Page 33 of The Pucks We Freeze
“I’m dead serious.” I met each of their gazes, letting it sink in. “I swept it up and backed the truck into the garage before anyone saw. But make no mistake, this was no accident. They knew where I’d be to hit me.”
Talon finally looked up, his expression hardening as he locked eyes with me. “They’re escalating now.”
Owen leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Think it was Gavin?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Could be. But I don’t think he has the balls to pull some shit like this. He might be tangled up in it, yeah, but someone else is pulling the strings. And now they’re letting me know they’re watching.”
Rowdy shook his head slowly. “So what, you think they’re trying to intimidate you? Mark their territory with a damn puck like it’s a calling card?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s not just intimidation. It’s a warning. I must be getting close to something they don’t want exposed. Maybe they’re trying to shut me up.”
Talon cursed under his breath and pushed back from the table. He paced the kitchen once before stopping by the window, peeking out like he expected someone to be watching from the trees. “We were careful. No texts. No paper trail. But someone’s still keeping tabs.”
“I’ve been keeping records,” I said, lowering my voice. “Every off-play, every weird injury, every stat that doesn’t add up. There’s a pattern, and it’s not just one guy. It’s as if someone is playing puppet master behind the scenes. Last year, someone reported me for placing bets. Almost cost me my scholarship.”
Owen’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I couldn’t prove it. Coach helped smooth it over, but it left a mark. I started digging after that, tracking everything I could without tipping them off. I thought I had time.”
Rowdy let out a slow breath. “We’re out of time, man.”
I nodded. “That’s why tonight, we ice Gavin out. He doesn’t touch the puck unless necessary. No plays go through him. We cover his ass if we have to, but we don’t give him a chance to wreck our shot at the Frozen Four.”
“That's risky,” Rowdy muttered, rubbing his temples.
“It’s necessary,” Talon snapped, turning from the window. “He’s a liability. Whether he’s being blackmailed, paid off, or just playing dumb, we can’t count on him. Not with everything we’ve worked for on the line.”
Owen folded his arms, eyes darting between us. “So what’s the endgame? We freeze him out, win tonight, then what? Go to Coach?”
“Eventually,” I said. “Not until we know exactly who’s involved, though, and how deep this goes.”
“Reed, my sister’s boyfriend, is helping us. He’s pulling what tech he can to trace the betting profiles. We’ve got a few leads. But until then, we play smart. No drama. No fights. Just clean, calculated hockey.”
The room went quiet. Tense. Heavy.
Talon never mentioned that he knew someone was placing bets as me.
Rowdy finally broke it, voice low. “This used to be just a game.”
“Not anymore,” I said, glancing at each of them. “This is about protecting each other. Our careers. Our futures.”
Talon gave a slow nod. “This is war.”
The room fell quiet again, but it wasn’t empty. It pulsed with something unspoken. The kind of tension that coils in your chest and doesn’t let go.
Rowdy cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp in the stillness. Talon nodded once, his jaw set like stone. Owen met my gaze and gave the slightest tilt of his head, signaling he was ready.
No matter how clean we played it on the ice, off the ice was a whole different arena. And the puck had already dropped.
As for me? I didn’t flinch.
Let the storm come.
We were already in it.
Chapter Eleven
Willow
