Page 59 of Cracked Ice (The F*cked Up Players #1)

I lift my gaze to find Lucien’s hand wrapped around her throat.

He slams her against the target with such a force, the wood cracks and bows.

The heavy splinters mar her porcelain skin and Lucien pulls another blade from thin air, slamming it into the wood next to Regina’s face.

I’m frozen in place, watching it wobble while Lucien’s hand drops back down.

Her chest starts to rise and fall at an unnatural pace, heaving for air she can’t seem to get.

“Apologize!” Lucien’s eyes have all but gone black. There’s no more gold, no more light.

Sweat matriculates in heavy rivers down her brow, her skin clammy and devoid of color.

“ Apologize! ” Lucien shouts, drivel spilling from his lips as he screams in her face. Her lips part, opening to speak, to say something.

But she can’t.

She can’t speak.

“Lucien, p-please let her go. It’s fine, okay. Let her go.” I roll to my hands and knees.

“She wasn’t being very nice , Princess. She needs to apologize.” The words grit through his teeth like rough sandpaper. “She needs to pay for hurting you.”

“I know.”

I slowly rise to my feet, my dirt-covered palms shaking as I try to placate him like last time. “I know. But . . .” But this no longer feels like I’m approaching a lion, this feels immensely more dangerous, like walking in the dark, totally unaware of the real threat that lies within.

“She hurt you,” he mutters.

I hear the people around us yelling, trying to figure out what to do, but since everyone’s phones were taken at the start of this thing, they can’t actually call for help.

They also can’t record, which works in my favor. If any of this got out it would ruin us both, far past the damage we’ve both already caused. Lucien could end up arrested for assault or attempted murder. And me? I don’t even want to think about my father’s reaction to all of this.

“Alright, alright. Nothing to see here, folks!” Asshat’s voice boasts through the speakers, though I don’t actually see him anymore. “Everyone back inside so we can keep this party going. Ooouuu!” He howls, sounding even drunker than before.

Gratefulness is the last thing I thought I’d feel toward him, but the emotion sneaks up on me when half the party follows him back inside.

I briefly sweep my gaze over the rest as they watch on, stunned and curious.

I reach for Lucien, noting my shaking fingers, before I drop my hand to my sides. I just need a minute to calm him down again— if I even can .

Or . . . I could leave.

I’ve done nothing but cause Lucien more problems. Every issue we’ve faced tonight rolls through my head like an old- fashioned reel of fuck up after fuck up. The parking lot, the diner, Chauncey, and now this. Regina’s right, I shouldn’t be here.

This is all your fault. This is what you do. You ruin people. You’ll ruin him too if you stay .

Coming here was a mistake. Revealing myself to him in the first place was even more misguided. Like a wild animal, Lucien attacks first, lashing out before thinking of the consequences. Basically, the complete opposite of me.

The key is to never react.

It’s easier to hide those feelings away, to push it down and ignore the pain until it’s a dull ache you can no longer feel.

If I reacted to everyone I had a problem with there’d be no one left. Shit, look what happened when I tried. I ended up in this situation.

His teammates rush from the house to get Lucien off Regina, but they’re only going to make things worse.

Turning behind me, I see the green-eyed captain leading the pack, instructing some of the team to hold the remaining crowd back before heading right for us.

I thrust my hand in their direction to stop them—to stop him .

I’ve got this.

Our eyes lock for a moment and there’s a recognition that passes between us, an understanding. And to my surprise, he stops advancing. The group follows his lead and an imperceptible nod is all I’m granted.

Despite the situation at hand, I know Lucien’s showing at least some restraint with her, otherwise he would have snapped her neck the second he grabbed her.

Lucien just needs to calm down .

I turn my focus back on Lucien and place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly to let him know I’m here.

“Listen to me, Lucien. Listen to the sound of my voice,” I whisper, running my other hand over the length of his arm until it reaches the hand that’s wrapped around Regina’s throat.

“I know she needs to apologize, but she can’t talk.

You’re holding her too tightly, see? You need to let go right now or she’s going to die, and then we’ll both be in big trouble. You don’t want that, right?”

His eyes slide to mine and that murderous glare stings me. His dark eyes swallow the light, as colorless as the night sky but I don’t leave his side.

“Please, for me, okay—let her go.”

He grunts, but his eyes soften and he unclamps her throat. “Fine.”

