Page 176 of Ice Dance Hockey

Pacing the locker room doesn’t do me a lick of good, but it’s all I’ve got. Last year at this time, I would have given my right arm to kiss Jack again, now, the idea of kissing him twists my stomach in knots. It’s going to tear Logan’s heart out, even though he knows it’s fake and even though he told me to do it.

Coach isn’t here to give us his usual pep talk between periods; he’s left it up to the other members of the coaching staff. We’re winning this game despite my reign of terror and multiple penalties, so it’s short.

“Everything’ll be fine,” Jack murmurs, referring to the big kiss. “I’m gonna picture Mercy so I can tell him that I imagined it was him the whole time.”

“Maybe that’ll fly with your guy, but not mine. This is going to devastate him and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Jack gives me one of his sunshine smiles. All it does is make me miss the shy, hard-won smiles I’m lucky enough to coax out of Logan. “You could just … not.”

“If I don’t do what my father says, he’s going to make sure he owns me and throw me back in that center to rot.” I can’t do anything in that facility but, with enough time, I can figure this out if I play by the rules. I’ll go to war. I’m sure I know enough about my father and which of his enemies would love to have that information to be a worthy adversary. I’d hate to have to expose him, but if it means protecting Logan, I’ll do what I have to.

“Sir, sir! You’re not allowed back here,” a gruff voice says.

“These passes say we are. My fiancé’s back there. Linden! Linden, baby. Rescue me.”

Linden’s a dirty blond, broad-shouldered hockey player from Saskatchewan. He’s got one of those “boy-next-door” faces with full cheeks and dimples. He rolls his eyes, fondly. “Sorry, fellas. Let him in, eh?”

A bright white Converse shoe steps its way into the locker room. “My friends, too,” the voice belonging to the shoe says.

“This little boy’s been waiting to meet his hockey hero and get his picture with him. We’ve got passes.”

That’s a voice I know, and so does Jack. “Hey, Captain,” Jack says.

“Hey, son,” he says, gliding into the locker room.

“Ow! You little shit,” the security guard growls.

The muted slap of dress shoes against rubber flooring makes an entrance. It’s Theo dressed to the nines in his little business suit. “Try to stop us and I’ll kick yer other shin, asshole.”

“Dude, you have no chill,” Bryce says, entering behind the trio. “You weren’t supposed to do that.”

“I don’t care. These bastards have Rhett, and Rhett’s my favorite big brother after Merc.”

He thinks of me like a brother?

Bryce spreads his hands as the captain laughs at our potty-mouthed six-year-old. Three more security guards pile in at the commotion, but they’re held hostage by appearances as much as I am. The whole team’s here and that’s exactly the moment this quickly failing plan is meant to capitalize on. It would buy us freedom if we let it. The freedom would be short-lived, but we could leave now, maybe come up with a better solution than whatever this is. I could have Logan in my arms for a few hours.

But then I’d have to let him go again. I wouldn’t survive that.

“Rhett, bite their ankles. Why isn’t he doing it, Cap? Isn’t that why we came?”

Not sure Theo knows the plan either. Though, it’s Theo, he’s probably interpreted the plan in the way he thought was coolest.

“C’mere, little Meyer,” I say, curling my finger at him. Theo bounds over and I lift him into my arms. “What did I tell you about ankle biting?”

“It’s got to be in the right spot.”

“Correct, and it’s also got to be at the right time. I’m going to stay here until it’s the right time for ankle biting.”

“But Logan misses you.”

“I know, bud. And if I don’t get myself out of this, tell him that I miss him too.”

Jack stands from the bench. “If Rhett’s staying, so am I.”

“Don’t be a fool, Jack. Go with them,” I say.

“No, and you know why I can’t. This is our unfinished business, and we’re gonna finish it together.”

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