Page 43 of Wicked Ends (Hellions of Hade Harbor #4)

Arianna

The Hellions’ dorm was lit up, dazzling in the dark night, every single light blazing. The outside deck was packed with people, the doors open, and a low, thumping electronic bass vibrated the sidewalk under my feet as I stood across the street.

A banner was pinned up above the front door.

People were dressed in hockey jerseys and masks, the girls in cute outfits like the team’s Ice Girls might wear at a big game.

Green-and-black attire was abundant. I didn’t recognize anyone, which made sense, as most were in hockey masks of different types.

From the classic goalie mask, painted with Hellion colors, to masks with cages, to street hockey masks, they were everywhere.

On the grass lay a bunch of discarded clothing.

I glanced around quickly, wondering if the owners were coming back for their stuff, but there was no one in sight.

I grabbed one of the masks from the top, a street hockey mask, and slipped it on.

It covered my face entirely, except for my eyes and small nose and mouth slots.

Marcus had finally answered my messages with a shared location and no explanation. As soon as I’d realized it was the Hellions’ dorm, I’d decided that I would turn around and go back to the motel… but now I was masked and stepping through the front door.

I couldn’t help it. I was worried about him. He’d lost control, and in a game like ice hockey, that could be dangerous.

I’d just check he was okay and that his wound was taken care of, and then I’d go. I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I knew.

The lower floor of the dorm heaved with people. Given the money that flowed into HHU for the team from sponsors and alums, it was no surprise how nice the accommodations were. It seemed even a college dorm could put my room at the Night Owl to shame.

I walked through the sitting room and communal spaces on the ground floor, sliding around people dancing and playing pool. Others participated in a lively game of strip beer pong. I lowered my eyes and kept going. I didn’t belong here.

Even when I’d been a student myself, I had never belonged at carefree, wild parties like these.

I’d lived at home, for a start, under my brother’s watchful eyes.

He was more controlling than my grandparents had ever been.

Sure, I’d managed to date here and there, guys from my program who I could see during the day while I was out and steal some time with…

but no one had ever lasted after meeting Dale.

Our relationship would get to the point where they wound up bringing me home, and then, it would be over.

Dale would strut around and intimidate them, and not a single one was invested enough in me to put up with it.

I couldn’t blame them.

Talk badly about my favorite teacher one more fucking time, and I’ll put you across my knee and make you scream.

Marcus’ determined, casually confident words ran through my mind, never far away, honestly.

Here, in Hade Harbor and with him, was the first time in my life I’d ever reflected on the litany of crap I talked to myself, about myself.

It was pretty shitty… but it had taken moving across the country to see it.

It had taken breaking free of the man who had controlled my life with a cruel, iron fist.

I reached a stuffy, hot room and immediately recognized a couple of Ice Gods.

Beckett Anderson and Cayden West. They had no masks on, and no hockey jerseys either, which made sense considering they played a hard game and had no doubt changed after.

They were playing poker with a couple of other guys from the team.

I also recognized their girlfriends, Lily Williams, the coach’s daughter, and Eve Martino, Asher’s sister, sitting behind them, gazing out over the backyard, talking animatedly between them.

“He’s not in here,” a deep voice said behind me.

I jerked and turned. Asher Martino. He had his arm slung around the shoulders of a beautiful girl with icy-blonde hair. She eyed me curiously.

“Who?” I heard myself ask.

Asher smirked. “The guy you’re here for. Don’t worry, Professor… your secret is safe with us.”

“Stop being so obvious,” the girl said, elbowing her boyfriend lightly in the ribs before holding out a slender hand to me.

I shook it, and she smiled.

“I’m Winter, and I saw Marcus in the basement a little while ago.”

“In the basement?”

“There’s a rec room down there,” she explained and pointed toward a staircase at the end of the hall.

“How did you recognize me?” I wondered, before turning to the stairs.

“You kind of stand out, and I mean it as a compliment… you’re like the school celebrity.”

I shook my head. “I’m really not. I’m just someone who likes to play the piano.”

“And is good enough at it to get hired to teach at HHU at twenty-five,” Asher interjected.

“Covering leave,” I corrected.