She drops to the ground with a harsh thud, but relief fills me all the same. It’s sucked away when Tiffany comes barreling through the makeshift barricade of arms.

“Oh my God, you fucking psycho!” She screeches, running up to us as Regina’s ragged coughs force her to throw up, her body violently shaking at our feet.

“You’re finished,” Tiffany spits, whipping her bleached blond hair about. That usually cool facade all but shattering to pieces now. “No one’s giving you a pass after this. You can say goodbye to your precious hockey career and everything else you love. I’m going to end you for this, Morrow.”

There’s no more relief or fear, not even pity. There’s nothing but frigid anger.

Tiffany bends down, muttering to herself more threats of ruining Lucien as she helps her friend. I squat down too, ensuring we’re eye level as I get in close. I want them to see my eyes, to heed my words.

Regina’s body is still shaking and I’m unsure if it’s because of the fear or the force of her own hurling, but she slowly meets my gaze.

Her bloodshot eyes are red-rimmed and filled with tears.

Blood-stained splinters from the target board are stuck in her dark hair and a hand-shaped bruise is starting to color her neck.

She’s slumped in the dirt, an exact mirror of what I must have looked like just moments ago.

Leftover vomit sticks to her wobbling ruby lip and patheticism whittles her once beautiful features. Using my thumb, I swipe it away. The gesture is rough, it tugs at her lower lip, smearing her lipstick.

There was a time when I thought Regina was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen.

I thought she was graceful in a wild, understated way, much like Lucien actually, until I saw all that ugliness she harbored inside.

Looking at her now, she appears every bit as tarnished on the outside as she does on the inside. My only emotion is vindication.

“Listen up because I’m only going to say this once.”

Tiffany screws her nose up in disgust, but draws her friend closer, who—for the first time since I’ve met her—has nothing to say. I wipe my thumb clean on Tiffany’s dress, and she jerks back, looking like she wants to throw up next.

“You say a word about this to anyone , get him in trouble in any way, I’ll make sure to put that Little Miss Rich Girl title to good use and bury you both. Am I clear?” My words are a whisper.

“But . . . you can’t . . .”

Tiffany tries to speak, heaving clipped breaths as she tries to search my face for a lie. For once, there isn’t one.

“Am. I. Clear?”

If ever there was a time to be a bitch, now is it. Unlike Lucien, I know the consequences should they choose to defy me, and it won’t work in their favor. I won’t have her ruin him, no matter the cost.

Lucien stands next to me, an avenging angel with his arms folded tightly in a shaky attempt to restrain himself. He’s far from calm, but at least he’s not killing her.

Tiffany’s eyes flitter around, catching on to something behind me, before looking to me again. No one is coming to save her either.

“Crystal,” she finally says, moving to help Regina up.

I look behind me to find the captain turning away.

“Not so fast. Your friend there still owes Sydney an apology,” says Lucien, dragging my attention back to the girls.

Regina’s still catching her breath, hunched on all fours and shaking again. Tiffany rubs her back, and that’s when I notice she’s sobbing.

“It’s fine,” I whisper.

“It’s not. She hurt you,” Lucien repeats.

“You choked her!” Tiffany yells back.

“She should be grateful that’s all I did. Now, she has five seconds to apologize or I’m strapping her to my target board and aiming for all the vital spots. You’ve seen my aim. I don’t fucking miss,” Lucien seethes.

Regina sniffles.

Tiffany scoffs, “You’re fucking ins—”

“Sor-ry,” Regina rasps, cutting off Tiffany’s whines, but Lucien’s not satisfied.

“What was that? Could barely hear you,” he taunts, cupping his hand to his ear.

“I said . . . I’m s - sorry .”

Her voice cracks at the end and, if I learned anything about Lucien, it’s still not good enough. I interject so he doesn’t continue to push.

“Thank you. And you might not believe me, but I’m sorry too .

. .” Lucien glares at me but I continue, “about everything. I didn’t mean—” I stop myself from confessing too much.

She’s owed an apology, not an explanation.

At the end of the day, she’s just as responsible for what happened as I am.

“As for your throat,” I point to her neck that’s already forming a nasty bruise.

“I think we all just got carried away.” I let my eyes narrow, looking between the two people I personally hold responsible for ruining what was supposed to be my escape, away from all the mess at home and attending my dream college.

“So, we’ll stay out of your way, and you’ll stay out of ours.

” I let the lingering threat sit between us a beat and then usher us away. “C’mon, Lucien.”