Page 17

Evan

The familiar smell of rubber flooring and gear hits me as I push open the locker room door. Practice doesn’t start for another forty-five minutes, but most of the guys are already here. The room pulses with its usual pre-practice energy, skates being laced, and Murphy’s terrible playlist competing with Torres’ even worse one from opposite corners of the room.

My stall feels both foreign and familiar after only being gone a few days. Someone’s hung my practice jerseys neat and pressed, probably Jerry’s work. Our equipment manager’s always looking out for us, even when we disappear without warning.

Mills spots me first. “Cap’s back,” he shouts. He’s already half-geared up, meticulously working on his stick tape. “How’s your mom doing?”

“Better.” The lie sits heavy in my throat. I focus on unpacking my bag, not meeting his eyes. “Thanks for asking. She was dehydrated and gave us a scare. She’s fine now.”

“Scary shit, man.” Jackson chimes in from two stalls over, wrestling with his shoulder pads. “My aunt had that happen last year. She wasn’t drinking water like she’s supposed to, and she passed out.”

“Damn, she okay now, man?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah. She’s fine. It just scared us.”

I nod. “Glad to hear she’s doing well.”

He sighs. “Yeah, back at you.”

I make a noncommittal sound, pulling out my gear. I feel eyes on me, but I don’t continue talking about Mom and her fake medical emergency. I don’t want to embellish my story too much. Less to keep straight that way. But I understand why they’re curious. It’s not like me to just disappear without a word.

“Jesus, what happened to your face?” Torres drops onto the bench next to me, still in his street clothes. He’s always the last to start gearing up, like typical rookie superstition.

“Oh, uh…” I turn away, pretending to dig through my bag. Shit. I was so consumed with Luca’s insane plan, I’d forgotten about my split lip and scratches on my face and arms. “It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” Deck squints at me from his corner stall. “You take up boxing or something while you were gone?”

I laugh gruffly, trying to think up an excuse. “I… um got into a little fender bender on the way back from Mom’s,” I lie. “My face smacked the steering wheel, and glass from the side window cut me up a bit. But it’s all good.” I guess it’s a good thing Luca had my truck brought to his home. Otherwise the guys would be able to see my truck is in one piece.

Torres frowns. “Damn, that sucks, man.”

I force a smile, trying desperately to act normal. “Hey, I haven’t had an accident in over ten years. I was due.”

“I guess.” Deck laughs gruffly. “That’s one way to look at it.”

“You’re insurance will probably double now.” Torres sighs. “You know how those vultures are.”

“No lie,” I respond.

Noah catches my eye from his goalie stall, expression unreadable behind his carefully neutral face. He’s no doubt wondering why I didn’t call him. Maybe my cell was in my locker, but the nursing home would have phones. He knows me too well not to notice something’s off, but he stays quiet. For now. He’ll want some real answers when he gets me alone. I think I might have to tell him the truth. He’ll never buy my lame-ass story.

I’m grateful when Jackson changes the subject. “Hey, you missed it yesterday.” Jackson smirks. “Mills totally wiped out trying that new stick handling drill. Face-planted right into the boards.”

“Screw you, I caught an edge.” Mills launches a ball of tape at Jackson’s head. “Ice was garbage yesterday.”

“Sure, blame the ice.” Torres grins. “Nothing to do with those cement hands.”

The familiar banter washes over me as I start gearing up. I chirp at the guys a little, however, I feel stiff and unable to really join in. Everything feels heavier today: shin pads, shoulder pads, practice jersey. The lies.

Coach Baker sticks his head in. “Thirty minutes. We’re working special teams today so get ready to sweat.” His gaze lingers on me a moment too long. “Good to have you back, Riley. Mr. Barone mentioned you’d be returning today.”

“Glad to be back.” I focus on lacing my skates, feeling the weight of unasked questions in the room. The guys are probably wondering how the owner knows so much about my private life. So far, no one has had the nerve to ask. I’m hoping that holds for a while. I don’t want to get into it right now. I need to burn off some anxiety with practice.

“New owner seems more involved in shit than that last guy.” Mills says it casually, but there’s a question in it. “I don’t remember the last owner watching practices much. This guy is always around.”

