Page 103 of On Ice

I lean out what’s left of my window and fire, aiming at the black SUV that’s now pulling alongside us. My hands are shaking with adrenalin, but I manage to get off three shots. I do my best to make them controlled. Spaced. Effective. The vehicle beside us slows as their side window spiderwebs.

Danny takes another hard turn, throwing me against the door. “We need to get off the road,” I say, harshly. “There’s theMartelli warehouse two blocks east. We could take cover there. That would give us time for Vito and some men to arrive.”

“You got it, boss.” Danny nods in understanding.

“I’ll text Vito the plan.” Marco’s jaw is clenched as he taps on his phone rapidly. “He’s on his way.”

Danny cuts across an empty lot, buying us time as our pursuers adjust. Air whips through the shattered window as we speed down a narrow access road, and we’re jostled around the back of the car.

A burst of automatic fire rakes the back of our vehicle. The bulletproof panels absorb most of it, but the rear window cracks. Marco returns fire through his side window, more to force them to keep their heads down than with any real hope of hitting them at this speed.

“Almost there,” Danny says through gritted teeth.

We round a corner, the Martelli warehouse ahead. It’s a hulking concrete structure bathed in harsh daylight. Its loading bay doors are closed, but there’s a side entrance with a keypad. If we can reach it—

Another SUV roars out of nowhere from a side street on the right, ramming us broadside. The impact is deafening, metal screaming against metal as our vehicle spins. My head slams hard against the steel door frame, and I’m immediately dazed. There’s a ringing in my ears as warm blood gushes from my temple down my cheek and neck. I look down and watch the scarlet fluid soak into my white shirt, spreading out like oil in a hot pan. For some reason I think of Evan. I’m worried I’ll never see him again. The thought of that guts me.

My vision blurs. Marco’s got his arm around my shoulders and he’s shouting. I smell the sharp bite of spent propellant, and a ghost of oil and ozone. I can’t make sense of Marco’s words, and I can’t speak. My mouth just won’t move, no matter how hard I try. It’s like my off switch has been toggled. I need to help Marco and Danny, but I can’t lift my arms. The ringing in my ears is getting louder and louder. Little starbursts appear on the edge of my vision. I can’t seem to catch my breath, and then…

Nothing.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Evan

As hyped as I am to battle against the Toronto Strikers, the moment I step onto the ice at Scotiabank Arena, it feels like it’s going to be a rough night. Maybe I feel negative because the stands are a sea of blue and white, and not a friendly face among them. Even during warm-ups, the Toronto fans are relentless, banging on the glass when we skate past. Screaming insults.

I thought Canadians were supposed to be polite?

“Can’t you just feel the love?” Noah’s grin is wry as he glides up beside me to circle our half of the rink. “I haven’t felt this much animosity since I broke up with my ex-girlfriend.”

I grin, trying to push through my morose feelings. “Our away game crew is definitely sparse tonight.”

“I guess they can’t make every game.” His gaze is assessing. “You doing okay? You seem stressed.”

I squint at him. “You saying you’re not stressed? If so, I want some of what you’re taking.”

“Oh, I’m plenty stressed. You just seem extra tense.”

I blow out a harsh breath. “Just feeling a lot of pressure as captain.”

“It’s not all on you, dude. We have to hold our own, the whole team.”

“I know.” I focus on the weight of the puck as I handle it, trying to get a feel for the ice. It’s harder than our home surface, less forgiving. I hope that’s not some cosmic sign.

“You sure you’re not feeling stressed out by your thug of a boyfriend?” His tone is causal, but I know he’s fishing. “You haven’t said much about him lately.”

My face warms. “Actually, things are going pretty well with him right now. I don’t have much to complain about.”

“Oh, really?” he laughs, looking uncertain.

“Yeah.” It’s the truth. Luca and I have spent every night since the wedding together. He’s been sweet with me, which is weird and confusing, but also really nice. To be honest, I’m a little worried about how much I like him.

“You’re not actually into him though, right?” Noah looks as if that’s unthinkable.

“Nah.” I avoid his gaze. “All I’m focused on right now is getting into the playoffs.” I should have known Noah wouldn’t approve of Luca and I growing closer. He hates Luca, and he has lots of valid reasons why. I should probably hate Luca too.

But I don’t. Not anymore.

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