Page 15 of My Brother's Enemy
He barked out a laugh. “Will do, and no, you won’t.”
“Hey.”
“You know not to fight me on this. We got it.”
I gave in. I had other battles to tend to. “I’ll double the winning bid. Just let me know.”
“Will do. Take care. Love ya, man.”
“You too.” We hung up, and man, I missed my best friend and my old team something fierce right now.
But I didn’t have time to dwell because I’d missed the call from Mal Benoit, but now it came through again. I answered before the first ring stopped. “I heard.”
Mal Benoit sighed, the sound eerily similar to Nolan moments earlier. “That’s what I was worried about. I just got notified myself. The team will issue a statement, and I have ties to a reputable media outlet. One of the editors is a friend of mine. We can’t control what the other outlets will say, but I promise that one will make it respectable. She won’t print anything we don’t approve. My personal opinion is that you loop her in, and then we hit hard, shaming the other outlets for violating your niece’s privacy. Blurred faces and not printing her name doesn’t mean anything nowadays. They all know that. You can also use this as a way to humanize what your family is going through.”
I listened to everything he said, and he was right. That was the way to go, but I was still reeling. “Uh, yeah. That sounds good. When would she need to hear from me? How would that work?”
“She won’t beat the other outlets. Everyone’s printing in the morning, so as soon as possible, I’d imagine.”
I needed to skate. I needed to clear my head. Then I’d go into damage control and figure out how to break the news to Skylar. Shit. Her world was going to fall apart for the second time in a week. “I need an hour or two. I—I just need that time.”
“I’ll make the call. She’ll be on standby. She’s local. She can meet you somewhere too.”
That all sounded good. A private room where I could dictate which words were going to be used to set my family’s life on fire. Wonderful. “I’ll get back to you.”
Next, I called the night nurse on duty and asked if she could keep an eye on my sister.
“Will do. She was sleeping the last time I checked in there.”
“Good. If you can, don’t let her check her phone until I get there.”
After that, I turned my phone off. I needed to or I wouldn’t be able to think. This wasn’t my first rodeo. I needed to process my own shit, and then I’d figure out how to destroy everyone trying to hurt my family.
Heading inside, I expected the rink lights to be on, considering I’d seen the psych doctor with skates over her shoulder. But I hadn’t expected to find her in the middle of the ice, hands on her hips, her head tipped forward.
I slowed to a stop and watched.
Music started, and my ears perked. She used to be a figure skater? No... Those were hockey skates on her feet. She stood on them like they were another pair of shoes to her. She wasn’t some novice skater.
The music kicked up, and she pushed off, gliding forward.
She went straight to the end of the rink and flew around, completing a lap.
She wasn’t a figure skater.
I kept watching, and she kept going, and going, and going. She picked up speed in the first lap, and by the time she was doing her fourth, she was whipping around the rink as fast as any pro NHL player. Fuck. She was good. She was really good.
I stepped closer to the ice.
That pull was there, like a hook inside of me. I knew her. I didn’t know how or when our paths crossed, but they had at some point. Or was this something else? Like that shit some psychics talk about? Did I know her from a past life or something? Even as I considered that, I didn’t believe it. No. No way. I knew her in this life, somehow.
On her next pass, she lifted her head and saw me. Her eyes widened, and I realized that’s what was messing with me. She was in serious pain. She hadn’t had time to mask it when she looked up.
That’s what had connected me to her. I didn’t actually know her, but somehow, I’d realized she was experiencing the same agony as my twin sister.
Rain careened to a stop, turning shortly so she didn’t fall—her chest heaving, her hair wild and free, and tears rolling down her face.
I pressed a hand to the partition separating us.
