Page 16 of Iced Out
And for the first time in a long time, I felt something shift inside me—an unease that had nothing to do with her and everything to do with what I couldn’t see coming. Because this wasn’t just about us. It was about something bigger.
A conversation from the night before echoed in my skull. I’d just gotten home from the arena. Gear slung over my shoulder. I was headed upstairs when I paused outside Dad’s office. The door wasn’t shut all the way. Mom’s voice—brittle, clipped—cut through the quiet.
“Lorne said it was handled. That nothing would trace back to us.”
A pause. Then Dad: “It better not. If that audit gets reopened?—”
“It was a mistake,” Mom snapped. “You trusted him too much.”
“We didn’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice. You just don’t like the ones that cost you.”
Silence hung heavy before Mom’s voice turned acerbic. “Adriana Callahan is back. Darren’s girl. Maybe this time something can be done about what she took.”
I stepped back, heart hammering. Darren Langley’s girl. Mila’s mom. And that meant Mila would also be in the crosshairs of whatever disaster was coming.
Her mom had worked for us. Or maybewithus. Hard to tell with people like my father. Whatever role she’d played, she’d left under a cloud. And suddenly, Mila wasn’t just a ghost from my past. She was a threat.
I snapped back to the present. Mila’s too-observant eyes glued to the emotions probably visible in mine. Fuck. I needed to get the hell out of there. She would be in all my classes starting today, but I needed to think, and I wasn’t going to be able to do that here. So, I left—pushed open the school’s main door, walked outside, and got in my SUV.
I went to the one place that was mine—the arena, and I hit the ice. I skated until my lungs burned and my body screamed for oxygen. Until I couldn’t tell the difference between rage and panic. Every slap of the puck into the net was a shout I didn’t let out. Every rotation a countdown to detonation.
Mila didn’t know what she was stepping into. But I did. Her mom was already marked. And if she kept digging, she’d end up a casualty. Not because she was guilty. Because people in power didn’t like questions. And I couldn’t save her. Not if she didn’t want to be saved.
I finished up, stepped out of the rink and into the locker room. Practice wasn’t for a few hours. It was lunch, and I was debating whether to finish out the school day or just go home.
The echo of my footsteps was the only sound. I should’ve let it go with Mila earlier. Walked away. She was always so damn good at getting under my skin—knowing exactly which nerve to press like it was hers to own.
I pulled off my jersey, trying to let the burn in my lungs quiet the fire in my chest. But it didn’t work. Not when the memory of her lingered—those captivating eyes, that unwavering stare, thedefiance that used to come with a laugh and my mouth on hers in the backseat of my SUV. Back when we still believed we could outrun everything that chased us.
And then she walked into the locker room.
I blinked, thinking I’d imagined her. But there she was—Mila. Just inside the door, a bold line of tension held in her frame like she dared me to tell her to leave.
“Locker rooms are off-limits.” I dragged the towel over my head. “Even for girls who think they’re invincible.”
She folded her arms. “They didn’t use to be. Not with us.”
I turned toward her, jaw tight even as a dozen images bombarded me of us together in this locker room. Her soft skin against mine. Her breathy moan haunting me until I wanted to throw something. “They are now. You keep throwing yourself into places you don’t belong.”
“Funny. I was about to say the same to you.”
Silence stretched between us.
“Why now?” I asked finally, voice low. “Why come back?”
She hesitated. And that hesitation said more than any lie ever could. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Bullshit. You always had a choice. You just didn’t pick me.”
She flinched, the movement almost too small to catch. Her swallow was audible.
“You think I wanted to leave?” she whispered.
I stepped closer. “You didn’t even say goodbye.”
“Because I couldn’t.”
