Page 75 of Cracked Ice (The F*cked Up Players #1)

I soften my features and smile. “I got him. I promise,” I tell Trevor.

His eyes search mine for a second before he relents, granting me one last show of those beautiful dimples before backing away and heading toward Chauncey and everyone else to clean up this whole mess.

If anyone can do it, their fearless, level-headed captain can.

I don’t know the full story of what he and Lucien are to each other, or why Trevor submits to him the way he does, but I’m glad Lucien has someone like Trevor in his life.

“Good luck, Captain” I whisper.

“Hey, Lucien.” I try to keep my voice even and calm, but he doesn’t respond. He just keeps hitting the guy. Blood splatters onto my cheek and coats Lucien’s hands.

Cold mountain wind whips through the air, stinging my exposed skin and chilling the fury burning within everyone except Lucien. It only fans his flames.

“ Lucien .”

My nerves frizzle and fray with the amount of built up sexual frustration that’s burning through me.

Every time I’m close to having my moment with Lucien and confessing my true feelings, I’m thwarted.

I want him to feel better, to unleash all that fury on me instead, but he’s no longer here with me. He’s somewhere else entirely right now.

“Lucien,” I try again.

Nothing.

“Lucien, fuck, you gotta stop. We have to go.”

Again he doesn’t hear me.

In the time I’ve spent with Lucien tonight I’ve noticed he showcases a different type of rage when he’s personally insulted than when someone he cares about is harmed or insulted.

Then, it’s like nothing else exists and he’s a totally different person.

I let out a panicked breath. He’s clearly upset, and I think I know why.

Someone hurt Trevor. And someone tried to hurt me.

He felt helpless and out of control, two emotions I now know he can’t stand to feel. But even with that, we have to go. Now.

“Lucien, please. Come with me.” I yank at his shirt, pulling on him a couple of times before he stops, the haze lifting.

Finally, he sees me.

He looks like he wants to protest but one look at my tattered appearance, bleeding knees, reddened cheeks and a rats nest of hair, he’s grabbing my hand, and we’re running.

I stare up at him as we run, shocked by his sudden change in demeanor but he seems more like his regular weird self and less like the unhinged monster he was a second ago.

Yet something pulls at me to reach out to him again.

“Let’s go to my house,” I say, the offer more timid than I’d like.

“Yeah, but we can’t take the car. We’ll get blocked in,” he says, looking up and down Sorority Row that has cops flooding in from both sides.

Just great . We break into a sprint through the backyard and straight through the line of trees that lead to the forest. The conifers are tall and the brush thick so they’re our best chance.

If we cut through them, we can get to the arena and from there it’s a straight shot to my apartment.

Sharp branches block our path and scratch at my thighs.

They pull the hoodie from my head and tangle their claws in my hair, but we keep running.

The wind howls and violates my body, thrusting a bone-deep chill to rattle me beneath the barely warm cover up.

Twigs snap beneath our feet as we pound through the forest, the underbrush sticking to my bare feet and the mud sloshing between my toes.

Several minutes pass and the sound of sirens hushes to a whisper. Only the forest acknowledges us now.

After running for what feels like forever, our predicament truly starts to dawn on me.

“How did we get here?” I chuckle, laughing at the insanity of it all. I just wanted to have sex with a guy I’m pretty sure I’m in love with. Is that so wrong?

I stumble to a halt, bracing my hands on my bloody knees, and ready to curse the universe.

“Come on, we can’t stop,” says Lucien.

“If you haven’t noticed I’m running barefoot in a dress through the goddamn woods!” I shout.

Lucien rests his shoulder against a tree, amused with my bereft state.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s not so bad. You’re actually faster than I gave you credit for. I’m impressed. But you know, if we’re going to be fucking, you’re going to have to build up your endurance,” he taunts, hiking his brows up and down suggestively.

I glare at him even as I struggle to catch my breath.

“I’m an athlete too. I have plenty of endurance!” I huff.

“Oh, yeah?” He pushes off the tree, arms still folded. “Then let’s play another little game.”

“No! I’m sick of your games, Lucien. Let’s just go home .”

He smiles warmly at me, beaming so brightly that I wonder if it’s for the same reason I warm inside: the idea we could have a home . . . together.

“But you’ll like this game.”

“Doubt it,” I mutter.

“Oh, but you see, I know your secret.”

I stop breathing.

“I know you love a challenge.” Breath returns in a painful rush. “So, how about I give you that rematch you begged for? If you beat me in a race. I’ll fuck you right here and now.”

Fear aside, we grin simultaneously because he’s right. I do like this game.

“Okay, one last game,” I relent, meeting his challenge and biting the corner of my lip. “And then you’re mine.”