Page 78 of Sporting Goods

My eyes shot to a kid in the arena, gunning toward the players box. A kid I knew.

“Daddy.” I watched Jax—my Jax, lurch himself at an open armed player who embraced him.

Max.

My breathing stopped first, then the bile rose in my throat.

Impossible.

My head followed a familiar voice from the back.

Rayne.

Rayne raced in calling after Jax, who’d apparently taken off ahead of her. Her movements were tentative and tense when she approached Withers. He stood slowly, his lip turning up.

My heart raced watching them come together. Her eyes were empty but she leaned into Max who tugged her against his chest. Tightness pulled in my gut, in my arm, hell it was everywhere.

My helmeted head dropped. My vision was blurred. How was the ice blurry?

“Logan.” The call was hazy coming from somewhere around me.

I looked up again, desperate to see anything but red.

But only saw her again.

What felt slower than it probably was, Rayne’s head turned in my direction. A few of her silky locks drew back just before her eyes flashed and she paled.

I turned back to Josh, who had his arms up in the air. He mouthed my name. Or maybe he called it, but I couldn’t hear. Someone passed the puck. On instinct, I caught it, drew my stick back with everything I had and shot it, slamming it hard against the net.

I dropped the stick and it clattered to the ice. I removed my helmet and dropped it next to it. My head spun and I felt sick. I skated to exit the rink, which was unfortunately a few feet from the family I wanted nothing to do with.

Josh skidded to a stop in front of me. “Dude. Tell me you knew.”

I lifted my head and glared at him. “Get out of my way,” I seethed.

“Logan,” he called. But I kept going.

My name caught the attention of one seven-year-old and his face lit when he found me.

“Logan. Mom, look, Logan is here.” His cheerful, expectant, hopeful voice stopped me in my tracks.

I turned to find him running toward me, so fast I wanted to meet him halfway so he wouldn’t fall. I didn’t bend to greet him. I looked down at him and put my hand on his shoulder. Ignoring Rayne’s pained, frozen expression at a glance.

“Hey buddy, I gotta get going. You take care, okay?”

“Logan,” her voice was soft, almost pleading but I ignored it.

Straightening, I went to move past her, but she touched my arm, making me meet her eyes.

“Ray,” a harsh growl from Withers came from behind.

She ignored it. Her lips moved but no words came out. She looked exhausted and emotionally drained.

I kept my voice low, ensuring Jax wouldn’t hear. “You’re being summoned. Now get your hands off me,” my tone was cold enough to make her flinch back.

I made my way back to the lockers to change and got the hell out of that building. Dodging Roger, Josh and God knew who else. I still couldn’t see straight.

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