Page 146 of Break The Ice

There are twenty-two players on the ice with weapons that can break bones, and they are directing all their rage at him. I would be scared if I were him. The fact that they are moving as one, anticipating each other, helping each other, is more frightening. Raider isn’t moving as quick, but he’s there, too, being protected and buoyed by the others.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

I look to the sides and see a man in leather who looks exactly like Raider. He slams his hands on the boards with each crack of the sticks. No, not just him, more than him. I look around and find the ice ringed with leather-wearing bikers.

A laughing sob escapes me.

Kelly really came through. If I survive this, I’m going to make it my life’s mission to get Kelly and Raider talking again.

Wesley spits a curse and drags out a big hunting knife that immediately has me rolling my eyes because, obviously, someone is compensating.

My fear has sunk into a distant part of me because they are here. They came for me. I can’t stop staring at them, even though I know I need to focus on Wesley.

He presses the edge of the blade to my neck, and I drag my eyes from the team and focus on him. The knife bites into my skin, and I feel a trickle of warmth run down my neck.

“You’re mine, now and forever. Tell them to get back or I’ll end it here on the ice you have yearned for.”

It is so horrific that he knows me as well as he does. It’s invasive and deeply threatening. I’m sick of him and sick of living like this.

I look back at them, and I shake my head. They won’t go, and I won’t tell them to.

“You’re going to refuse? We’re going to make our stand here on the ice, then? You and I forever?”

I freeze as the blade bites into my throat. More blood runs, but I ignore it.

“LIFT THAT KNIFE OFF THE BETA!” Callan roars.

The power of the bark hits into us, and Wesley instantly tenses, attempting to fight it but unable to resist.

How strong is Callan’s bark? I’ve never seen anyone bark at a distance before, I didn’t even know it was possible.

Focus, Ryann.

I just need a moment.

“Wesley, did you ever have a moment when you thought, hmm, maybe I should stop?”

“No, not once in all these years. We have a blessed future ahead of us in this world or the next,” he murmurs and nuzzles my face.

I feel sick, but I don’t allow myself to react at all. His arms around me tighten, dragging me closer. The knife drags against my waist absently, and I let out a cry that is mostly feigned.

He lifts it. I turn my face towards his, staring at his thin lips.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

Confusion crosses his face.

“I’ve never had anyone care enough about me to get to know me so well, and you have proven your dedication. Maybe I was confused?”

He dips his lips, but I twist and punch my knee up. I don’t get him in the groin but the inner thigh with enough force that he staggers back, slipping on the ice and falls.

Unfortunately for me, he catches the goal posts. I take a step and fall. Twenty-two hockey players are sprinting towards us, but they might not be fast enough.

He lunges, throwing himself at me. I spin, kicking out and frantically army crawling away from him.

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