Page 47

‘Blake?’

Aiden caught him up in the tunnel as the distant roar of the crowd rose into a deafening crescendo. The Penguins had hit the ice…

‘What is it?’ he ground out, his sights fixed on the rear of Larsson’s helmet before him.

He’d done a damn good job avoiding any kind of conversation since his return to the hotel the night before.

The last thing he wanted was to shoot the breeze with his brother now. Not when he was this close to oblivion.

And not when he knew she was here somewhere, too close to breathe easy, let alone speak straight.

‘Rumour has it Zorro is after you, so watch your back out there, yeah?’

‘I always watch my back.’

‘I know you do, but ever since that illegal check last?—’

‘He made it illegal, not me.’

‘Not what he cares about.’

‘Not what I care about right now either. He can talk smack all he likes, I’m ready for him.’

Blake ducked around Larsson, using the giant Swede as a buffer.

Get the message, bro.

He just wanted to play hockey. Once he got on the ice, he could quit thinking. He could quit feeling. He could just be. Because everything would be about the game. Just as it always had been. Just as it should be.

‘Blake?’ His brother came up alongside him again, his concerned gaze boring through their visors. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing’s going on. Just let me get out there and give me some peace.’

He launched ahead of him onto the ice, thrusting his stick into the air and relishing the chants and the cheers as he swept around like a coiled spring unleashed.

This was where he was at home. Not some swanky flat in the city and not in the arms of some broad who he’d been fool enough to let get close.

V chuckled as he swept past him. ‘God help Zorro is all I can say.’

Blake grunted. Too right.

Zorro clocked him, their gazes colliding across the ice, the guy’s sneer like striking a match over gasoline.

Bring it on, buddy.

Bring. It. On.

* * *

Astrid’s fingers hovered near her lips as the opening minutes unfolded at breakneck speed. The slash of skates on the ice and rattle of the boards charged the erratic thud of her heart.

She’d seen them play multiple times over, but never like this. Blake had never been like this. He wasn’t just out to win the game. He was out for blood. And the opposition knew it.

Her eyes stung as she stayed glued to him, each near miss and crushing hit making her wince, her body pulsing with empathic pain.

‘Fury’s back,’ Harry muttered under his breath from his seat on the bench before her.

‘Zorro’s goading him,’ Jake, the rookie beside him, said.

‘Zorro?’

They both turned to look at her.

‘Number 21,’ Harry explained. ‘He’s an enforcer for the opposition.’

‘I thought enforcers were no longer a thing.’

‘Once an enforcer, always an enforcer…’

‘Especially when they’ve got unfinished beef,’ Jake added.

‘Unfinished beef?’ she repeated, fear stealing her voice as her eyes found the other guy on the ice and her heart sank into her toes, her stomach with it. ‘He’s…’ She swallowed. ‘Huge.’

‘Don’t worry, Foxy, Fury knows what he’s about.’

She nodded and eased back into hiding, using their heavily padded bodies as a shield. She knew Blake didn’t want to see her and she was doing her best to remain ‘unseen’, all the while willing the team to victory, and willing Blake to stay safe.

He looked like he knew exactly what he was doing, his skill and determination making Zorro’s attempts to throw him off seem more desperate by the second. But with the game moving at this speed, things could change in a nanosecond. And her straining eyes knew it. Her beating heart too.

Two periods sped past, the pace of the game sending her dizzy as she struggled to catch her breath.

The players were here there and everywhere, the puck flying at lightning speed.

They were locked in a brutal stalemate, the rivalry on the ice reaching fever pitch.

The rivalry between Blake and Zorro even more so.

Checks turned sharper, glances grew more venomous, and the crowd could feel the confrontation building.

Every pass he made, every hit, every sharp turn pulled her further and further forward. Please be safe, please be safe . Hell, she didn’t even care if they won any more, she just wanted him to be okay.

Blake had the puck, Zorro was bearing down, the speed and ferocity making her sick. She edged forward, her hand lifting to her mouth and then time seemed to slow as Blake’s gaze lifted, collided with hers – crack!

One second, he was there, looking right at her. The next he was gone. Taken out by another player. The sickening impact of his body hitting the boards echoed through the arena as the crowd gasped and he went down hard. No, God, no!

Astrid shot to her feet, her blood running cold as the ref’s whistle pierced the air. Coach cursed, their trainer launched onto the ice, his teammates circled as shouts ran out. He was bleeding. There was blood. She could see it seeping into the ice.

‘He’ll be alright,’ Harry told her. ‘He’ll tape an aspirin to it and be back out there in no time.’

