Page 26 of Hot for the Hockey Player
His half-smile was forced and entirely unreal before he spun around and headed to the laundry room.
Shutting my eyes, I inhaled and held it in my lungs for a count of six, before slowly letting it out past thinly parted lips.I did this three more times, until my hands no longer shook, and I wasn’t seeing spots in my vision.Then I grabbed my phone from the pocket of the shorts Raina had loaned me, and sent off a group text to my cousins.
Mayday!Mayday!Damon found Cyrus online and had questions.
Raina was the first to text back.
Wine tonight after the kids are in bed.
Then Danica.
Well, shit.I thought we had more time.
And finally, Naomi.
What prompted him to go looking?
(Me)
Shit that happened with Marco getting kidnapped.News has mentioned the cult.
(Raina)
We need to get ahead of this thing.
We do.
Was all I could type before I stuffed my phone into my pocket again and stood up to go help Laurel with the rest of dinner.
I needed to focus on my kids right now.My cousins and I would tackle our past later.I thought I’d done a decent enough job burying everything, changing our last name, and getting away from that entire horrible part of our lives.But like Damon said, the internet and everything on it is evergreen.So the only thing to do was burn the fucker down, because chopping off its limbs clearly didn’t work.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Maverick
ThenextdaywasThursday, and day one of my physiotherapy with the very famous Rolph “Maz” Mazurenko.After that, I had a pottery class with Hugh Tapper, where he said he’d teach me how to use my hands for something besides throwing punches on the ice.I guess he knew who I was.
After a hearty breakfast of eggs from Rolph’s farm stand—Hugh told me where to get them—and some delicious cheddar cheese made by a bouquet of beautiful cows, I climbed into my truck and headed off to go meet Rolph Mazurenko.
Unger Wellness was located across the street from the Town Center Grocery Store.Even though I’d only been to the vineyard twice, it was already muscle memory apparently, because I had to quickly correct myself and crank the steering wheel hard to the left so I didn’t head down the road toward the winery.Damon and his thunderous mood yesterday were certainly on my mind last night, and I considered reaching out to him again, but decided I needed to give the kid some space.
There was only one other vehicle—a big pickup truck, bigger than mine—parked in the parking lot.I recognized it vaguely, but there were a lot of trucks on the island so I didn’t give it too much thought.
Yanking open the door, a gentle bell overhead greeted me, followed by a friendly smile from the woman behind the reception desk.“Be right with you,” she said.
“No worries.”I took a seat in one of the six reception chairs, bringing out my phone.A toilet flushed somewhere nearby, and a moment later, a door squeaked open.
“Hey, I know you,” said a deep, raspy voice.
I plastered on the smile I reserved for fans and lifted my gaze from my screen, only to come face-to-face with Jagger McEvoy, one of the owners of the pub and cabins I was staying in.He was at the bar last night, playfully giving Logan the gears as I sat at the bar—again—eating nachos for dinner and enjoying a Caesar, which was apparently the Canadian version of a Bloody Mary.
Jagger walked with a cane and had a significant limp as he approached me and held out his free hand.“How’s it going, man?”He didn’t move from his spot at the bar last night, so I didn’t know his situation.Should I have asked?
I shook his hand.“Just here to fix my back.They say Maz is a wizard.”
“They’re all wizards, witches, and fae here the way they wield their magical hands.”He took a seat next to me.“Took the beating of a lifetime a couple of months ago.Guy shattered my kneecap, broke a bunch of bones in my face, tore my spleen.So I’m here for all the magical spells.PT, acupuncture, massage.Anything to help me get rid of this cane.”
“You fight?”I asked.
