Page 121 of Brutal Obsession

Anger surges through me.

It’s the confirmation I need.

I march toward him and stop dead. His leg is in a cast, with crutches leaning on the table beside him. He’s pointedly ignoring me at this point, and so are his friends. Although I doubt his friends have even seen me, since I’m still far enough away to not impose. And Jack isn’t giving them any clues that he’s uncomfortable.

Butsomethinghappened… and I have a feeling I know who might be behind this. The one person with little regard for anyone else. Or the law. And he’s possessive enough to strike out at Jack if he somehow knew…

I spin on my heel and get the fuck out of there.

Once I’m away from the student center, I fish out my phone.

Me

What time does practice start?

I wait a moment, then bubbles pop up on the chat.

Steele

Six. Why?

I don’t answer. It’s almost six now, which means there’s a very real chance I could catch Grey before then. I tug the zipper of my jacket higher, burying my chin in it, and hurry to the stadium.

My exposed skin is frozen by the time I make it there. Once inside, I unzip the jacket and rub my hands together. I peer through one of the entrances to the stadium seating.

Jackpot. Only a few people are on the ice, wearing pads and sticks in hand. I hurry to the lower level and watch again, making sure one of them is Greyson. It sickens me that I know him just by the way he moves and the back of his head. The way he skates.

Ah, well.

No time like the present. Except, more people are filing onto the ice from one of the open doors. More players. They skate around, and one of them cocks his head when he sees me.

Still. I step out onto the ice. I’m on a mission, and I feel unstoppable. Unlike the last time Greyson had me on ice, I don’t let fear keep me away.

“Hey,” someone barks. “You can’t be out here.”

I ignore them and head straight for Greyson. He turns and watches me approach. Of course he doesn’t try to get closer, to help me out. No, he just eyes me from behind his mask with a gleam in his eye.

Answers. I’m here foranswers.

So when I stop right in front of him and poke his chest, I’m surprised when no words come out.

I hit his chest again, harder.

He just stands there, taller than he should be in his skates.

A lump forms in my throat, and I hit him again. It doesn’t make me feel any better.

Why can I voice what I remember to Willow but not here?

“Violet,” Greyson says in a low voice. “If you came here just to hit me… you could’ve waited.”

“You’re an asshole,” I choke out. The words are shreds of glass moving through my throat. I stagger backward.

He raises an eyebrow. “Okay.”

“You’re fucking with my head. You don’t have any idea what I’ve been through. And then last night—”

He glides forward. Right into my space. He rips his helmet off and leans down, so we’re eye to eye. “Nothing happened last night.”

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