“Everyone is different,” I say. “Barone actually likes hockey. Thompson was completely tuned out. As I recall he preferred baseball.”

“Good riddance to that piece of shit, Thompson,” Noah calls out.

“Amen.” Deck nods.

“Good on Barone that he takes an interest.” Coach sounds politely upbeat. “Shows commitment to the team. That’s something that was lacking before. I welcome Mr. Barone’s interest.”

I don’t comment, instead grabbing my sticks and heading for the ice ahead of the other guys. I need to move and get out on the ice. I’m craving something familiar and being on the ice always calms me.

The empty rink stretches out before me, clean sheet just laid down by the zamboni. My blades cut the first lines into pristine ice as I start lazy loops, letting muscle memory take over. This, at least, still makes sense. Feels right and it centers me.

Gradually the rest of the team filters out. Coach has us start with basic skating drills: edge work, acceleration, quick stops and starts. My legs burn, but I like it. The pains helps me forget how much anxiety is balled up inside me. I don’t want to think about Luca, but the bastard is like a backpack.

“Looking rusty, Cap,” Deck chirps as he blows past me during sprints.

“Surprised you can even remember who I am, old man,” I yell in response. I’m not rusty, but I am distracted.

Coach has us doing figure-eights around the circles, working on edge control. Next we break into lines for rush drills. Noah’s in net at one end, his movements precise as he squares up to each shot. The familiar rhythm starts to take over. Receive pass, drive wide, look for the trailing man. My body remembers this even if my head’s not fully here.

“Riley.” Coach’s voice cuts through the sound of skates and sticks. “You’re telegraphing that pass. Do it again.”

“Yes, Coach.” I grit my teeth and run through it again. Better that time. I need to get my head in the game. I’m supposed to lead these guys, not drag them down with mediocre play.

Torres sets up for a one-timer from my pass, but I put it slightly behind him. Shit. The puck skips off his stick, and slides harmlessly wide.

“Sorry, kid.” I circle back for another try, cursing under my breath. “My bad.”

“No worries, Cap.” He grins through his cage. “I’m used to sloppy play from Mills.”

“I heard that, rookie,” Mills calls from the bench.

We switch to special teams work. I take my usual spot at the point on the power play, trying to quarterback the first unit. Torres sets up for the one-timer, Mills works the half-wall, Jackson and Deck battle for position down low.

“Movement, gentlemen.” Coach paces the bench. “Make them chase you. Create lanes. Riley, you’re over thinking everything. Relax.”

He’s not wrong. But relaxing is easier said than done when your instincts are screaming that everything’s wrong in the world. But I force myself to focus, to find the seams in the penalty kill’s coverage. The next one-timer from Torres squeaks past Noah’s blocker. Small victories.

“Water break.” Coach blows his whistle. “Two minutes.”

The team clusters around the bench, grabbing water bottles. Once we’re hydrated, we finish with battle drills: one-on-one fights for the puck along the boards.

Deck catches me with a solid check that rattles my teeth. “Sorry, Cap. Didn’t mean to catch you that hard.”

“No worries.” The shit I’m dealing with in my life, a hard check is nothing.

“Good work today,” Coach says when he finally gathers us at center ice. “Power play’s looking sharper. Penalty kill needs work on rotations. Hit the showers then get some rest. Riley, stick around a minute?”

My stomach sinks as the guys file off, shooting curious glances. Of course it’s inevitable that Coach will have some things to say. I disappeared without a word, and even if I had a reason, he needs to check in with me.

Coach waits until we’re alone, then he beckons me closer. I respect Coach. He’s a former player turned coach. That means he gets what we go through on a personal level. He’s in his early 50s, with salt-and-pepper hair and a stocky build that speaks to his days as a defenseman. Despite his gruff exterior, he’s deeply invested in his players’ success, both on and off the ice.

“Your mom on the mend?” he asks gruffly when we’re alone.

“She’s doing much better, sir.” I force a smile. “Thanks for asking.”

