Page 21 of Puck’N Enemy (Thunder Knights #2)

Dylan

At first, I thought Logan’s constant presence was just a side effect of us finding our way back to each other. But over the past few days, his clinginess has shifted into something heavier.

Logan walked me to class almost every day over the past week. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if we were going to the same school. But Logan goes to Knightswood University, which is several miles away from Silverlake City.

I even found him waiting outside the rink while I practiced with the Bears. He hasn’t bothered staying low and now, all my teammates know we’re seeing each other.

I’d expected a lot of trouble from them but the Bears weren’t as aggressive as the Knights when they found out about my relationship with Logan. They were mostly surprised I’d hooked up with a guy who was on a different team and went to a different school.

Just yesterday, Logan showed up at the food court during my work shift. Instead of ordering any food or coming over to flirt with me, he sat at a corner table, watching the scene.

Each time someone so much as looked my way, he’d flinch and stiffen up, like he was expecting someone to openly attack me in a crowded food court.

While a part of me secretly loves having him close, it’s starting to become a bit of a problem.

At present, I’m practicing on the rink with my teammates. I’m doing my best to focus on the drills for next week’s game but I’m having trouble. Logan’s right here, leaning against the bleachers, hood pulled up, watching me with that unreadable, hawk-like intensity.

“Dude, why’s the Knights’ captain here again?” Reece asks, nudging my side. “Is he seriously dating you or trying to scout us?”

“Or maybe he’s spying on us,” Myers, one of our defensemen, mutters as he skates past us.

“What would be the point?” Reece mumbles. “We’re not playing them next week. He’s most definitely stalking you, Dylan.”

I have no answer to their questions.

Logan’s just been unusually intense over the past week, barely letting me out of his sight. Sighing, I get back to practice, hoping my coach won’t catch me losing focus.

After nearly an hour, Coach signals the end of today’s training session.

Feeling drained, I follow my teammates off the ice and head toward the locker rooms. Just as I’m about to slip inside, I find Logan walking toward me.

“Hey,” he calls out, his voice low, almost cautious. “You’re done, right? I can drive you back home.”

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. He’s not even giving me a chance to change out of my gear.

“Logan, I can go on my own,” I tell him. “I’ll take a bus and it’ll drop me at the stop that’s just five minutes away from my apartment.”

“I know,” Logan says, but he doesn’t back away. “It’s just I’d feel so much better if I came with you.”

I frown. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately,” I say, determined to get back my space. “You’ll feel better but what about me? I can’t breathe, Logan. I have a game next week. My teammates and I need to focus and train. You can’t hover around, distracting me all the time.”

Logan’s jaw tenses slightly, but he stays quiet.

“Look,” I try again, softening my tone, “I love that you’re here, but you’re being really clingy. I’m safe on campus and if anything happens, I can handle myself. You don’t have to spend all your time watching me.”

For a second, something dark flickers in his eyes. It disappears just as quickly as it came. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he says in a carefully measured tone. “It’s that I don’t trust what’s out there.”

“You can’t be paranoid all the time, Logan,” I try to reason with him. “I’m safe here.”

Logan hesitates, like he wants to say something more. In the end, though, he puts on a relaxed smile. “Come on, hurry up. I’ll wait out here while you change.”

I stare at him, torn between frustration and a strange emotion.

A warm ache rises in my chest. Even though his constant attention has been suffocating, I catch something close to fear in Logan’s eyes. I understand he’s still worried about me, so I stop pushing him.

“All right, then,” I say, nodding. “I’ll take a quick shower and come back.”

I head inside the locker room and start taking off my gear. My teammates are busy changing, so I get some time to mull over Logan’s overprotectiveness.

Logan has always been protective, but this is different. He’s been intensely focused on me, like he’s expecting something bad to happen any second.

There’s definitely something he’s been hiding from me. I can almost feel it.

After a quick shower, I change into a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket. My dark strands are still wet as I walk out of the locker room because I didn’t want to spend another ten minutes drying my hair.

Logan’s waiting right outside the door. He smiles at me before scanning the empty hallway.

“Ready to go?” he asks, turning his attention back on me.

“Yeah.” Pulling my gym bag over my shoulder, I follow him out of the building.

A cold breeze ruffles my jacket as we walk toward Logan’s car. He holds my hand but he’s busy keeping a lookout.

It feels like I’m walking with a bodyguard, not my boyfriend.

“Logan, relax,” I say when he opens the passenger-side door for me. “No one’s going to attack us out of the blue.”

“You never know,” he mutters, closing the door after I settle into the seat.

This has got to stop. Logan’s obsession is turning into a ridiculous, unhealthy habit. He can’t keep babysitting me every hour of the day when he’s got his own life to live.

Thankfully, it’s a quick ride from the university campus to my quiet neighborhood. Logan brings the car to a stop right outside my apartment building. Grabbing my bag, he climbs out of the car and waits for me.

His stern expression tells me he’s ready to follow me all the way upstairs and sit by my door all night if necessary.

A sigh escapes me. “You don’t have to walk me in, Logan,” I say softly.

He doesn’t reply right away. His eyes scan the dimly lit street behind us, making sure no one’s lurking around.

Lately, he’s always been tense. He’s always watching for something. Or someone.

Stepping closer, I tilt my head slightly to catch his gaze. “Logan, you’ve done enough. Go home now.”

His thick brows furrow, confusion flashing in his eyes. “You don’t want me to stay?”

