Page 3

Penn

I ’m fucking pissed as hell as I walk into the airport’s private terminal, my anger amplified by the fact I got no fucking sleep last night. I should be mad at Mila for showing up at my gates, trying to get me to talk to her, but my fury is reserved for the one who gave her my address.

The lobby buzzes with movement, mostly from the Titans arriving to board our private plane.

This is where all the private jets are kept and individuals in business attire also mill about, talking on their phones to check the latest stock market points as they wait for their seventy-five-million-dollar Gulfstreams to take them to God knows where.

The Titans are off to Detroit and normally my head would be fully immersed in my future time on the ice, but instead I’m filled with rage from top to bottom.

I stalk through the crowd, my duffel slung over one shoulder, jaw clenched so tight it feels like my molars might crack.

And then I see him.

That fucker North Paquette.

I head straight for him, letting my duffel slide from my shoulder and drop with a thump on the tiled floor. I leave it behind without a second thought, ten paces, five, three, two, one…

North turns to see me just before I give a hard push to his chest. “You motherfucker,” I snarl.

North shuffles two steps backward, but I’m not satisfied with that.

I want the bastard on the floor. Before I can move, Rafferty is between us, hands outstretched.

He plants one on my chest and I’m tempted to break his wrist, but his words temper me a bit.

“You touch him again, and I will lay you out.”

That doesn’t scare me in the slightest, but I don’t have time to waste energy on Rafferty when it’s North I want.

I ignore the big man in my face and look past him to North.

I see that Atlas, King and Foster have come to his side.

I’d have to fight all of them to get one good crack at the man who has become my enemy.

“You gave her my address,” I accuse and then carefully study him for a reaction.

There is none. He knows damn well who I mean—Mila—and he’s not denying it.

North’s tone is cool and aloof. “She might have seen your address in my contacts when I left my phone unlocked on the table. But I didn’t give it to her.”

I suppress an eye roll. “You expect me to believe that?”

That seems to trigger North and he pushes against Rafferty, trying to get closer to me. His gaze darkens, and I hear the extreme frustration in his words. “Why are you so pissed, huh? What’s she to you? Why are you so desperate to keep her away? Why the fuck are you the way you are?”

I’m pissed because I left that part of my life behind.

She’s nothing to me. Not now, anyway.

I’m desperate to keep her away because she brings nothing but bad memories.

And why am I the way I am? Fuck if I know, but it all started a long time ago and Mila Brennan was part of it.

I don’t say any of those things, instead slapping Rafferty’s hand from my chest. “None of your fucking business. Stay out of it.”

“Like hell I will,” North seethes, pointing a damning finger at me. “You’ve been acting weird for months, and now some woman from your past shows up, and you lose your shit? That’s not normal, Penn.”

“North,” Rafferty warns, but neither of us spare him a glance.

“Let’s lay it all out,” North snaps at me, slightly acidic, and I have to wonder why he’s so feral about all this.

This should mean nothing to him, but something’s driving his rage.

“The fan who called you a traitor. McLendon going after you in that game. The teddy bear. And now this? McLendon played with you in juniors, didn’t he?

Is this about that hazing incident where a teammate died? ”

My entire body shakes with fury. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Jesus fucking Christ. He’s putting everything together.

No matter how far under the radar I try to fly, North’s like a goddamn Sherlock Holmes, and he’s laying it all out there for everyone to hear.

I glance at King, the only person on this team who knows the truth of what happened all those years ago, but he looks shocked to hear North’s allegations.

I can only surmise he’s kept my secret and North is throwing spaghetti at the wall, hoping something sticks.

And now I’m dangerously close to losing my shit because the one thing I cannot handle right now is for everyone to know my past.

“You heard me,” North taunts, stepping in closer. “Is this about that kid? Is that why McLendon hates you? Is that why you’re acting like a goddamn hermit?”

My vision goes black for a second and I seem to lose sense of time and place.

I’ve got no control over my body and I don’t intend my actions, but I find myself leaping toward North so fast, neither he nor Rafferty can react.

I shove North as hard as I can and he goes flying, arms windmilling to try to regain his balance.

He’d go down too if it weren’t for Atlas at his back, catching him before he hits the ground.

“Mind your own fucking business, North!” I yell, so loud that everyone turns to look at me. I can’t seem to control my words and they feel liberating to let them loose. “Or so help me God, I will kill you.”

I hear several gasps, chokes of disbelief, and someone yells, “What the fuck, dude?”

The threat should have been enough to end the discussion, but North seems angrier than ever. He leans forward, snarling. “You think I haven’t tried? You’re my teammate, Penn. We care about you, but you’re making it real hard to have your back when you keep shutting us out.”

He cares about me? I can’t help but scoff at the notion and it’s so ridiculous that I turn on my heel and move toward the line forming to board the plane.

“Penn.”

I spin, still willing to toss a punch to get these fuckers to leave me alone. Instead, I find Atlas there, holding my duffel I’d dropped to the floor. He doesn’t look angry or riled up—just assessing me, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“What the hell is going on?” he asks, holding out my bag.

I yank the duffel from his grip. “Nothing.”

Atlas doesn’t look convinced. “Bullshit. You just attacked one of your own teammates. That’s not cool.”

“Stay out of it.”

Atlas holds my gaze, unwavering. “No. I know something’s been eating you alive since the moment you got here.” His voice lowers. “Maybe it’s time to let someone in.”

I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Yeah? You volunteering?”

His expression doesn’t change. “Yeah, I am.”

Something ugly and cynical unfurls in my chest. I don’t have time and certainly not the energy to explain to him all the ways that team camaraderie, loyalty and devotion are nothing but a crock of shit. “Just leave me alone, okay?”

