Page 13 of Puck’N Enemy (Thunder Knights #2)

Logan

It’s a while before Dylan and I walk out of the alley. Even though I’m no longer panting, I can feel the adrenaline surging through my veins.

Dylan is right beside me, his bruised lips rising in a light smile.

A heavy sigh escapes me. At least, he’s safe for now.

I walk down the street with him, checking out the crumbling buildings with boarded-up windows and flickering neon signs. Very few people are around, making me feel even more aware of our surroundings.

As we walk, my gaze keeps flickering toward Dylan.

His hands are deep inside his jacket pockets. He keeps his hood low, hiding his face from the rest of the world. It’s like he’s used to blending with his background. He grunts from time to time, probably feeling the punches he took earlier.

But his demeanor is calmer now. His shoulders are loose and relaxed. There’s a softness about him that I haven’t seen since high school.

“You okay?” I ask, nudging him with my elbow.

“I’m fine,” he mutters. “It’s you I’m worried about. I still don’t think you should get involved in this mess.”

I come to a halt. “How can I not?” I say in a low, angry tone. “I’m not going to sit back and watch while someone hurts you. Those men could’ve dragged you back to Pete. You should know when to ask for help, Dylan. You can’t live your life acting like you’re too damn noble for your own good.”

He goes quiet, still pondering over the things he has no control over.

“Hey, are you hungry?” I ask, catching sight of a burger joint.

“What?”

I gesture toward the café. “I’m starving.” Without waiting for his answer, I stride forward and walk through the entrance.

“I wanted to go home early,” Dylan says, walking right behind me. “I have Coach’s meds with me and he might need them.”

“He’ll be fine for a few hours without you fussing about him,” I say, sliding into a booth at the very back of the dining area. “Let’s eat something and come up with a plan.”

A middle-aged waitress in a pink dress ambles over to our table. She doesn’t say anything but stands before us with a notebook and a pen.

“Two hamburgers, two chili cheese fries, and two Cokes,” I order quickly.

The waitress’s gaze flickers toward Dylan but he stays silent. I’m sure he’s more than happy with whatever I’ve ordered.

“I bet you miss this kind of cuisine in your fancy Silverlake University campus,” I tease him as the waitress walks away.

Dylan gives a familiar lopsided grin. “They do love their quinoa salads and Buddha bowls.”

“That’s just sad,” I say, chuckling. “You should consider defecting over to the Thunder Knights. I swear we won’t force-feed you rabbit food.”

He laughs, sending warmth settling in my chest.

“So, how much food does that Mitchikov guy consume?” he asks. “The dude looks like he eats a bull for breakfast every day.”

A loud chuckle escapes me as I’m reminded of my favorite defenseman.

“He’s not bad, you know?” I say, wishing Dylan would get a chance to meet my teammates who’re more like family to me.

“You never got socked by him, I bet,” he mutters, looking annoyed.

“Oh, I got bulldozed by him way too many times to count,” I tell him, chuckling. “Mitchikov likes to bump into us from time to time to keep us alert. Just the other day, he collided with Bastian and knocked him on his ass. He was out for the rest of the practice session.

A carefree chuckle escapes him. His green eyes shine with humor as he tries to control his laughter.

The waitress arrives with our order and soon, the air around me is thick with the aroma of cheese and grilled meat. Dylan eagerly grabs a burger and takes a big bite.

Some of the juices dribble down his chin, making me want to lick his skin.

I take deep breaths, desperate to calm the fiery emotions rising within me.

Reaching out, I grab a handful of fries from Dylan’s plate.

“Hey!” he shouts immediately.

I shove the fries in my mouth and grin. “Sorry,” I say, feeling not a shred of remorse. “It’s a habit to steal your fries.”

His annoyance vanishes instantly. He stares at me with wide, shocked eyes, holding his burger without taking a bite.

“Has nothing changed?” he asks in a low voice.

“Everything’s changed,” I say, knowing exactly what he means. “I’m no longer in the dark and I’m never letting you sacrifice yourself for me.”

He sips his Coke in silence, glancing at me from time to time.

For a while, we simply eat and do our best to steal fries from each other’s trays. It’s astonishing how we can simply be with each other even though we have years of catching up to do.