“Good. Good.” He shifts uneasily. “You know it’s not my way to butt into my player’s personal lives,” he begins. He looks a little uncomfortable, but he’s a bulldog so he keeps going. “I was surprised to learn how close you are to Mr. Barone.”

I feel my cheeks heat, but hopefully he’ll just chalk my flushed face up to the rigorous practice that just ended. “It’s nothing serious,” I say, praying maybe that will discourage him.

It doesn’t.

He clears his throat. “There are no formal NHL rules explicitly forbidding a romantic relationship between a player and a team owner.” He grimaces. “Unlike coaches or management, who have direct influence over player performance and ice time, owners are more removed from daily team operations. Usually. Barone is around more than most owners.”

“Right.” I know he’s dying of curiosity about me and Luca, but I obviously can’t be honest with him. I need to figure out a way to tell him stuff without actually telling him anything.

“But even if there are no actual rules against it, such a relationship could raise serious concerns about special treatment.” He holds my gaze. “The other players might start feeling resentment.”

“Did someone complain?”

“No.”

I frown. “Have I asked for any special treatment?”

“No.” He looks a bit sheepish.

“Well, I don’t plan on asking either.”

Being who he is, Coach doesn’t back down. “Still, there could be those who suspect you’re being treated better, even if you’re not. You’re the captain of the team. You need to lead by example.”

“I’m not sure how who I date sets a bad example for how to play hockey.”

He shrugs. “That depends on who you’re dating. The guys might think certain things because the guy you’re with is Barone.”

I laugh gruffly. “I’m a little thrown by this, if I’m honest, Coach. None of you even knew about my… relationship… with Barone until this thing with my mom.” I hate pretending that what Luca and I have is a real relationship, but Coach needs to back off. “That fact alone should prove I haven’t been getting any special treatment. The guys would have noticed if I was. Nothing has changed about my skating or anything else related to my job.”

“You were definitely distracted today.”

“Yeah, I was. That’s because I’m worried about my mom, not because of anything to do with Barone.” Obviously that’s a huge lie, but it’s necessary. “I earned my position as captain of this team. I’m not looking for any special anything. I didn’t even know Barone before he bought the team. I got where I got with hard work before I ever met the guy.”

“I know that, Evan.” Coach rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not trying to imply you don’t deserve your position. I’m just concerned for you. I don’t mean to undermine the hard work you’ve put into your career.”

“I appreciate that.” I really do appreciate that he cares. But it’s best if he doesn’t look too closely at this situation. I’m trying hard to keep myself alive and I don’t need Coach and his good intentions to make things harder on me. “But there’s no reason to be worried. I know what I’m doing. Barone and I are just having some fun.”

“Fun, huh?” He sighs and glances around uneasily. “Do you know who he is, kid? I only ask because I didn’t at first. I just thought he was a business man. He’s a lot more than that. He’s… he’s a dangerous man, Evan.”

You have no idea, Coach .

I pray none of Luca’s men are hovering in the arena listening to our conversation. I can see Luca sending spies to make sure I behave. I don’t want anything to happen to Coach just because he’s trying to protect me. I meet his worried gaze. “I do know who he is, yeah.”

“And that’s okay with you?” Coach looks shocked. Maybe even a little disappointed in me.

I swallow hard. “Look, there’s a good side to him too. You can’t believe everything you hear about him.” I practically choke on those words, but they’re designed solely to keep coach safe.

His gray eyes flicker and I’m sure he thinks I’m a na?ve fool. “I suppose that’s true,” he says agreeably although he’s still watching me like I’m a lamb about to be slaughtered. “Everyone has some good in them.”

“I don’t plan on marrying the guy.” I try to laugh but it’s more of a croak. “We might not even keep seeing each other much longer. It’s casual. I’m not envisioning anything long-term with him.” I have no idea how long I’ll be stuck with Luca in my life. If it were up to me he’d already be a distant memory. My goal here is to reassure Coach, keep my head down, and get through this nightmare by playing great hockey.

“I’m glad to hear it’s nothing serious.” He looks slightly relieved. “You deserve a better man than Barone. I’m sure deep down, you know that.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, sir. I mean it.” I force a smile. It’s hard to be mad at this impromptu lecture because Coach reminds me a lot of my dad. “Family excluded, all I really care about is hockey. You know that.”

