Page 157 of Triple Pucked
I straighten one of the paperclips and turn the other into an L shape as a tension wrench.
Then I focus on picking the lock.
Heine hisses out a shocked breath. “You’re mad.”
I ignore him.
Why do people keep saying that?
I’m the one who is helping him to escape.
I am making sure that Blythe will never have the chance to use me against either my twin or the best people who I have met, D’Angelo and Robyn.
I narrow my eyes, patiently setting all the pins.
“She’s going to come back,” Heine whispers, pacing. “We’re dead. We’re dead. We’re…”
The lock clicks, and the door opens.
“You did it.” Heine’s hand closes on my shoulder. He drags me up in excitement. “Shit, shit, I didn’t think that you actually would. But wait, I can’t just go. Mistress has control of my finances. Passwords. You don’t understand, she took photos of me in every kind of compromising, humiliating position that you can imagine. Filmed me. She’ll release everything if I disobey and leave. She has them on Shay as well. She’ll destroy his life.”
“I know.” I turn back to the table, snatching up my lighter.
Then I turn on the gas stove, listening to the hiss and wrinkling my nose at the sulfuric scent of the gas as it starts to spread through the kitchen.
Heine’s eyes widen. “What are you doing?”
I stalk to Heine, grabbing him firmly by the shoulder. I pull him out of the back door into the pale light of dawn.
“Burning down hell with the devil in it.” I flick on the wavering flame of my lighter, before tossing it behind me into the kitchen.
The explosion roars with the cleansing flames of retribution.
Setting the fire is as gratifying as I always knew it would be. Burning Blythe is even more of a rush.
She will never hurt anyone again.
My brother is finally free.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Rebel Arena,Freedom
Robyn
I didn’t knowthaton theedge of your seatwas literally a thing, until I’m sitting quite literally on the edge of my seat watching the shootout this Saturday night in Rebel Arena.
The lights are bright. The air is cold and biting. And the pressure is high.
I am bundled up warmly in a pea-green woolen coat over my long purple dress. My hands, which are covered in fluffy gloves, are stuffed in my coat pockets against the chill. I burrow my nose in Eden’s gray scarf, which is wound around my neck, taking a deep sniff of his delicious vanilla scent.
I perch, stiff with nerves and excitement, watching the players of both the Bay Rebels and the Colorado Avalanche, the Avs, huddling together on the ice.
The Bay Rebels have tied.
What the press are surprised about is that the Bay Rebels have managed to tie, since the Avs are one of the favorites to win the Stanley Cup.
D’Angelo, Shay, and the rest of the team have played like fucking gods to hold them to a tie.