Oh, I did. God knows I want him right by my side in bed. But I can’t let Logan keep obsessing over my safety. He can’t mess up his own life trying to watch over me all the time.

“You need your own space,” I say gently. “You’ve got classes, training, and a whole team depending on you. You can’t keep shadowing me like this. It’s not fair to you or your friends.”

He shakes his head with a stubborn look on his handsome face. “It’s not about fairness. It’s about making sure you’re safe.”

Placing a hand on Logan’s chest, I feel the steady thrum of his heart beneath the hoodie. “I’m safe. You’ve already done enough. You drove me home, and I’m fine. But you can’t be here every single night. It’ll wear you down.”

He stares at me with a silent, unreadable expression.

So, I give him a nod and a reassuring smile even though my chest aches. “Go home. Sleep in your own bed for once. I promise I’ll text you first thing in the morning, okay?”

Logan hesitates. I can see him fighting a silent, internal battle.

But finally, he exhales, giving a reluctant nod. “Fine. I’ll go home. But you'd better text me when you wake up or I’m coming back here.”

I grin. “Deal.”

He hands me my bag and leans down to capture my lips.

I open my lips to him, letting him swirl his tongue over mine. Heat erupts deep in my belly, making me almost regret sending him back home.

“Don’t forget to text me,” he says, looking deep in my eyes.

“I won’t. Promise!”

Pulling me closer, he presses a lingering kiss on my forehead. It’s sweet but heavy with something unsaid. He’s seriously worried about me.

“Goodnight,” Logan murmurs, stepping away from me.

“Night,” I say, watching him climb into the car.

Left alone on the deserted street, I feel the tiniest flicker of unease.

Just shake it off , I tell myself as Logan’s car disappears down the street.

Taking a deep breath, I walk inside the dimly lit lobby of the building and head up the cracked staircase.

Reaching the apartment, I quietly unlock it and push open the door.

The creak of hinges is awfully familiar. Walking into the living room area, I breathe in the air soaked with the smell of medicines and the lemony scent of the bleach I use to clean the apartment.

Coach Becker’s on the couch, a blanket over his legs, glasses perched on his nose as he reads a battered old book. He looks up just as I enter the room.

“Hey, kid,” he says with a small smile. “All done for today?”

“Yeah,” I reply, setting my bag down by the door.

“Logan’s not with you?”

Even Coach has noticed him hanging around me too often. “He went home for the night.”

Coach nods. “That’s good. I thought he’d permanently moved in here.” He lets out a chuckle. “Anyway, I’ve had my dinner. The soup is still warm, so don’t wait too long to eat it.”

“Got it,” I say softly.

Walking past him, I go into the kitchen. My stomach groans with hunger after tonight’s brutal hockey session. Opening the fridge, I take out some cold leftover pasta and meat.

I arrange everything on a plate and put it inside the microwave. While the food heats up, I grab the pot of soup from the stove and dig in.

Within minutes, I’m wolfing down the hot food. For a while, my mind goes blank as I focus on filling my belly.

I’m almost done scraping the last bits of food from my plate when my phone buzzes. Frowning, I pull it out of my pocket and take a look.

There’s a new message waiting to be read. But it’s not from Logan.

Putting my fork down, I take a closer look. The message is from a blocked number.

My gut tightens. I open it and find a video clip.

With a pounding heart, I tap it.

The screen lights up with a grainy image of a familiar neighborhood. Eva, Logan’s mom, and Maddie are walking down the neighborhood street. Maddie holds an ice cream cone in her small hand and is talking animatedly. Eva smiles at her, holding her own scoop, carefree and utterly unaware.

My blood turns cold.

Another message comes in. This time, it’s a text.

“Your boyfriend has a nice family. It’d be a shame if something happened to them. Meet me in our usual place within the hour or else...”

The text doesn’t mention an address or a name but I know exactly who it is.

Pete Volkov.

The “usual place” is a location I know all too well. It’s got to be the old, abandoned warehouse Pete used as his base all those years ago.

I grip the phone so tightly, my knuckles turn white. Maddie and her mom have no idea they’re being watched. They’re in danger and there’s nothing I can do to help them.

For a moment, I can’t breathe.

Pete’s doing it to me again. He’s holding Logan’s family hostage and threatening me to give in to his demands.

An overwhelming urge to call Logan flares up within me but I know I can’t risk his safety. I can’t drag him into this mess again. He has to be safe and whole to look after Maddie and his mom.

My gut twists as I realize I have no choice.

I have to face Pete Volkov and sort this mess up.

Slipping my phone into my pocket, I straighten my shoulders. I’ll handle this , I decide. Alone.

I finish washing the dishes and clean the kitchen. Once everything’s in place, I walk out.

Coach looks up as I walk into the living room.

“Are you heading out again?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, struggling to keep my tone casual. “I… I’m going to Logan’s place. I might even stay the night there.”

Coach’s expression softens with a faint smile. “You can’t stay away from him for a single night, can you?”

I fake an awkward grin. “Yeah...kind of...”

Coach chuckles and nods. “Alright, then. Just be safe, okay?”

“Always,” I say, forcing myself to smile while the lie sits heavy in my gut. Swallowing a choke, I step out of the apartment and close the door behind me.

A cold gust of wind slaps my face the moment I walk out of the building. Fear and anger slam inside my chest as I force my feet to keep moving down the street.

I have to end this , I think, balling my hands into fists. I won’t let Pete touch Logan or his family again. Even if it means walking straight back into hell.