey says with a wink. “And yours. Now say thank you, Bailey.”

“Thank you, Bailey,” I murmur.

Ramirez nods his head at me. Yarek and Waraski watch the ice with deadly gazes. Evans and Hoffsfield hold my gaze, silent promises unsaid but echoing loudly in the air between us.

This is my team. I’d forgotten how it felt.

I look at the ice and freeze when I spot something moving up the other end. From the other team’s bench, I see the door to the ice open. Raider stands up and pushes onto the ice, wincing. He’s back in skates, and he seems disheveled and like something is wrong, but he’s on the ice. Stick in hand.

“What are you going to do, Raines? I can skate circles around you, and I’m not even in skates.”

Raider glares. “Give me my beta.”

I reach down, remove the guards, and rush forward, pushing our team door open and skating out.

Wesley hears the sound and turns.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Turner? You’re supposed to be gone.”

There’s a huge commotion, and then Yarek puts a stick in my hand. Ramirez stands beside me. I glance at the huge captain as he glares down the ice at our Assistant Coach.

“Let her go!” Raider says loud and clear .

I wonder if Wesley is aware of all the bikers currently circling the rink. I wonder if he knows he’s not leaving here alive.

I lift my stick and slap it down on the ice. My stick is my sword, and the ice is my battlefield.

There’s a code. A set of unwritten rules, and he’s broken all of them. This is war.

I lift again, and Ramirez hits the ice with me.

Crack, crack, crack.

Twenty-two sticks slamming the ice with deadly intent. The entire team is thumping their sticks on the ice, glaring at the man who has betrayed us all.

You can break bones with a puck. You can have your teeth punched out, you can get seriously injured. The damage from a stick can be worse. We’re professionally trained athletes, and we know how to make it hurt.

He turns and smiles at us, saying something that I can’t hear.

Ryann looks up at me. Her face is white, and she looks more scared than I’ve ever seen her, but she looks determined.

“We’re coming for you,” I mouth to her.

She nods slightly, her violet eyes are fierce, her auburn hair is like fire under the lights. She looks like a warrior queen who will be cowed by no one.

He’s not taking her anywhere.