He nods, giving a wry smile. “Good. Because I think we have a real shot at getting in the playoffs this year. We don’t need any distractions. The eighth-place team, Providence Admirals, lost their last game. That means we moved into eighth place. We have real momentum and I don’t want anything to interfere with that.”

“Amen.” It’s a relief that Luca no longer needs me to throw games. That’s one small victory I got out of this mess. And while I dislike Luca, with him pumping his money into our organization, we truly do have a shot at the playoffs this year. “We’re just going to keep moving up.”

“From your lips to God’s ears.” He smiles.

“So, are we good?” I ask.

“We’re good.” He sighs. “The other guys don’t know who Barone is. I think we should keep it that way, don’t you?” Coach rubs his jaw. “If they know about Barone, it might undermine their enthusiasm, and right now they’re excited at all the stuff he’s promised us. Hopefully, he’ll come through.”

“So far he’s kept his word.” I’m not thrilled about defending Luca, but to be fair, he has already begun doing many of the things he promised. The game on Saturday is an away game and flights have already been booked because it’s over four hours away by car.

He slaps my back, giving me a sheepish smile. “Okay, I’ll get off my soapbox now. You’re a big boy and I’ll just have to trust your judgement. I’m glad your mom is doing better. See you tomorrow at practice.”

“You bet.” I head into the locker room, relieved Coach seemed reassured by my lies. I hate having to lie, but it’s a necessary evil.

The guys are showering, changing, and heading out. Normal post-practice routine. Nobody seems that curious about what the coach wanted to talk to me about. I’m thankful for their disinterest, and hope maybe I can let my guard down a little, but then I find Noah waiting by my stall. He’s already showered and dressed, and it’s obvious he’s planted himself near my spot so I can’t sneak out.

“Hey, Noah,” I say gruffly.

“Hey,” he responds, watching me as I sit and begin unlacing my skates. “I was really worried about you, man. You just vanished without a word.”

“I know.” Guilt and anxiety twist in my gut. “Sorry I didn’t call you.” I keep my eyes down, pretending to be focused on my skates. “I was so stressed out about Mom, I just forgot.”

Noah is quiet for a few moments, then he squats down on his haunches beside me. His gaze is earnest as he studies me. “I’ve tried giving you space, hoping you’d tell me what’s happening with you, but it’s not working. I need to know what the hell is really going on.”

“You know what’s going on,” I say lamely. “Mom had a health scare.”

“Really dude? It’s me. You think I’m going to buy that weak-ass story you’re telling everyone else?”

I tense and meet his worried gaze. It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie, but then I swallow those words. Noah and I are too tight for me to lie straight to his face. I let out a long, tired sigh. “I can’t tell you everything that’s going on, and that’s for your safety.”

His brows lift. “What the fuck does that mean?”

I grimace. “It means that I have to keep some stuff from you.” I glance over my shoulder, checking to see if we’re alone. “Whether I want to or not.”

“Dude, you’re acting like you’re in the CIA.”

I chuff. “No I’m not. I’m just dealing with some shit.”

“Yeah? What kind of shit? At least tell me something ,” he rasps. “How is it you went from hating Barone, to dating him in the space of a day?”

I avoid his gaze. “That’s not a simple explanation.”

“ Try . For fuck’s sake. You can’t just keep me in the dark.” He scowls. “The day Barone introduced himself to the team, you looked at him like he was the devil. You were scowling at the guy so hard, I thought your face would freeze that way. Now I’m supposed to believe you two are a couple? I’m not buying it. I know you too well, and you’re not acting normal.”

Most of the guys are gone from the locker room, but I still glance around uneasily. I strip off more of my gear and then sit back down with a groan. “If I’m honest with you, you have to swear to keep what I tell you to yourself.”

“Of course.” He leans toward me. “You know you can trust me to keep my mouth shut.”

I meet his gaze and nod because I do know that. Noah is like a vault with my secrets and I’m the same with his. If there’s anyone in this world I trust, it’s Noah. “You’re going to think I’m nuts,” I mutter.

