Page 26 of Skating Towards Danger

You can see the emotions clear as day. She still blames herself for the crash, and you can see she thinks she doesn’t deserve skating and doesn’t deserve to be happy. Unfortunately, if she ever finds out why they were crashed into, her guilt will eat her alive because it was technically to do with her.

As soon as the door slams shut, I remove my smirk, step out of Amy’s hold, and glare at her.

She flinches back and mutters, “Dante, why are you angry with me? I’m your woman, the mother of your unborn child, yet I haven’t heard from you in a week only to come here and find you watching some slut.”

My glare hardens. How in the fuck can she say that with such a straight fucking face when she knows that brat isn’t mine? If she wasn’t actually pregnant I would have slit her throat but I have bigger fish to fucking fry.

Amy turns on the crocodile tears and the need to slit her throat builds and I snap, “She skated on my fucking ice, and here you are trying to interrupt my training as well…fuck off, Amy!” before storming away, trying to keep my wits about me while ensuring she believes I’m pissed that someone skated on my fresh ice.

I don’t need her starting shit, especially not right now.

I quickly hide around the corner and look around to see Amy standing in the same spot, her face red. It takes her a few minutes but she screeches loudly and stomps her stiletto foot before stomping towards the exit. She slams the door behind her, and I sigh in relief.

I don’t need to fucking deal with her right now.

Licking my bottom lip, I crouch down and grab my blade from my boot while looking up at the top of the stands, the guy that was hiding behind the top seat is now making himself known.

The snake tattoo on his hand is a mark that all Cartel members have comes into view, and I grit my teeth.

Well, that didn’t fucking take long.

I noticed the fucker from the side door when I was watching Paige skate. He didn’t have a gun pointed at her, but he had a camera, one that he was currently quickly packing away.

I steady my breathing like my dad taught me and stay still, waiting for him to descend the stairs. As soon as I hear his footsteps, I eye between the metal barrier, and when I see his leg, I stab my knife into it hard.

The man gasps, holding in his scream. I quickly remove the knife from his flesh, causing him to gasp again before I quickly jump up and over the barrier then stab my knife into the side of his neck, my demon roaring inside of me, loving the sight of the fear that fills his dark eyes, the blood that pours from his neck.

“Should have stayed away from my girl,” I mutter, “Rot in hell fucker.”

I slice the knife through his neck before his body falls in a slump, his blood covering me.

“Ah fuck,” I groan, realizing what I just said, and I shake my head and mumble, “No, nope, not fucking happening.” before I grab my phone and bring my text thread up with Roman.

Me:

Cartel is at the rink, bring the cleaners.

I press send and take a seat, knowing he won’t be long, and grab the fucker’s camera and go through the photos. Some are of today, some from outside her work, and I sigh, taking the memory card out of it then throw the camera back in the bag and then I pat him down before I find his phone, pressing the button before the home screen loads.

“Unlocked, what a fucking idiot,” I mutter and go through the device, “So much for not getting more involved with the famiglia...”

Twenty minutes later, I’m gently kicking the guy in the face, not caring that his eyes are wide open trying to keep myself entertained when I hear, “Talk to me…,” and I look to my right to see Roman storming into the rink with our men behind him.

David looks at the guy at my feet and chuckles before he orders the men around and I state, “Pictures from today and at her work yesterday, but that’s it. His phone is clean, and he has no other device, so he hasn’t sent his confirmation to Houlis.”

Roman nods, and I stand, sneering at the dead body before looking back at Roman, who admits, “You pissed Paige off with the way you spoke to her, by the way,” I raise a brow, but he smirks, “She didn’t cash the check because she wanted to keep her father’s signature. I gave her a new one and let her know about Andrew, though she was already aware, thank fuck, and dumped his ass.”

I shake my head, ignoring the way my heart skips at his words, and remind him, “We’re only supposed to be watching her, Roman. Why are you getting involved in her personal life?”

He grins and reminds me, “Because despite you wanting to bury your head in the sand, she’s your one.”

I growl, “No, she fucking isn’t,” before storming past him and shouting,“Hurry up and clean this shit up, I have practice to get on with!” and walk to the tunnel, needing a shower before I can even start now that I’m covered in blood, my brother’s laugher following me.

The dick…

“Hey, Caz, what are you doing here?” I ask the Jaguars' receptionist as I walk out of the locker, freshly showered and changed, ready to practice. I subtly look towards the rink, where I know my brother is most likely still cleaning up my mess, and I know I need to stall.

The hot blonde shrugs and pushes off the opposite wall where she was clearly waiting for me and admits, “I wanted to watch you skate.”

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