He shrugged. “Still, without your musical talent, there’d have been no shot. Don’t be shy about it, Professor.”

“You have a talent, it’s a gift,” Winter said. “Own it.”

I swallowed down another protest. I could tell these twenty-year-olds that gifts didn’t mean much when life had beaten you down and crushed any youthful, hopeful dreams, but what would be the point?

It would just be an excuse, at the end of the day, for why I’d let my own dreams slip away.

My issues weren’t their issues, and I hoped against all hope that they’d never experience the special kind of heartbreak that comes from knowing that you could have been something… but you never will.

The stiffness in my fingers was a constant reminder that I’d never truly be great at performing again. That was gone forever.

I left Asher and his girlfriend with the rest of the Ice Gods and made my way along the hall. I kept turning around, as it felt like eyes were on me. Had others recognized me? I didn’t see any students I knew from music classes, and besides, everyone was deeply absorbed in partying, it seemed like.

But still, the feeling of being watched remained.

I reached the top of the stairs and turned around one last time to scan the crowd. I couldn’t make out anyone in particular. I turned and quickly hurried down the stairs, nearly missing a step thanks to my mask obscuring my view of my feet.

At the bottom of the stairs, a long hallway stretched out. There were several closed doors on either side, but the sound of music was coming from farther down the hall. I drifted in that direction, still feeling the prickling sensation of being watched.

I was rethinking the entire idea of coming and checking on Marcus, when I rounded the corner and an open door showed the rec room beyond.

A couple of students were in there, playing pool.

They ignored me when I went in and continued their game.

I drifted to the corner where an old record player was playing.

Marcus didn’t seem to be down here anymore.

Should I leave? The record finished as I stood there, and I picked up the needle and dropped it back on, starting the song again. The people playing pool finished and left the room, leaving a heavy kind of silence in their wake, punctuated only by the low, intimate beats of the song.

I should go , I decided firmly. He wasn’t here, and I was wasting my time. He was okay, though, as his friends had seen him. I headed back to the door. A shadow moved in the dark hallway that led back to the stairs.

A person in a white mask stared at me from across the hall. They were in one of those vintage masks, the kind that horror movies had made popular. A chill skittered down my spine.

“Marcus?” I called out.

The tall, broad figure strode down the hallway toward me.

I backed up, retreating into the room, my heart beating wildly.

It had to be him; I knew it was him by the shape of his shoulders and the way he walked.

I knew it was him, and yet, a genuine thrill of fear slid through me.

I stumbled into the pool table when he entered.

“Marcus, I know it’s you,” I called to him.

He closed the door behind him with a deafening snick. We were all alone.

That eerie mask tilted, and I questioned my certainty.

“I know it’s you, so don’t try and trick me…” I took my mask off and tossed it onto the velvet.

I slid along the pool table. He tracked me. I hurried around, putting it between us. We stared at each other, then I feinted left, trying to make him go in the other direction.

He didn’t fall for it, lunging right and grabbing me.

“You think you can misdirect me. I’m a goalie, remember.

I’ll always catch you.” His arms went around my middle, and he hauled me against him.

“Why’d you come here, Ari? I thought I was meant to be staying away from you until the end of the term, remember?

Are you trying to torture me, or do you want something from me? ”

I pulled at his arms around me, but they didn’t budge around me. “I was worried about you. You were hurt?—”

He released me long enough to let me twist around, and then he was there, caging me in against the pool table. I could only make out his hazel eyes through the holes in his mask.

“You were worried,” he repeated.

I nodded. “I-I can’t stop seeing your blood on the ice,” I admitted. The image of Marcus diving into the fray, and then the whistle blowing, and the red splattered against the white was haunting me.

I’d seen too many people I cared about be hurt and bleed. I couldn’t stand it.

“It was awful,” I said softly.

I couldn’t read Marcus’ face through that mask. I had no idea what he was thinking. He was unmoving, his arms braced on either side of me, his head lowered enough that he could stare into my eyes.

“Be careful, Ari… I might start to think you really do worry about me… and then, you should know—I’ll never let you go.”

A hand of fear and something else, something wrong and illicit… anticipation… clenched around my heart.

“Very funny.”