“I’m Raider.”
“Bullshit!” I hiss. “Who are you?”
He heaves an exasperated sigh. “You Raines don’t know how to play.”
“I’m not a Raines,” I snap back.
“Yes, you are. And so am I. Bailey, by the way, I’ve been sent by the Golden Cock himself to come in here and play clean up.”
It takes a moment to translate the Golden Cock to Kelly.
“Fucker used the choke hold on me,” I mutter and get to my knees.
“Hey, watch it. Those things are sharp, and I’m pretty.”
“How are you still alive?” I mutter, looking at my skates. “There are clearly guards on them.”
“I’m pretty,” Bailey snaps.
“Don’t come any closer!”
I spin around and get up, peering over the boards. I spot Wesley on the ice with his arms around Ryann.
“No!” I shout, but Bailey grabs me hard and yanks me down.
“Quiet. We don’t want to give away the surprise.”
“Oh, and what’s the surprise?” I snarl, annoyed that he’s stopped me.
Bailey points behind us where I see my entire team and a whole lot of leather-wearing, tattooed men staring back.
“My team,” Bailey says with a wink. “And yours. Now say thank you, Bailey.”
“Thank you, Bailey,” I murmur.
Ramirez nods his head at me. Yarek and Waraski watch the ice with deadly gazes. Evans and Hoffsfield hold my gaze, silent promises unsaid but echoing loudly in the air between us.
This is my team. I’d forgotten how it felt.
I look at the ice and freeze when I spot something moving up the other end. From the other team’s bench, I see the door to the ice open. Raider stands up and pushes onto the ice, wincing. He’s back in skates, and he seems disheveled and like something is wrong, but he’s on the ice. Stick in hand.
“What are you going to do, Raines? I can skate circles around you, and I’m not even in skates.”
Raider glares. “Give me my beta.”
I reach down, remove the guards, and rush forward, pushing our team door open and skating out.
Wesley hears the sound and turns.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Turner? You’re supposed to be gone.”
There’s a huge commotion, and then Yarek puts a stick in my hand. Ramirez stands beside me. I glance at the huge captain as he glares down the ice at our Assistant Coach.
“Let her go!” Raider says loud and clear.
I wonder if Wesley is aware of all the bikers currently circling the rink. I wonder if he knows he’s not leaving here alive.
I lift my stick and slap it down on the ice. My stick is my sword, and the ice is my battlefield.