Page 47 of Fate on the Ice

I hate him.

I don’t know why I ever thought he was anything special. He was just an asshole who saw someone with low self-esteem, shitty parents and took advantage of me. He knew exactly what he was doing when he saw me as a brand-new freshman, lost, alone, and painfully shy.

“I want you to leave. Haven’t you done enough?” I ask.

Silence greets my question. I suck in a breath, holding it as I try to think of a way out of this. He’s standing in front of the door. I haven’t even been inside the bathroom yet, so I have no idea if there’s a window in there. I’m stuck and frozen all at the same time.

“Never,” he grinds out. “You are mine, and I’m not letting you go.”

I can’t help but burst out laughing, which only enrages him. But I can’t take him seriously when he talks like that. Hayze is the exact opposite of an alpha male. When Otto says those things, my entire body feels like it’s being set on fire. Hayze is not Otto.

He doesn’t make me feel the way Otto does. He never did. I was just too stupid or ignorant. Whatever the case, I didn’t understand how a man was supposed to make a woman feel when I was with Hayze.

I get it now, and I’ll probably die alone because I don’t think anyone could ever make me feel like Otto does… or did.

I open my mouth to respond to his words, although I know whatever I say is just going to anger him even more. I can already see the vein in his forehead pulsing with anger. But the words don’t come because the door flies open again.

Standing in the doorway, the light shining in behind him, is Otto.

OTTO

I race through the streets of Willow Creek. The motel is seedy, at the edge of town, and I’m pretty sure they rent it by the hour. It’s nowhere a single woman needs to be, especially mine.

Pulling into the parking lot on two wheels, I park beside Grace’s car. But there is another on the other side, which I find odd because this parking lot is usually empty during the day, choosing the night to be in full use.

I find her room. And as I approach, I try to think of something to say to her. Although, I don’t know what it will be. Because the only thing I can think to say is come home. And I don’t think that will be enough.

When I lift my hand to knock, I hear voices, one of them Grace’s, the other distinctly a man’s. Instead of knocking, I do what my instincts demand me to do. I wrap my fingers around the knob, twist it, then push the door open with all my strength.

It bounces off the wall, but I step through the doorway as the man standing in front of Grace spins around. I don’t have to even ask him his name. I know who he is. His eyes widen at the sight of me.

I’m a good six inches taller and about fifty pounds of pure muscle bulkier than him. This must be that little asshole who lied, cheated, and fucked over Grace. Flicking my gaze to hers, I can see with just a moment’s glance that she’s petrified.

“It’s you,” he hisses. Then his gaze shifts to my cheek before it slides back to meet my own. “You got fucked up, didn’t you?”

My lips curve up into a smirk. I can’t quite smile. I haven’t taken any pain meds in a while, and everything hurts, but I’ll never show it. Not to this asshole who is standing in front of me wearing a smile like he’s really going to get away with something.

“Injury on the job. It happens,” I say with a shrug.

I’m trying to ignore the throbbing, even though right now, all I want to do is take something and crawl into bed. Driving here, my adrenaline, it’s all too much, and I know once it crashes, I’ll be crashing, too. I am just hoping it will be with Grace by my side.

“You haven’t answered me,” I say.

He shrugs a shoulder. “I’m here to take my girl back home where she belongs. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to be here with you any longer.”

Grace opens her mouth, then snaps her lips closed and presses them together. She frowns. I’m sure she has something on her mind, but she’s biting her tongue, no doubt realizing that this guy is unhinged.

“What will it take for you to disappear?” I ask.

I’m trying a different approach. I can’t get into a fistfight with him. My face is wrecked right now, and if he hit me in the cheek, I’d probably suffer some irreparable damage. I still have to think of hockey.

I’m already going to have to take more time off than I ever imagined possible. I can’t take my chances. I need this to end without violence. But judging by the pussy standing in front of me, I don’t think that will be a problem.

“Five grand,” he grinds out.

I almost laugh.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from bursting out into rolling laughter and busting my stitches.

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