Page 8 of Shots & Echoes

And I knew.

This wasn’t over.

It was just getting started.

“Close one, Evans,” someone called, their voice laced with that syrupy, fake encouragement that made my teeth grind.

I bit back the heat rising in my cheeks, forcing my face into something blank. Unbothered. Controlled.

But inside, I was seething.

Knox turned toward me, skating backward slow, like he had all the time in the world. That smirk carved across his face—like he already knew he’d won.

Like he’d always win.

He propped his stick across his hips, eyes sharp under the shadow of his helmet. “That the best you got, golden girl?”

The laughter tightened behind me.

I clenched my teeth. He knew exactly what he was doing—poking at me, testing for a crack.

I skated forward, quick, closing the space between us. “Keep running your mouth, Callahan. We’ll see who’s laughing later.”

He leaned in slightly, voice low. “You think chirping back makes you tough?” His gaze flicked down—just once—then back to my eyes. “I could put you through that glass and you’d still get up smiling for daddy.”

My breath hitched—because it wasn’t an empty threat. He’d do it. And part of me thought…

I’d get up smiling just to spite him.

I squared my shoulders, stepping into his space, blades scraping against his. “Try it.”

For a beat, we just stood there—close enough that I could feel his breath against my cheek, the heat radiating from him under all that padding.

His eyes dragged over me slowly—like he was cataloging every weakness, every opening to exploit—and yet, there was something else under it.

Something he was fighting to smother.

He clicked his tongue, like he was disappointed. “You’ve got a little bite, I’ll give you that.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” I snapped.

He tilted his head, voice dropping lower—gravelly, dangerous. “I know your type.”

A pause.

“Daddy’s star player. Always does what she’s told. Never been hit hard enough to see what you’re really made of.”

The words cut more than I wanted to admit—because he was too close to the truth.

I took a step back—not retreating, just… repositioning.

I told myself that.

“You don’t scare me,” I said, steady.

His eyes narrowed, amused.

“No?” He moved closer, his voice a taunt and a promise. “You should be.”

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