Page 8 of Pucking Possessive (Kings of Castlebrook #2)

CALLUM

T he puck drops.

I slam my shoulder into a forward from Western State and steal possession, angling my stick to pass the puck down the ice before their defense can regroup.

It’s just a practice game because we have one more game of the season.

Coach Kav is hellbent on us having the best end of the year so we can start off strong in the Fall.

It’s been a fast, aggressive game. Heavy on speed, light on patience.

Just how I like it. After everything that went down the other night at that stupid mansion, I need to get some anger out.

Coach Kavanagh yells something from the bench about defensive rotation, and I wave a hand in acknowledgement, already cutting across center ice.

He’s got the same crash-out energy as Hayden.

He’s volatile, relentless, and I joked earlier in the pre-game meeting that they could be father and son.

They both got pissy about the comparison, which just proved my point, if you ask me. But it works for hockey. Works for us.

At least when we’re focused.

I dig in hard and launch a shot off toward the other team’s goalie, but it hits the post.

“Shit,” I mutter, circling back.

We’re down by one in the second period. I skate over for the face-off, sweat dripping down the back of my neck beneath my helmet.

As I crouch low, I glance toward the stands and that’s when I see them.

Madison and Winter, standing by the glass.

Hayden and Tristan’s girls. Both in jackets, arms crossed, watching intently. Hayden skates past the glass and catches some guy I don’t recognize trying to talk to Madi, and he immediately veers off course and slams his shoulder into the plexiglass.

It makes a loud crack. The guy jumps, startled.

Madison lifts a brow but smiles, shaking her head like she’s used to his antics.

Hayden doesn’t even look apologetic. He just waits for the guy to walk away and then skates off like nothing happened.

Possessive bastard.

I get it.

Because all I can think about is how I’ll never have that with Lilac.

She’s not here tonight.

She probably didn’t want to be after what happened at the mansion. After watching a man stomp on a girl’s skull right in front of her, I don’t blame her.

But I miss her.

I skate hard, knock a pass loose, and we push for a goal, but when I score, it barely registers.

That’s it. That’s the game, and I could not care less if I tried.

My eyes flick back to the glass, and Madi is there by herself now.

She’s watching Hayden skate around, giving fist bumps to everyone he tried to kill at least twice during the game.

Winter’s now leaning up toward Tristan in the breezeway, brushing his damp hair back like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

That’s one thing about Tristan Vale. He’s going to be the first one off the ice no matter what.

He dips his head, murmuring something to his foster sister.

They look like a painting. Tragic and perfect.

I sulk about Lilac and how she’s off-limits, but that’s a different kind of baggage the two of them have going on.

I skate toward the bench just as Coach Kavanagh stalks onto the ice like a man possessed.

It would be hilarious if he wiped out right now, clipboard in hand, but he won’t.

I think he could run laps in bare feet on this ice.

He’s got the best and worst reputation around, and I guess that makes him the best fit for Castlebrook hockey.

“Get your heads out of your asses and off my damn ice,” he barks, which just results in a bunch of laughter.

He looks over at Tristan who is still talking quietly to Winter.

She’s touching his face and the concern in her expression is palpable.

Coach clears his throat, clearly trying not to be an asshole when he says to Winter, “Sweetheart, please get off my goalie and let him go shower before he stinks up the place.”

If looks could kill, Coach Kav would be dead on the ice. The thing is, Winter is the one glaring at him. She’s so quiet, reserved, never causes a fuss unless it has to do with Tristan.

The players file into the locker room. We’re exhausted, wet, and sore.

Hayden’s the first to rip his helmet off and drop it onto the bench. “Well, that was fun.”

“Define fun,” Tristan mutters, throwing his gear like he hopes it breaks. “So what ended up happening with the police after I left for class?”

I don’t want to even think about it. I slump onto the bench and start untying my skates.