‘Or not,’ Jake piped up as Blake failed to move. ‘Shit.’

All the players on the bench rose, some breaking onto the ice and heading straight for the player who’d blindsided Blake.

Others headed for Blake. Her heart slammed painfully in her chest. She couldn’t see him for the team now crowding around as the ref escorted the offensive player off to the box, saving him from a beating as much as penalising him.

Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.

Eyes straining, heart too, she watched as a stretcher appeared and she couldn’t take it any more, she clambered over the bench, heading for the ice when at last, the team parted.

A cheer rippled through the crowd, and she stilled.

He was moving. Blood marred his cheek, but he was moving – refusing the stretcher as Aiden and Larsson each took an arm.

Together, they hauled him to his feet and helped him off the ice.

Head bent, every step slow, deliberate, stiff with pain…

This was all her fault. She’d done this. She’d thrown his attention and now…

‘Go after him, Foxy.’ Harry appeared at her side. ‘He’d sure as shit prefer to see you over anyone else right now.’

He wouldn’t, but how could she not…?

* * *

‘Get the hell off me, doc. I’m good.’

‘You’re not fucking good.’ His brother pushed him back on the bed. ‘And you’re not going back out there like this.’

He was taped up, glued up, dosed up – he could play. The longer he had off the ice, the sooner he’d seize up and then he’d be fucked. But right now…

‘It’s not happening, Blake,’ Coach piped up from the doorway, arms folded across his chest. ‘The ice is cleared, Aiden. It’s time to get back in the game.’

‘For fuck’s sake,’ Blake growled. ‘This is bullshit, I?—’

‘Blake!’

That voice, that woman… Tension shot through his frame, pain with it, and he clutched an ice pack to his battered ribs, fully aware of what hurt more.

‘For the love of God, keep her away from?—’

Astrid flew into the room, a security guard hot on her tail. ‘She says she’s with you?’

Aiden gave a lopsided grin. ‘She sure is.’ He turned back to Blake. ‘Maybe she can make you do as you’re told. Watch him like a hawk, Astrid, and take no shit.’

No shit? She was the fucking reason he’d… He ground his teeth as everyone else filtered out of the room. He dragged his gaze back to her and wished he hadn’t. Every fibre of his being came alive, pain be damned.

‘What the hell are you doing here, Sinclair?’

She hugged her middle, her eyes shining bright in the harsh overhead lights. ‘I had to come and see you for myself. I had to make sure you’re okay.’

‘I’m just peachy,’ he said through his teeth. ‘You can go.’

Please fucking go because all he wanted to do was cross the room and kiss the concern off her swollen damn lips. Had she been chewing them the entire game? And what the fuck was he doing looking at her lips ?

They’d lied to him. Played him for a fool.

Hell, she was the reason he was stuck in here, missing the rest of the game.

Coach had told him he’d been unpredictable, reckless…

Too fucking right, he was. He’d been playing like he had something to prove.

To Zorro. To himself. To her . That he was the hard effing bastard they all thought he was…

until he’d become aware of her peering through the guys on the bench, his eyes finding hers of their own cursed accord and he’d realised he was fooling no one. Least of all himself.

‘You’re not fine…’ Her voice croaked as her eyes swept over him – the glued up slit to his temple, the ice pack on his naked chest, the bruises that were already starting to shine…

‘It’s nothing.’

And it was nothing. Any other game, any other player they’d be back out there.

But reckless wasn’t in the Titans rulebook, not any more.

And he’d been reckless to a fault, too pumped up wanting to forget that he’d been pushing for a fight.

But he hadn’t seen it coming, hadn’t been prepared… all because of her.

‘It doesn’t look like nothing. This is all my fault.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself, honey.’ He refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing it. ‘This is Teddy’s handiwork.’

‘Teddy?’ she spluttered.

‘The guy who boarded me.’

‘Teddy! He looked like a freaking grizzly!’

His mouth twisted. ‘Exactly that.’

She shook her head. ‘You players and your crazy names.’ She took a tentative step forward. ‘Does it hurt?’

‘Which bit?’ He pushed up off the bed, tossing the ice pack away as he stalked towards her, anger firing in his bloodstream as her concern broke through his walls, teased at his heart.

He didn’t need to feel it beat for her. What he needed was to fight.

Get her to go. ‘My body, my face, or what you did to me?’

‘Blake, please… I didn’t want to hurt you.’

‘No, you wanted to hurt my brother, and you think that makes it better. That man turned his life upside down for me.’