Atlas doesn’t reply. He watches as I shoulder my bag and head for the jet bridge. He doesn’t know me. None of them do. And that’s how I want it.

I approach my usual seat on the team plane, shoving my duffel into the overhead bin before collapsing into the chair nearest the window.

No one ever sits in the one beside me because I’ve been very good at keeping my walls up so high, no one even tries for polite conversation anymore.

I slip my headphones on, pulling up my playlist and hitting play on a heavy metal track with punishing drums and aggressive riffs. It matches my dark mood.

I need to drown out my thoughts so I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the cushion. I try to fall into a void where everything is black and blank, without any meaning.

It doesn’t work though because the second I close my eyes, I see her. Small frame, hunched shoulders, standing at the locked gates at the end of my driveway.

I’d been sitting at home last night, surfing the internet and catching up on the news when my phone buzzed, the notification lighting up my screen. Gate Camera—Motion Detected.

I tapped the alert and saw a small dark crossover SUV idling there with the window up. The glare from gate lighting prevented me from seeing who was inside, but then the door opened and she stepped out.

Mila.

She walked up to the security pad and studied it. It has a CALL button, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she lifted her face and looked right up at the security camera mounted on top of the twelve-foot stone column where the left gate hinges.

I haven’t seen her in a decade, but there was no mistaking her. She’s not fifteen anymore. She’s… beautiful, eyes darting back to the box as she wrung her hands together. She looked around and no doubt she was nervous.

I exhaled slowly, not waiting for her to press the button. I opened the speaker to the security box with a tap to my screen and said, “Go away.”

She startled, whipping around to face the camera directly.

“Penn, please.” Her plea was soft, urgent. “I just need to talk.”

I didn’t answer, glancing away from my phone. It was painful to see her.

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important,” she implored, and it drew my eyes back. I tried to ignore the emotions twisting deep in my chest because I didn’t want it to matter that she was here.

But it did. It fucking did.

In fact, it mattered so much, I had no choice but to say, “You need to leave.”

A frustrated breath left her lips, and she shifted on her feet. “I’m in trouble, Penn. And you might be too.”

I clenched my jaw. Didn’t respond. I’d been in trouble for years and knew a day of reckoning was coming. It’s what consumed my thoughts when I wasn’t on the ice.

“I just…” She sounded pitiful almost. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

She looked up at the camera again, her blue eyes glassy. She wasn’t faking it. She was afraid.

The part of me that still held somewhat of a human conscience wanted to open the gate. Wanted to hear her out. But I couldn’t.

Because the last time I got involved, I wasn’t the hero.

I was the fucking villain and I wasn’t ever going through that again.

I didn’t answer her plea. I hardened my heart and shut off my phone, effectively disconnecting the line to the security box. She wouldn’t know I was gone. In fact, she was probably still trying to talk to me, unaware that I could no longer see or hear her.

She had no clue that I’d shut her out, but she’d figure it out eventually. She’d give up and leave.

Eventually.

I got up from the chair and padded into the kitchen. I unloaded my dishwasher, rearranged my pantry and threw away some expired items from the fridge. All busy work that I hate doing, but it forced me to disregard my phone for a good ten minutes.

When I finally turned it on and pulled up my security app, I saw that she was gone, and yes, I was relieved. Definitely a bastard for it, but a weight lifted.

Something brushes my arm and my eyes jerk open, causing me to fall headfirst back into the present. Someone’s sitting beside me and I’m not surprised to see King.

He witnessed the altercation between me and North, but that’s not why he’s encroaching on my space. He’s here because while North is starting to piece things together, it’s Jack “King” Kingston with whom, in a moment of weakness, I shared the truth of my story.

He’s the only one who knows exactly why I am the way I am and the sins I’m running from.

Since that day I bared my all to him, he’s seemingly kept his promise not to tell a soul.

That was never more evident than back in the terminal where North took wild guesses based on a few events that have happened since the season started and perhaps a little sleuthing into my past. Most of it is public record, but there’s no way North could ever figure out the full truth.

I shift, keeping my eyes forward, but I feel King’s gaze. Assessing. Calculating. I listen to my music, relishing in the fact I can’t hear a damn thing other than that.

King elbows me and with a sigh, I look his way. He motions to my headphones and I reluctantly take them off. “What?” I snap.

“You’ve got to get this under control,” he says quietly.

I exhale slowly. “I’ve got it handled.”

King watches me. “That shit you did with North… that’s not acceptable.

You turn on your teammates, you’re going to take this team down with you.

And I’m here to tell you, I will not let that happen.

I can see that championship. I want it and so does everyone else.

But you’re going to tear this team apart because of what happened to you in the past. You will ruin a lot of dreams in the process. ”

Fuck… that’s a gut punch. I have to force my gaze to stay on him when I really want to hang my head.

“That girl,” King says quietly. “She part of it?”

I don’t move. Don’t react. But my fingers tighten slightly where they rest on my thigh.

I don’t know what he’s heard about Mila outside of me screaming at North about her a few minutes ago.

I don’t know if he knows she came looking for me.

While he knows what happened to me when I played for the Wraiths, I didn’t tell him about Mila. She wasn’t pertinent at the time.

He’s never asked for details, never pried into the parts I wasn’t willing to talk about. But now, with Mila showing up, I sense he’s trying to get the whole story.

And for some reason, I let myself answer honestly.

“She was part of it.” He can draw his own conclusions from that statement.

King doesn’t say anything at first. But after a long moment, he shifts beside me, adjusting in his seat. “Then you need to decide what you’re going to do about it. And you need to decide soon.”