Dylan’s gaze drifts toward the window. A thoughtful expression spreads on his beautiful face as he stares at the darkness outside.

“We need a plan,” I say, breaking the silence.

He doesn’t immediately turn his attention toward me.

When he finally does, he looks anxious. “Have you thought this through, Logan? Pete’s a dirty, cheap asshole who’ll do anything to destroy you.

” He unconsciously squeezes the paper napkin in his hand.

“You’ve got a great future waiting for you.

I’m sure you’ll get drafted this year and go on to play in the NHL. ”

“It’s the same for you,” I tell him. “You’re good enough to get drafted too.”

He smiles, reminding me of the boy I was always in love with.

“I don’t care about that,” he says. “I want to become a coach when I grow up.”

Happiness bubbles in my chest. “Coaching a hockey team is harder than playing in the leagues,” I say, taking a sip of my drink.

He grins. “I’m always up for a challenge,” he says, winking.

I take a deep breath. “We’ll both get to live our dreams,” I tell him.

“But for that to happen, you’ve got to realize you can’t keep living this way.

You can’t continuously watch your back and hide from everyone.

You can’t run away when things go wrong.

You’ve got to stand your ground and tackle the situation. ”

He nods hesitantly. “What if he hurts you?”

“I’ll survive,” I say, looking deep into his emerald eyes. “What I won’t survive is watching you disappear again.”

“Coffee?” Our waitress is back at our table.

I glance toward Dylan.

He nods, so I tell her to bring us two cups of black coffee.

“Pete knows where you live,” I say after a while. “That envelope he sent you...it was a warning.”

“Wait...you know about that?”

“Coach knows about it too.”

“Fuck!” He runs his fingers through his wild auburn strands, looking disturbed.

Our waitress comes back with our coffee, so I stay quiet until she leaves. Picking up my mug, I take a sip of the strong, bitter beverage.

“What if he tries to hurt Coach Becker too?” Dylan gets agitated immediately. “He’s too weak from his chemo sessions. There’s no way he can deal with the trouble I’ll be bringing to his doorstep. Maybe I should live on campus, after all. But then, there’s going to be no one to take care of him.”

“Dylan, calm down,” I say, laying my hand over his.

He jerks, startled by the simple gesture.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I say in a grim tone. “If you’re worried about Coach, you shouldn’t leave him. I’ll figure out a way to deal with Pete to keep him away from you.”

“But how?”

“I’ve got a buddy who knows people,” I say, hoping to calm him down.

“People?” He raises an eyebrow, refusing to believe me.

“I found out where you were living, didn’t I?” I say, rising to his challenge. “It didn’t even take him five minutes to get your address.”

“Logan, please tell me you’re not getting involved with another criminal asshole like Pete Volkov,” Dylan says, looking worried. “These sorts of people will ruin your life. I can’t let you take a risk.”

“I’m not the one who’ll get involved,” I tell him. “My friend’s the one who’ll use his connections to find us a way to deal with Pete.”

“Who is this friend of yours?” he asks, suddenly looking suspicious. “Are you guys...close?”

A chuckle escapes me. “What? You’re feeling jealous?”

He scoffs. “Ha! You wish!”

“It’s Mitchikov,” I tell him.

He groans. “Not that idiot again.”

“He’s not an idiot,” I say in a grim tone. “He’s extremely protective of his friends. You can count on him.”

“No, thanks,” Dylan mutters, looking gloomy.

“It’s better than letting Pete scare you into hiding,” I say in an assertive tone. “I’m not giving him the power to control our lives anymore.”

He rubs a hand down his face. “Gods! You’re still the same stubborn idiot.”

“And you’re still the same noble idiot who’d take a beating instead of asking for help.”

He smirks. “Touché.”

Reaching over, I grab his hand. “This time, we fight together.”

He hesitates for a heartbeat, but then squeezes my hand back. “Okay,” he whispers, looking both excited and scared.

Relief spreads through me.

I’ve finally got Dylan to trust me.

I won’t let anyone hurt you this time , I silently vow to him. I’ll fight the devil himself to keep you by my side.