Page 80 of Cracked Ice (The F*cked Up Players #1)
“Hand over your cash!” shouts a haggard middle-aged man, his hands mischievously covered in the pockets of his hard-worn jacket. I expect he’d like us to believe he has a weapon tucked away in that jacket of his, but instinct tells me that the only thing dangerous about this man is his body odor.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I sigh. We’re so close, right by the arena.
“I know who you are.” He points the hand in his pocket toward us. “You’re that hockey guy. I know you’re loaded. Pay up.”
I hang my head. I know I said no more hiding, but this might be a little too much for Sydney. She has a life, and now that I’ve decided to stay by her side, I do too.
“Sydney, I want you to run to the arena and wait for me,” I say, keeping my eyes on the walking stench.
She fists my shirt, her nerves tangible in the chilled night air as she puffs heavy breaths. We both know what she’s really nervous about. I’m a far bigger threat than this guy.
“But—”
“I mean it, Sydney! We’re covered in dirt, it’s getting late, and I will be fucking that virgin cunt of yours as soon as we get home, so I really really need you to listen and not fight me on this. Can you do that?”
My cock thickens when her mouth drops open, surprised that I said it aloud for our mugger to hear.
If he weren’t here I’d fill her mouth again for being so readily available to swallow me down but I need us back at her place as quickly as possible, so this unfortunate soul will have to be handled swiftly.
“Hey! I’m talking to you! This is no time for chit chat,” shouts my newest victim.
“Okay, fine,” Sydney huffs. “But don’t take too long. I’ll be in the locker room.” She turns to walk away, but I grab her wrist before she can leave.
“Wait, why the locker room?” I ask her.
Even the mugger guy looks confused.
“Strangest thing,” she retorts. “I let some guy pee on me in the woods. So, unlike you”—she pokes a sharp fingernail into my chest—“I’m covered in dirt and piss.”
Her smart-mouthed tone is adorable when she’s being sarcastic.
“What the fuck?” the guy mumbles.
I chuckle. She has a point there. I had no idea things would get so wild between us, but there are no regrets.
She starts taking a few steps toward the arena.
“Don’t you need a key to get in?” I ask before she’s too far away.
“Ah, shit,” she mutters.
“It’s fine.” I toss her the key I keep on me and she catches it seamlessly in the air with one hand.
Thank fuck these are my same jeans from yesterday.
“I’ll see you in a bit. I’m just gonna handle this one little thing and I’ll be right there.
” I hold up a finger and Sydney rolls her eyes, eyes that beg me to do something about her little attitude.
Her lips quirk into a sly smirk before she turns away.
“See you in a little bit,” she echoes. “ Try to behave yourself,” she calls over her shoulder.
“I make no promises,” I mutter.
I watch Sydney’s hips sway from side to side as she saunters off, knowing that this dude is no match for me.
I’m actually surprised she relented so easily since she’s made it her new life’s mission to prevent me from fighting any more, but I guess dirt in your ass trumps defending purse snatchers, or whatever this guy’s supposed to be.
“Stop trying to be a fucking hero. I’ll fuck you up!” The thief’s voice wobbles even as he tries to sound menacing. He scratches at his face and alcohol permeates from his pores. My jaw sets, cracking as I work to keep calm.
I quickly assess my surroundings, searching the sleepy college campus that’s quiet with all the activity happening up the hill. I stand with my hands in my pockets, peeking down one street, then the other.
“Look, I’m going to give you one chance, man.” I warn, stepping farther into the alleyway. “I’ve had a very long night. I don’t have any money and even if I did, I’m definitely not fucking giving it to you. So, walk away and I’ll call us even.”
“Not happening, Morningstar . If you don’t give me something, I’m going to bring your little girlfriend back here and—”
He doesn’t get to finish that statement. It’s hard to spew threats when your vocal cords have been cut.
I step to the side to prevent the blood from spraying me too much but it’s kinda too late. I sliced a major artery, so it gets everywhere. I heave a sigh as his body drops to the ground in an anticlimactic fashion.
Damn. I tried to warn him.
Wiping my blade on his pants, I return my blade to its holster along the back of my jeans.
Ah well, like I always say, you can’t win ‘em all.
But this might have to be my last win. My last kill. If I’m gonna be serious about keeping Sydney, and finally living my life instead of chasing death and sleep, then there can’t be any more distractions.
I squat next to the dead bastard bleeding out at my feet, resting my chin in my hand. I give him one final study.
“Congratulations. You’re my last,” I sigh.
Standing, I give the street another quick perusal before heading toward the arena, whistling my favorite tune— Kill Bill .