Page 118 of Break The Ice

This one is especially bad. I know there is something awful inside it, but I don’t want to know. Except in order to find out who this asshole is, I think I have to look.

I glance at Raider, who is nervously taping his stick. We haven’t had much sleep. I can tell by his pale face and the dark rings around his eyes that he hasn’t slept a wink either.

The trap last night failed. I can’t figure out how. But it did. It’s like he knew. Even before I fucked things up, I knew he wasn’t coming.

I finger the envelope. I should wait until we get off the ice. It feels like an ill omen to touch it, but I pull it out and rip open one end. Inside are a couple of photos.

I pull them out, and all I can see is his skin, his shoulders. Raider, my Raider, with a person who is not part of our pack.

Rage floods my body. I feel sick. No wonder she came all the way out to give these to me.

It’s happening again. He’s found someone better, just like she did. I try to crush the horrible thoughts, but they just press into me, digging deeper and deeper.

I look at the date stamp. A week ago.

I lift my eyes and stare at him. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. It seems so out of character for him, but that’s Raider’s face, clear as day. When would he even have gotten the chance? This doesn’t make sense.

He doesn’t look like he’d cheat. As if he can sense my gaze, he lifts his eyes and finds me.

He waves tentatively, and I remember how we left things last night. Am I welcome back or not? I hope so. But these photos. I don’t know what to do. My head is reeling. I shove the envelope and photos back in my locker.

“Turner, someone wants to speak to you.”

The reprieve is something that I’m grateful for. I follow Wesley out of the locker room and find my old coach standing there in a suit with a broad smile.

He leads me to the room we use for interviews and takes a seat. I sit opposite him. In the back of my head, the time is ticking down until the game. I wish he would hurry up. This is not how I like game day to start. I need to speak to Raider. I need to clear this up.

“Let me cut to the chase, Turner. We want you back, and Coach Smith has agreed to the trade.”

They are trading me back?

NO!

I stare at him, reeling again. Coach Smith doesn’t want me here? What the fuck was this year all about, then? And what about Raider, Kit, and Callan? What about Ryann?

“We can offer you double what you’re on now and anything else you want. But you leave after the game. We’ll have your belongings shipped back.”

I stare at him, feeling my world crash and burn.

He’s got blue eyes, wrinkles around his chin, and jowls that wobble, but he’s a damn good alpha. A man I respect. Right now, I hate him.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just win the game, and I’ll see you at home, son. There’s a ticket waiting for you at the airport.”

I stare at him.

“We’re really glad to have you come home, Wren.”

I stand, voiceless, watching him leave. The last twenty-four hours have turned everything on its head. I feel like my world is spiraling out of control.

I need to see the pack. I need to talk to them.

“Wren!” Wesley shouts, grabbing my attention. “Get ready. They’re waiting for you!”

I swallow hard and follow him back to the locker room where I put my gear on as quickly as possible, rushing in a desperate bid to catch the alpha I’m in love with before the game.

He needs to hear it from me.

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