Page 47 of Devil on Skates
I search for Irina in the stands. This time, I’m not dedicating a goal to her, but I want her to see what she’s left behind. Her face seems expressionless, but then she briefly grimaces. Keith doesn’t look happy next to her, his eyes narrowed.
By the third period, my team’s comfortably ahead. I’m killing it. Two goals and an assist, and I’m sure the scouts finally have the right image of me.
Still, I can’t stop thinking about Irina. Every break, my eyes drift back to her and Keith. At one point, I think I see him hold his hand over her arm, and it makes my jaw clench. Whatever happened, her sitting there with him feels like a betrayal, like she’s part of the whole show.
When the final buzzer sounds, we celebrate the win, but I don’t move right away. Irina and Keith stay put in their seats, as if they’re waiting for something more than just the game to end. Maybe Irina’s here to see her dad, or they just don’t want to mingle with the crowd.
As the crowd clears, they finally get up and head out, but there’s a weird tension between them. Irina’s shoulders are definitely tense, but she doesn’t look my way.
I rush to the locker room, and after getting a quick shower and changing, I look around the arena, just in case they stayed to talk to Coach. Hiding behind a wall, I see Irina heading toward the restrooms alone.
Without really thinking about it, I follow her. She slips into the women’s room, and I enter after her.
When she looks up at the mirror in front of her and sees me behind her, her eyes go wide.
“Xavier,” she whispers, spinning around. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Apparently not,” I say, clenching my jaw. “Congrats on getting back with Keith. You two make quite the power couple.”
There are darkish circles under her eyes, something like fear flashing in them. She glances over my shoulder at the hallway as if she wants to run.
“Please, just go,” she says, her voice tight. “This isn’t—”
She shifts, tugging at her sleeve, and I catch sight of bruises. There are fingerprint-shaped marks on her wrist where Keith was touching her during the game. My blood boils.
“Who did this to you?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“It’s nothing,” she says too fast, trying to cover her arm. “I bumped into—”
“Don’t lie to me.” I step closer. “Who?”
She won’t meet my eyes, her hands trembling slightly.
“It was him, wasn’t it?” I say, even more sure than before. “Keith.”
She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t have to. One look into her glassy eyes, and I know the answer.
I start to turn away, but her hand grabs my arm.
“Don’t,” she says, her eyes desperate. “If you confront him, it’ll ruin everything.”
“I don’t care,” I say. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“You don’t get it,” she whispers, looking at the door as if she’s afraid someone might overhear us. “It’ll ruin your career. That’s why I made a deal with Keith’s dad. Neither you nor Keith is supposed to know anything about it! Just leave.”
My jaw goes slack. “Deal with his dad?”
Tears fill her eyes. “Noel Costello came to me after your fight with that guy on the ice. He offered money for me and a pro contract for you. All I had to do was stay away from you and go back to Keith and never tell anyone, especially you. If I refused, he said he would make sure you never played hockey again.”
Suddenly, everything makes sense. Her disappearance and her silence weren’t a rejection meant to rip my heart out, or well, it wasn’t her idea but Noel’s. She gave up everything to protect my dream. I stare at her in shock, because this changes everything.
“His dad blackmailed you into dating his son?” I say, anger already coursing through my veins.
She nods, and I pull her close, careful not to hurt her anymore and holding her like I never want to let go as she trembles in my arms.
“I’ll fix this,” I promise, wiping away her tears. “It all ends now.”
“But your career,” she says, worry creasing her forehead. “The Costellos can actually take away hockey from you. They’re that powerful, trust me.”
