Page 143 of Twisted Collide

The meaning is as clear as fucking day.

He knows what I would do for it.

Sell my soul.

“And how much buys your silence?”

His dark eyes gleam. “Haven’t decided just yet.”

“And if I say no?”

“You won’t.” He steps closer, and the scent of booze infiltrates my nose. “Because I will take away the one thing you tried so hard to protect.”

“Touch a hair on Molly’s head, and the only green you’ll see for the rest of your life is the cemetary before I bury you in it.”

“Now, why would I do that? She’s the reason for all your troubles anyway.”

I don’t dignify that with a response.

“Fine.” He waves a hand. “I’ll leave Molly alone. She’s nothing compared to the other girl, anyway. Anyone ever tell you that windows are clear?” A high-pitched whistle soars past his lips. “Who knew the coach’s kid was so flexible?” He grins like a lunatic. And why not? He knows he has me. “I bet she tastes as good as she looks.”

That’s it.

I don’t even feel the last of my self-control draining.

In an instant, I have him plastered against the door.

He flails in my hold, his legs dangling comically. “Careful there, nephew. You wouldn’t want anyone to hear. How would the coach feel if I told him everything? Past. Present. I have pictures of that, too.”

He wriggles his body until I let him out of my hold, knowing nothing good will come out of touching him.

With a grin, he flicks my hands off his chest and steps out from where I cornered him. “I’ll be in contact.”

The scumbag doesn’t wait for me to respond.

He just walks out the way he came.

My skin buzzes with anger. Ribbons of rage loop around my throat, robbing me of my breath. I want to go after him, throw him against the wall, and pound the shit out of him within an inch of his life.

Fuck.

My fist flies out and punches the door.

The skin of my knuckles cracks, and red rivulets bubble to the surface.

I’m not used to this. Protecting people is wired in my DNA. Since I stepped into skates, Dad drilled it into me.

Protect, protect, protect.

Only this time…the person my loved ones need protecting from is me.

63

JOSIE

I waslate to the game, but I didn’t miss how Dane played. He looked possessed by the devil. In all the time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him like that. His whole demeanor was different.

Sure, he’s always been grumpy, but this was different. He looked like he was breaking apart inside, and then when he fought with the other team, pounding his fists, the blood spraying across the ice . . .

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