They showed up at my door at six am because Tara couldn’t keep their mouth shut when Mina’s parents called to ask if she knew where she was.

“They’re calling it trespassing. The mansion thing.

” I roll my eyes because nothing we said to the police even mattered.

Hayden glances over. “You serious?”

“Yeah. Police say Mina’s death was an accident. And the other girl?” I glance up. “There’s no trace of her. No blood. Nothing. Like she never existed.”

Tristan looks up, frowning. “The body’s gone?”

“Yeah. So either someone did a really fucking good cleanup job after we left, or all of us hallucinated.”

“Jesus,” Tristan mutters. “Did everyone else make it out besides the one girl?”

“Yeah. Except that kid Danny. The one on Lilac’s team.

He wasn’t in the car when we got down there, and she said this morning when I checked on her that no one’s heard from him.

” I run a hand through my hair. “And now Lilac’s parents are using all this bullshit to push her into dating that asshole they want her to marry.

They’re telling her that Mina’s parents can push to hold us criminally responsible, which is bullshit.

No one told her to go in the house. It wasn’t an accident, and Lilac brought up a good point.

When Mina fell down the stairs, she had on a purple skating dress just like the dead girl.

Whoever that fucker was that stomped on her must have made her change into it. ”

Hayden doesn’t even blink. “We can kill him.”

“Kill which one? I just mentioned so many people,” I say chuckling, because what else am I supposed to do other than laugh?

Hayden gets a sparkle in his eyes when he says, “All of them. We can kill all of them.”

Tristan groans. “We just got rid of your crazy-ass stalker situation. I think you need to calm down.”

“We could at least kill this Vincent guy,” Hayden shrugs. “It’s not a problem. It’s a solution.”

“We can’t just kill him. He’s not some rando flirting with Madi,” I tell Hayden, because I know he’s not exaggerating. He really would kill everyone in my little narrative one by one just for fun.

Hayden lifts a brow. “Sure we can. Because he’s a rando trying to marry your girl.

” When he puts it that fucking way, I’m suddenly team Hayden.

When no one interjects, Hayden continues, “That’s the cool thing about free will.

You can kill anyone for any reason. Guys at the gym who talk to Madi?

Yeah, they’re dead. Her lab partner? Told him to switch seats or classes. I wasn’t picky. He didn’t, so I?—”

Tristan elbows him hard. “If the two of you do not stop discussing literal crimes as loud as you possibly can in public, I’m taking Winter and switching schools. You can find a new goalie.”

Hayden turns to glare, but then sees one of the underclassmen staring at him, pale as a ghost.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Hayden growls. “Get the hell away from me before I add you to my list.”

The guy scrambles away without even knowing what the infamous Hayden Lockwood list of people he wants to kill even is.

I can’t help it. I burst out laughing.

Tristan pinches the bridge of his nose. “I swear to fuck if you don’t start using your indoor voices...”

“Is that what Winter calls it when she sings you to sleep?” Hayden snickers, but sobers when Tristan hooks his foot around his ankle and trips him.

“She does not sing to me, she hums,” Tristan clarifies, and I lose it because we think we’re such bad asses and this is what we really are.

Tristan and Hayden bicker all the way to the showers. I hear Hayden snap a towel, and I know it made contact with Tristan’s skin because he’s for sure not using his indoor voice right now.

I’d usually laugh and talk some shit on both of them, but I’m stressed out over this whole arranged marriage thing the Fairbanks are trying to pull on Lilac.

I lean back on the bench, breathing hard.

I can’t let her marry him. I can’t let her pretend to want him.

Even if she never looks at me the way I want her to, I can’t stand seeing her with someone else. Let alone someone she very much does not want to be with.

Even if she never knows how I feel about her, even if it will ruin everything I’ve strived so hard to preserve since the Fairbanks took me in, I’m going to have to do something.

Because if I have to watch Lilac with that smug twit for another second…

I’ll make Hayden’s list look like a children’s book.