Page 159 of Hockey Halloween
Fuck, that piece of shit gets around.
“She moved here to get a clean break because she was the talk of her small town when their relationship imploded.”
And by imploded they mean that fucker ground her down todust and shoved her heart through a woodchipper. It’s bastards like him that give hockey players a bad name. The toxic masculinity in the sport is growing old for the good ones among us. I don’t know how the rest of the dating pool feels, but most days I feel like standing in the street shouting that I’m not one of them.
I might be a big, brooding bastard, but enthusiastic consent is my favorite thing. And anyone on the ice who is known to treat women like shit may find themselves on the receiving end of the occasional high stick, or elbow, or stray fist.
And God help the day anyone crosses my younger sister. I’ll do fucking time. They’ll find his body parts scattered around the state, and I wouldn’t even bury them. It would be a warning to every man who ever dates her that, when I get out of prison for murdering her abusive ex, I’ll go after them if they hurt her.
Zero fucks given.
“Easy, Turbo.” Artemis cups his hand around my clenched fist. “He’s not here, and even if he was, we need you helping with this fucking maze and not in prison for rearranging Johnny White’s face.”
My jaw hurts from clenching. “Why the fuck can’t they just keep it in their pants and not be pricks?”
The brothers look at me like it’s as much of a mystery to them as it is to me.
“Society hates women, that’s why.”
I damn near jump out of my skin when Athena de la Peña’s voice appears out of nowhere, joining the conversation. “And they don’t care who knows it.” She flashes me a wicked, knowing grin when I turn back to face her. “She’s single, you know.”
I cover my face with my hand, but not before catching a glimpse of her dancing, suggestive eyebrows.
The only thing worse than two matchmaking de la Peñas is when the whole set get involved. And, as I try to turn my attention back to the work at hand, part of me can’t help but wonder if it’s time to get back out into the dating pool. Maybe it’s a case of right time, wrong girl?
Lilith
I can’t take it anymore. I might not have known him for very long, but I’ve known him long enough to know that he has a special scowl just for me.
It’s worse than his resting scowly face. It’s somehow more… scowly.
I don’t know why. Do I offend him that much?
My ex, Johnny, told me I wasn’t anything special, that I was plain, just like everyone else, so how Mason is having such a visceral reaction to my existence is anyone’s guess.
Maybe he really just doesn’t like clowns. He’ll need to get over himself because I’ll be dressing up as Pennywise again tonight for the maze event.
The more I get glowered at by Mason McGuffin, the more my blood boils. Who does he think he is?
If he’s trying to make me feel more out of place because I’m new, then it’s working. It’s like his gaze is penetrating my clothes and singeing my skin.
Didn’t his mother teach him it’s rude to stare?
Well, I’m not going to let him get away with whatever power play he thinks this is.
I stride over to where he’s standing, with four de la Peñas not too far away. I plant my hand on my hip, pop my knee, and arch a brow. “I’d like to talk to you.”
“No can do, ghost.” He hooks a thumb over his very naked, very muscly shoulder. “I have a job to do or my boss will kick my ass.”
I smirk. “Pretty sure Apollo said I was your boss, and I’m requesting a word.”
He smirks back, his nostrils flaring just enough for me to know he’s going to tell me to go fuck myself. But he does something worse. He turns away from me.
I think the fuck not. I grab him just above his elbow and guide him to a nearby shipping container. At least, that’s what it looks like. It’s a small, Cedar Rapids Raccoon green rectangle made out of metal. It could be a burger bar or a merch stand, I have no fucking clue, but I guide him behind it, spin him to face me and back him up till his body hits the corrugated metal side of the container.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
His eyes focus on someone behind me, and a look I don’t recognize crosses his face. “Do you trust me?”