“Try me.”

“I hang my head, trying to sort out where to begin. I look up and meet his curious gaze. “Luca isn’t just a businessman.”

“All right. I kind of figured that from the way you’re acting.” He sounds breathless. “So, what is he then?”

I grimace. “He’s the head of the Barone Syndicate.”

“The Barone Syndicate,” he repeats softly and then his eyes flicker. “Seriously?” He gapes at me. “You mean he’s mafia ?”

“Shhh.” I wince, making a shushing gesture with my hands, and once more glancing around nervously.

“You’re actually telling me Barone is in the syndicate?” he hisses.

“Yes.” I hold his startled gaze. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. He bought our team, hoping to use us for his gambling racket. He wanted me to throw whatever games he told me to throw.”

Blinking at me, Noah says nothing.

“I couldn’t do it and that’s a whole other story.” I sigh tiredly. “But the bottom line is, Barone is dangerous. Really dangerous. That’s why the less you know, the better.” I pull off one of my skates and toss it onto the overhead shelf in my stall. “I’m already mixed up with him, but you and the others need to steer clear of him. Don’t let on that you know who he is. Ignorance is the only way you guys stay safe.”

Noah clenches his jaw. “You say you’re mixed up with him. What exactly does that mean?”

I wince and pull off my other skate. I finger the leather, scowling. “The night we played Bay City Blazers, he wanted to meet me.”

“I remember.”

I blow out a shaky breath. “I had no clue who he was. I thought he was just our new owner. He was different that night. Charming. Funny.” I wince, remembering how easily I’d fallen under Luca’s spell. “I was stupid and I slept with him.”

Noah doesn’t look surprised. “I figured something like that happened. Deck and I saw you taking off with him in a limo.”

“Really?” I wince. “I didn’t know anyone saw me leave with him.”

He shrugs. “You’re an adult. We didn’t think it was our place to micromanage your dick. But I did wonder why you lied about where you were. You don’t usually keep your hookups a secret from me.”

“Sorry,” I say because he looks wounded. “I had to lie. Once I knew who he was, I didn’t want to bring you into any of this mess.”

“You should have though. You should have told me sooner. Maybe I could have helped you.” He sounds and looks so earnest, it makes my gut churn. I believe he’d do anything he could to help, but he’s no match for a man like Luca.

“No one can help me. I just need to do what Luca wants for now, until he tires of me.”

“Tires of you?” He squints. “What does that mean?”

My face grows hot. “The important thing is he no longer needs me to throw games.”

“Okay,” he says cautiously. “But what does he want you to do?”

I grit my teeth, struggling with being truthful. I’m embarrassed to be involved with Luca sexually, but Noah already knows we slept together. I decide to give him more details about the entire situation, rather than focusing on the sexual part of my agreement. “Originally, Luca wanted me to throw the game against Chicago.”

He sucks in a breath.

“I couldn’t do it.” I wince. “But when I refused to throw the Chicago game, I pissed off a lot of really dangerous people. They’re not only mad at me, they’re mad at Luca for assuring them I’d toe the line and throw the game. They bet big and lost even bigger. They wanted someone to pay.”

“Shit.” Noah blanches. “Let me guess. They wanted you to be the one who paid?”

“Frankly, they just wanted blood. But naturally, Luca wasn’t about to take that bullet for me. So, he was going to make an example of me. That was the only way he could calm them all down. He ordered Marco to get rid of me, to satisfy his pal’s need for vengeance.” I grimace because saying everything aloud makes me sound insane.

Noah looks horrified. “Jesus. But… but you’re still alive, thank god.”

“I am.” I grimace. “I’m now under Luca’s protection.”

Confusion washes over Noah’s features. “He ordered your death, but now he’s protecting you?”

“It’s a really long story,” I mumble. “Frankly, I think it’s best if you don’t know all the sordid details. The bottom line is, Luca is now shielding me.”

“So… for some reason now Luca is protecting you. Did that make you feel beholden to him? Is that why you’re… together?” He bugs his eyes. “Wait, are you actually into him?”

