Page 44 of Iced Out
That was what I’d already planned to do, and vocalized enough.
“Too messy,” Chase countered. “That’s what Elise wants—make Mila look like the drama.”
I studied Chase. He wasn’t concerned for Mila—it was his sister. He was worried Avery would be a target. Or worse, collateral damage. We would never let that happen. Especially Jax. Whoever had hurt Avery last year left scars we all carried. Chase most of all. Avery had been a shell back then, and her brother never forgot it.
“We’re already in it,” I said. “Might as well stop pretending we’re not.”
Theo crossed his arms. “Tori said Elise’s been asking around about Mila’s old schools. Trying to dig something up.”
“Let her,” I said. “There’s nothing there.” The words came out easy, automatic. But memory flickered—Mila in calculus, head bent, sketching in the margin of her notes instead of listening. Not doodles. Real drawings. Beautiful, precise, and alive. I’d caught myself staring longer than I should have. Elise could dig all she wanted. The girl she was looking for—the one she thought Mila had to be—wasn’t who I’d seen in those lines.
Chase shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Truth isn’t what she cares about—it’s the story she can spin.”
I didn’t respond. He was right. Elise never needed facts. Just an audience.
Jax leaned back, kicking his feet up. “We’ve been letting this ride too long. Time to turn the game on them.”
Theo looked at me. “You’re the captain. You make the call.”
Silence stretched. The kind that presses on your ribs and makes you feel as though you're about to drown. I ran a hand through my hair. “We need to be smart. Logan’s stupid enough to mess up on his own—we just need to give him enough rope.”
Chase raised an eyebrow. “You want to bait him?”
“Not bait,” I said. “Just… give him an opportunity to reveal himself.”
Jax grinned. “Now that’s the Luke I know.”
“Keep it quiet. Subtle,” I added. “As for Elise, we let her think she’s ahead. That’s when she’ll get sloppy.”
Theo cracked his knuckles. “Tori hears anything, I’ll know.”
“And if Logan makes another move?” Chase asked.
I didn’t hesitate. “Then I break his fucking face.”
The others nodded. Our mutual understanding was forged through years of blood, blades, and silent loyalty.
As we grabbed our gear and headed toward the exit, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Drew.
Family dinner. Tomorrow. Don’t bail this time.
My jaw locked. Another performance in the empire they pretended was a family. My parents didn’t play house—they ran it as a joint operation, cold and calculated. Love never factored into the equation. Power did. Image did.
I didn’t respond to Drew’s message.
As we stepped out into the crisp evening air, I glanced toward the rink—empty now, lights off, but still charged with memory. I told myself this wasn’t really about Mila. That I was just protecting the team. Keeping the power where it belonged—with us. That Elise and Logan were problems I needed to solve. But even I didn’t believe that anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
MILA
The restaurant buzzed with weekend noise—ice rattling in plastic cups, bursts of laughter, music pouring from the speakers like static. This was the place to be seen. And I hated that I agreed to come.
Avery waved me over from the corner booth, already halfway through her milkshake. Jasmine leaned back in the vinyl seat, her phone glowing. Margie walked over to the booth with a cheeseburger and fries in a red basket lined with checkered paper. She slid in, and they resumed their conversation. They looked relaxed. Normal.
I slid in beside them, faking the ease I didn’t feel.
The booth smelled like salt and grease, ketchup packets sticking to the Formica. Their chatter blurred into the background noise. My eyes snagged on the paper placemat beneath my drink. A doodle had already bled across the corner—some other restless hand leaving swirls and lines.
