Page 46 of UnWholly Angels (Crestview Cardinals #1)
His next words hit me like a wound that had been doused with rubbing alcohol, déjà vu hitting my senses.
“Well, maybe I am.” With a jerk of his body, he turned away from me for a moment to address the voice that called out to him.
I really enjoyed today, and I hope he did too.
The other voices seemed far away as memories of all the amazing times we had started flooding in.
These memories could stay as long as they wanted.
Maybe Rocco gave up. Maybe he found someone else, which would be equally as tragic, yet I couldn’t stress about it.
It was my turn to heal, to find myself. Riley’s voice cut through the thoughts, repeating my name over and over until I finally met his gaze. “You okay? Was it too much PDA?”
“No, not at all. I do have to admit I’m getting a little tired. Is it okay if I skip the afterparty, you can go,” I encouraged.
“Fat chance I’m leaving you alone in the middle of the night again. Let’s go home. Why don’t you head into the locker room and get ready to leave, and I’ll be close behind, just going to say goodbye.”
I nodded, rising from my spot on the bench and headed down the tunnel toward the locker room.
The smell of the area vastly changed from the cool scent of freshly used ice to something more like sweat covered up with an insane amount of cologne.
It made me gag. I was already nauseous from the spinning.
My fingers worked quickly to undo Riley’s knots and unlace them, giving a sigh of relief when I could fully flex and move my foot around again.
The air changed and was almost unsettling, but I chalked it up to being tired and slipped on my shoes when a presence appeared next to me.
“Do you mind?” he asked, pointing to the spot next to me on the bench.
I’d never met this one before, but he looked younger than most of them, and it clicked.
Riley was always bitching that the rookie would make mistakes as if almost on purpose. He wanted him sent back.
“No, go ahead, I’m leaving anyway.”
The silence was deafening between us, and I gingerly tried to start a conversation. If he’s a rookie, way too many of these guys were probably tough on him. Deep inside, my gut was screaming to stay away from him, and I couldn't pinpoint why because he seemed nice.
“So, how do you like playing for Crestview?” I asked.
He just shrugged his shoulders, and I rolled my eyes, waiting for an answer.
“It’s cool, just wished I could see a bit more ice time.
” His accent was thick and held what sounded like some harbored resentment.
“How does it feel being a lucky one? Angel never comes to a team event, let alone brings someone. I mean, how can one person be so miserable?”
I was a bit offended by that statement. Riley wasn’t miserable; he was an asshole. Those were two totally separate places to be mentally. He cared, he just had a weird way of showing it.
“Riley’s an old friend, we reconnected, and things grew from there.
” I wasn't exactly lying, but didn’t know this kid well enough to give my life story either.
“And he’s not miserable. Riley had a really tough childhood.
Until he can trust you, I can promise you won’t get an ounce more than who he is at surface level.
Once you get there, it’s incredibly worth it, though. Riley is worth it.”
This conversation had me feeling like my boyfriend was a TV in the store I worked at, trying to sell all the special features to a customer who wouldn’t even read the manual.
I huffed, standing up. “Riley should be finishing up soon. Do you know where I can put these?” I asked, holding the used skates a safe distance away from the both of us.
“Uh, when you walk out of this room, head down to the first corridor and make a left. The equipment room is the first door on the right,” he said with a relieved grunt, ripping the skate off his foot and massaging the area gently.
“Thanks, it was nice to meet you,” I smiled, heading the way he’d told me to.
I forgot to get his name. I’d have to remind Riley to go a little easy on him; pro hockey had to be daunting, and a completely different ball game from the minor league.
Truthfully, I didn’t know that much about hockey, which seemed terrible considering a big portion of my life in some form or the other was hockey.
Dread settled in my stomach as I focused on the long corridor, the door coming into view as I turned the corner close to the door.
The light fixtures weren't as bright, and a chill sent a zing down my spine. Cursing myself for being impatient, I hurriedly walked into the darkened room, my eyes scanning for the place he’d told me to put the skates.
The room was adorned with wheeled baskets of unworn jerseys, extra sticks, and gloves.
Letting out a breath of air, I resolved to just put them in the basket and leave.
In the same moment I was going to chuck them, a figure emerged from the shadows, flattening his suit down at the sides.
“Hello, Maya.”
My blood ran cold as I backed into a body, hands flying to my upper arms and gripping them tightly.
“Please, no,” I begged as I was shoved forward.
There was no indication of who was behind me, but I had an idea, and a mix of anger and fear ripped through me for trusting someone when Riley already had reservations.
I made the worst mistake possible by ever letting my guard down. That’s what I got for being kind.
My breath caught in my throat as Rocco inched closer, his shoes softly clicking against the floor as he approached. Once again, I tried to break free to no avail, and Rocco was able to quickly snatch my chin in his grip, forcing me to face him.
“H-H-How did y-y-ou even get down h-h-ere?” I stuttered in a panicked breath.
“Because Maya, I want you to feel and know how close I am. So fucking close.” My heart pounded against my ribcage, watching his every movement as he continued. “That piece of shit killed my brother and made a joke out of it. He’s going to pay for that Maya, and so will you.”
“I’ll give you the drugs and all of the money, I swear. Riley would even match it, I'm willing to bet.” I was trying my best to negotiate so I didn’t lose the man I loved. “Please, don’t do this.”
His dangerous eyes stared me down, inches from my face, his grip on my chin punishing as his fingernails dug into the sides of my jaw.
“We are way past your stupid mistakes, Maya. This is the most exciting game I've ever played, and I can’t wait to see who comes out on top,” he threatened.
Tears welled in my eyes, and I felt embarrassed, humiliated.
“Real monsters don’t need to hide behind a mask, Maya. Remember that while he’s in Seattle.”
Waving his hand away, I was released from my captor’s grip and shoved away harshly. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I practically ran for the door, gripping the handle tightly when a hand slammed the door shut again.
“And no being a tattletale, okay? Don’t make my friend do something he will regret to his own teammate. They need to focus on winning, and they can’t do that without one of their best players.”
Each breath caught in my throat as I tried to breathe through the fear.
Right now, I only saw survival and agreed, doing what I needed to do to get out of the damn room.
Rocco stepped to the side, and in a split second, I was out the door and booking it down the hallway, looking over my shoulder every so often to make sure I wasn’t being followed.
In my moment of distraction, I collided with a hard body, immediately flailing my hand around and trying to get a good hit.
Rocco wasn't taking me back. My fist connected with a hard jaw before hands wrapped around my wrists, and I shut down completely, my knees weak, and body slowly drooping to the floor in a heap.
The only thing keeping me upright was the large grip that held firmly onto my wrists.
Rocco isn’t taking me back.
I’m not going back.
I’m…
I’m falling.
“Get off me!” I screamed against the person with the iron grip. I vividly heard murmuring behind me, but I couldn’t make out words from any of the blurred heads. My knees gave out, and the rest of it was a blur, only calming down when a hint of cedarwood engulfed my nostrils.
“I was looking for you,” the voice said.
“He’s here, he–,” I hiccupped, trying to calm my racing heart down enough to speak. “He was here, please believe me. Why does nobody believe me?” I choked back a sob, fighting the battle inside me. “He told me to put the skates in the equipment room. I'm sorry,” I cried out.
“I believe you, Freckles.” Riley pulled me closer into his chest, coaxing me to breathe. He must have been kneeling on the floor, comforting me, at least I hoped that was what it was. “I’ll always believe you.”
Nowhere was safe.
We weren't safe.