“Hell, no. But I need him. And because he kept me alive, he needs me too. By keeping me around, he looks weak, unless I’m his lover. “

“Oh.” Noah nods as if he understands but his bewildered expression makes it clear he doesn’t. “So then he has a thing for you ? That’s why he kept you alive?”

I shake my head. “No. It’s not like that. He doesn’t give a shit about me. He’s using me. We’re using each other, actually.”

“Using each other how?”

“It’s really complicated.” I can’t begin to figure out how to tell Noah all the details of my arrangement with Luca, without sounding crazy.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Noah mumbles. “I’m… I’m not sure what to say.” He flicks his worried gaze to mine. “You need to get away from him. We need to go to the police for help.”

“No,” I say sharply and he flinches. “Sorry, it’s just, we can’t go to the police. It’s too dangerous. He’d find out. He has people everywhere.”

“You can’t just be with a guy like that. It’s too dangerous. It’s too… twisted.”

Noah looks so freaked out, I worry he might ignore me and go to the cops on his own. I’m compelled to tell him more than I want, just to keep him quiet. As much as I loathe doing it, I need to paint Luca in a more favorable light. Maybe then Noah can grasp why we can’t go to the authorities. “It’s not all bad, Noah. He’s also helping me financially with my family.”

“He is?” Noah blinks at me. “How? Why?”

I sigh. “He’s going to pay for a bunch of stuff like Mom’s nursing home and Dad’s legal bills.”

“Why would he do that?”

I shrug. “I guess to help convince me to go along with his plan.”

“I see,” murmurs Noah, his face darkening. “So, he’s manipulating you emotionally and sexually.”

I groan. “God, it’s not really as bad as it sounds. And it’s just temporary.”

He looks nauseated. “Do you hear yourself? You seem so calm and accepting. Why aren’t you justifiably disgusted by this situation?”

“Because the alternative was death ,” I say through gritted teeth.

He flinches at my harsh tone.

Guilt makes me soften my voice. “Is this situation great? Fuck no. But at least I’m alive, and it won’t last forever. I can put up with this if it means everyone I care about is safe, and I’m still above ground.”

He pales. “Obviously I’m glad you’re alive. I didn’t mean to imply death would have been better.”

“I know, but I really need your support right now, not your judgement. I told you the truth, just like you wanted. Don’t make me regret trusting you with this.”

He winces and puts his hand on my leg, shame fluttering through his eyes. “I’m just worried for you.”

I smile weakly. “Hell, I’m worried for me. But if I go along with Luca, I’m sure it’ll be fine. At least he no longer needs me to throw games. That means we have a good shot of getting in the playoffs, right? I’d rather think about that.”

He clenches his jaw. “You’re right.” There’s still obvious concern in his eyes, but I can see he’s trying. “Fuck this drama. Let’s do everything we can to get in the playoffs.”

Relieved he’s at least pretending to be on board, I start stripping off the rest of my gear. “My plan is just to push through this insane situation until it’s over. If we get in the playoffs, that will make everything worth it.”

His smile is strained. “Absolutely.”

“I need a shower.” I stand, meeting his eyes. “But I don’t want to go home right away. Do you want to grab something to eat? I shouldn’t have the carbs, but I sure could use a fucking drink.”

He stands too, nodding. “Some of the guys are meeting up for wings at Becky’s Barbeque. They wanted us to join them. Maybe we should.”

“Let’s do it.” I want to think about anything but Luca Barone. A big plate of wings and a few beers is just the thing I need to wipe that motherfucker from my brain.

“I’ll drive.” His eyes flicker. “Unless you have to ride with that beefy security guy you arrived with this morning.”

I scowl at the thought of Luca’s man, Sammy, who’s supposedly my driver now. I may have to follow a lot of Luca’s rules, but I’m a grown man. If my friend want’s to drive me somewhere to grab some beer and wings, I don’t need Luca’s permission.

“No, I’ll ride with you.” I smile and Noah appears happy at my response.

“Cool. I’ll wait for you in the parking lot.”

“Sounds good.” I finish undressing as he heads out of the room. Tonight, I’m going to pretend my life isn’t a nightmare. I’m going to let loose and do my best to remember how life felt before I met Luca Barone.