Page 5 of Burn it Down

My hands clench into fists as I stare out at the frozen parking lot. Lakynn’s voice is in my head. Her skin under my hands. Her smile, the one no one else ever earned. She was always just for me. I don’t know what they told her, but if they lied to me, they most certainly lied to her, too.

Caiden is right. I need to bide my time, and now that I know she’s safe under his watchful eye, I’m going to plan everything out.

My father has no idea what I’ll do to stop this from happening, and to be honest, I haven’t figured out exactly how this is going to go.

I step back into the locker room, my skates biting into the rubber mats. I grab my helmet and pull it down over my face.

I’m going to take some of the rage running through me out on anyone who gets in my way, because I do my best thinking when my knuckles are bloody.

And then I’m going home.

I’m going to get my girl.

RIVEN

The puck drops, and I launch off the line like I’ve got a jet burning under me. My skates slice through the ice, and for a second, the noise in my head fades. I don’t hear the crowd. Don’t feel the cold. That quickly, a plan starts forming, and I know every move I need to make to get Lakynn in a safe place.

With me. She’s only safe with me.

Castlebrook’s offense clicks into place around me. Hayden’s fast and reckless as he skates, passing the puck to Callum. I suppose their little squabble earlier has been long forgotten, because they move in tandem, like they can read each other’s minds. Tristan’s a stone wall in front of the net, ready to keep the other team from getting even one point.

I don’t give a fuck about this game. I’m here to make someone bleed.

I track the puck, swipe it from a forward who’s not paying attention, and pass it to one of the freshmen who nearly fumbles the damn thing. My vision goes red. Not because of the game. Because ofhim. The ref.

He’s standing too close to the glass, pretending he doesn’t recognize me. But I know him. Scar under his chin, same deadeyes. He runs “errands” as my father would say. Enforced debts. Put people in the ground. He’s here to watch me and report back to my father.

Money will get you anything you want in this world, and it looks like he’s shelled out some of his coins to place his workers to watch what I’m doing. It crosses my mind that it would have been easier for him to just try to kill me once my hits were completed. The fact that no one has tried tells me that they’re not finished with me. They have more for me to do, and they’re trying to keep me distracted until she’s gone.

Seeing this fucker is like tasting smoke in your mouth and knowing the fire’s about to find you.

I shift my weight and glare at him. He may have never even been in the same room as Lakynn, but it doesn’t matter to me. He’s fucking dead for even being a part of any of this.

When I make my move, it’s not even planned. It’s instinct. The moment one of the other team’s players checks me and the ref raises his whistle topenalize me, I fucking lose it.

Gloves drop. Stick clatters across the ice.

I ignore the player and launch myself at the ref.

My fist collides with his face, and he reels back, blood blooming instantly and coloring the scraped up ice. He tries to backpedal, but I’m on him. I slam him into the boards, and there’s just hit after hit after hit. The asshole can’t even cover his face to defend himself. I don’t feel my knuckles split. All I feel is rage.

And her.

Lakynn in a fucking wedding dress.

My girl wearing another man’s ring.

My fucking future wife being promised to someonewho isn’t me.

I growl and drive my elbow into the ref’s chest. He slumps. Someone's yelling behind me, but it’s distant. The arena's screaming, and still, it’s quiet in my head.

Because all I hear is Lakynn’s sweet voice.

All I see are her lips.

Her mouth taking vows with someone who could never deserve her.

I’d kill for her.

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