Page 24 of Blindside Sinner

Finally, she nods and looks away like she found it. Only then do I feel like I can breathe again.

“Beck’s a miserable bastard, so I’m not surprised he tried to do something stupid like party before a game. It’s his version of pouting.”

The urge to defend Beck is just as swift as my urge to throttle myself.The man is actively trying to get you fired, Sloan. Don’t defend him.I reason that it’s just because I don’t like bullies andthe more time I spend with Vivian, I can see that she has the makings of a brutal one.

“Luckily for you, the party wasn’t all that bad,” she continues. “There were no hookers, no blow, no trashed cars, and everyone on the team made it to check-in on time today. So no harm, no foul. Just keep him under control like that and you’re good to go.”

I’m not exactly sure how Vivian wants me to stop Beck from throwing a drug-fueled, sex-worker-attended rager in his own house, but I have a feeling it’s up to me to figure it out. Lovely.

“Sounds good.”

“Don’t look so concerned, Sloan. Something tells me you’ll be just fine once you get your bearings.”

I debate asking her more, but then the announcer’s voice echoes through the arena, signaling the start of introductions.

“And that’s my cue. Enjoy the game,” Vivian says, standing and sliding out of our row at the end of the aisle. “Enjoy the game and remember the rules.”

Right.Don’t fuck Beck.No sex for either of us. Those kinds of rules.

Vivian is gone before I even think to keep an eye on her exit. Anticipation makes my body tingle at the announcer’s voice booming across the ice.

The lights dim as he roars, “It’s time for your Seattle Waaave!”

The team pours onto the ice like a stampede. Even without Beck’s name on the back of his jersey, I’d be able to pick him out. Without the skates and pads, he’s built like a truck, so withthem, he’s an absolute monster. Easily taller than almost all of his teammates, his shoulders broader.

But more than that, he’s got this presence, almost an aura, that grabs my attention and holds it, refuses to let me look away.

The announcer reads through most of the players and the crowd roars as their favorites are called. The people behind me jump, sloshing drinks onto the floor and popcorn everywhere. The energy in the arena is enough to make my skin crawl in the best way, like I’m holding onto a live wire.

“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Let’s meet tonight’s starting lineup! You know them as the Riptide of Ruckus. The Men of Mayhem. The Captains of Chaos. Seattle, make some noise for your Final Five! At right wing, number twenty, Adrian LaDuke!”

The crowd’s guttural chant of Adrian’s last name sounds a lot different on TV than it does in person. It’s lower, deeper. On TV, it sounds almost like a booing noise. Here, it’s like thunder. Like the earth tearing itself apart.

LaDuuuuuuuuuuke.I feel it in my bones.

LaDuke skates along the Wave blueline, touching gloves with the players already in place for the National Anthem. When he finally stops in his place, he dances back and forth from one skate to the other, stick in front of him, waiting for the others to be called,

I’ve been to hockey games before, but this is nuts. The crowd noise is insanity.

“Left wing, number seventeen, Dixon ‘The Haymaker’ Hayes!” He draws out Hayes’s name like it has six syllables, as Hayesskates past his teammates on the line, bumping gloves. Music pumps in the background, but the fans are louder.

“On defense, number fifty-five, Colin O’Leary!” Colin is wearing an easy grin under his helmet as he glides over to take up his position. He’s a bloodstained weapon and the puck hasn’t even dropped yet.

“Also on defense, number fifty-three, Nico Federov!” The crowd on the lower level bangs against the boards surrounding the ice, chanting,Ni-co, Ni-co, Ni-co.He assumes his place on the blueline just to the right side of the center circle.

“And at center, number ten, Beckett Daniels!”

Beck skates into his position with nothing but a cocky smirk on his face, stopping with a spray of ice?—

And just like that, the crowd absolutely fucking loses it.

If I thought they were wild before, this is bigger. The walls quiver and the ground vibrates with the force of thousands of voices and stomping feet. They’re all cheering for the Seattle Wave, for their team, for their city.

But most of all, forhim.

Hometown pride surges in my chest. I lend my voice to the crowd, cheering and hooting like I haven’t in years. The arena is pure bedlam and I can’t help but laugh.

It’s the best time I’ve had in years.

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