Page 145 of Wrong Pucking Player

“If you think Mackenzie Andrews is scared of me, you really don’t know the woman you say you love.” I look away. “I’m not going to keep helping you, Cyrus Jr. Either fix what you have with Kenzie or stop getting in my way.”

“Y-You said you’d share!”

God, the way I laugh should be used in every sinister movie because it’s haunting to my ears.

“I only share what’s mine with those worthy of its divine fruit,” I warn and honestly feel like my brother as I slip my hands into my pockets to hide how they clench with impatience. “You’re not worthy to date Kenzie, Cyrus. So, until you man up, I’m going to show you how a real man treats his Sweet Princess.”

I turn away.

“And make her into my queen.”

My mind is already moving, narrowing down where Kenzie can be. By the time I’m out of this building and in front of my bike, I realize Leo followed me the whole way.

“What?”

“You want me to get Katherine?”

I debate about it.

“Is she awake?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Leo mutters. I glance at him to see him roll his eyes, but more importantly, I see that switch in his demeanor now that we’re away from everyone else.

“You’re actually mad.”

“Mack doesn’t deserve this shit,” he grumbles. “If she’s able to accept Cathy and hasn’t told a damn soul since she found out the truth, she wouldn’t be frightened of you. Of our organization and what we do. In fact, knowing her, she’d protect your ass.”

I grab my helmet and latch it on.

“I know.” Yet, I’m scared shitless to tell her.“Be on standby. I’m going to check her place.”

“I tried calling her phone, but it’s engaged.”

“Because I have it,” I grumble. “She has mine.”

“You let her use your phone?”

He seems flabbergasted at that news.

“With Kenzie, I have nothing to hide.”

“We’ll be nearby,” Leo declares. “You find her, and she’s hurt, you call us.”

“Got it.”With that, I’m on my bike, ramping it up and blaring out of the garage faster than I can think.

Daring to pull out Kenzie’s phone, I notice the little gold star next to my name on the caller log.

She put me as her favorite.

This woman.

Calling her phone, I don’t expect her to pick up.

Yet I keep calling.

Over and over again… until the receiving end stops ringing.

“Kenzie?” I speak over the roaring sound of my bike. There’s no reply, making me wonder if my phone malfunctioned or some shit. There’s a tapping sound, making me critically think before something comes to my mind. “Mittens?”

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