Page 135 of Break The Ice

“Where’s Raider?”

“Where’s Raider?” His voice is high and mocking.

I shudder and ease back on my heel, putting a tiny bit of space between us. If I scream, I’m sure no one will hear me.

“Who are you?” I demand.

“Who are you?”

I’m starting to sweat, and all I can see is him. It’s my stalker. I know it’s him, deep in my gut. Still, his identity is hidden.

Why does he alone have the power to reduce me to this level of fear? I yank on my wrist. He holds it for a long moment and then lets go. I take several steps back. My mouth is dry, and I’ve got the shakes. I don’t want to die, but I’d rather die than be with him.

He giggles. It’s a manic, high-pitched, terrifying giggle that turns my even breathing choppy.

I know without a doubt that this is the person who has made my life a nightmare and that this is his end game. Either I go with him and disappear or I will die.

“It’s ironic that I always have to face you alone. No one believes that you exist.”

He turns his head, looking over his shoulder. That demon mask sinisterly smiling at me with sick glee.

“I’ve wanted so badly to have this conversation with you,” he says just loud enough that I can hear it. “You were meant to be mine.”

He whirls, advancing suddenly, but I step back, struggling to keep my balance as panic drives me into a poor attempt at fleeing.

“Who are you?” I shriek. My voice echoes around the tunnel of the stadium.

He grabs my shoulder and stops my backward motion. Those fingers dig in deep, hurting me and holding me still.

“You’re coming with me tonight, Ryann. We’re going to be together forever.”

“No!” I whimper.

He chuckles and brushes his fingers down my cheek. I turn my head to the left to avoid his touch and spot the fire alarm.

I see my pack then, sitting on the lounge watching hockey, drinking beers and murmuring. Raider has a hand on my thigh. Wren is leaning back with Callan against his chest.Kit is curled up on my right. This is happiness and family. I make a decision on the spot to fight, shoving him back, ducking under his hold, and breaking the glass. I pull the alarm before he can guess what I’m going to do.

He hisses, dragging me away.

I glare up at him. “Break the fucking ice.”

He curses, but it’s too late. I can hear the thunder of thousands of people rushing to the exits. In seconds, we’re surrounded. I attack immediately, shoving my elbow into his stomach and stomping his foot.

He releases me, and I run.

It’s so easy to disappear into the crowd, but I can’t let them take me out. I need to find my pack. I fight my way through, angling for the team rooms. Elbows slam into me, and I’m shoved back again and again, but I keep going, determined to get to my Raider.

I run down the corridor that’s already deserted and open door after door. Where is he? I can’t find him. I can’t find anyone. The sirens scream so loud I can barely hear my own thoughts. I glance up, checking, and, yes, these are the team’s rooms.

I race through a state-of-the-art kitchen that morphs into a massive lounge with a pool table and lots of couches.

I ignore it all. The silence is oppressive, and my footsteps are loud. I go down another hallway and through more open doors. I glance at the massive weights room and ignore it. There’s a room with super comfy-looking chairs and a huge screen up at one end. I ignore that one and keep going.

Is he even here?

“Ryann?”

I whip my head around and spot movement. I duck into the first room I can find and discover the locker room I was in the last time I came here. The almost circle of lockers is void of their gear and sweaters. The players haven’t come back yet.

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