Page 196 of Stick It
“Harder than we have in previous years,” Jax adds, smirking.
Fisting the front of Lucas’s jacket, Finn shoves him harder into the wall. “Yeah, all thanks to our brand-newstar player.” He puts on a fake pout. “Too bad you couldn’t see past her gender to her potential.”
All pretense of friendliness drops as Lucas sneers at each of us. “Why are you here?” he demands, wrestling to get free of Finn’s grip.
I jerk my head toward the building, a silentnot here. Peeking around to the front, it’s now empty, everyone having quickly cleared out. Between the four of us, it’s not difficult to haul Lucas, even with his struggling, back into the dark, quietbuilding. It’s vacant, no sign of the hush-hush poker game that just wrapped up.
“What the fuck do you want?!”
His gaze meets mine, and I catch a flash of his fear. Good. Heshouldbe afraid.
“Just a friendly chat.” Despite his words, Jax’s tone is laced with menace.
Lucas sneers. “What, get bored playing bodyguard to that slut? Had to come all the way to NSU to get fresh pussy?”
The air turns deadly.
I step forward, closing the distance. “Cut the bullshit. Why were you at the game that night?”
His grin stretches wider. “We had the night off. Thought we’d catch some college hockey. Lucky us, right? Hell of a hit.”
I clench my jaw so hard I feel it crack. “You expect me to believe that?”
He shrugs, all arrogance and ease. “Timing worked out. What can I say? We picked a good night to come watch you guys.”
Ethan’s voice cuts through the static in my ears. Hard. Cold. Menacing. “Were you behind it?”
Lucas lifts a brow, the picture of mock innocence, but amusement flickers in his eyes. “Behind what?”
“The hit. Did you tell him to go after her?” Ethan’s voice drops lower with every word. Each one a warning. “Did you put a target on her back?”
Lucas chuckles, low and oily. “You really think I’d waste my time orchestrating a hit on agirl?” His gaze flicks to each of us. “You give me too much credit.”
Jax’s voice is quieter, but somehow hits harder. “You sat there smiling while they carried her off the ice.”
Lucas doesn’t answer.
Doesn’tblink.
Doesn’t deny it.
He just leans back and smiles like this is a game he has already won.
Finn mutters something sharp behind me, but I’m done.
I didn’t come here for a confession. I came for confirmation.
And I just got it.
I lunge.
My fist slams into his jaw with a sickening crunch that echoes through the room. The snap of his tendons as his head whips to the side is music to my fucking ears. Lucas stumbles, barely catching himself before I slam into him again, this time with a gut punch that doubles him over. He gasps, but I’m not done. Not even close. Fury bleeds through my veins, only fueled by his pained grunts and labored breathing.
I grab his jacket, yank him upright, and deliver another blow to his temple. He swings back, manages to graze my chin, but then Finn’s there, a blur of rage, cracking his knuckles against Lucas’s ribs.
Jax joins in next, grabbing Lucas by the collar and slamming him against the wall before driving a punch into his stomach so hard Lucas wheezes.
Even Ethan, ever the voice of reason, lands a solid hit to Lucas’s jaw before stepping back, eyes hard. It was only a matter of time until he joined in on the action. He might like to pretend he’s ‘above it’, but he’s a red-blooded hockey player just like the rest of us. The need for violence burns through him. That aggression. That need to punch. To bleed. To win.
