The guy might be my agent, but he's not particularly likeable. Wearing a pin-neat blue suit and tie, his dark hair is slicked back, his smile as sharp as razor wire. For a formerhockey player, he's awfully pretty. Too good-looking for me to trust him, that's for sure.
When Hunter took him on as an agent, Jett and I did, too. But I have always felt this hostility toward him. After I turned Scout down, he swept her off her feet and married her within a few months. I was forced to watch them together, especially after their relationship had lost its shine. Enzo made me a lot of money, but my stomach turned every time I saw him slipping a pretty girl his phone number or hiding lipstick stains on his collars.
Not only did he take someone I wanted, but he didn’t treat her right. It was sickening to watch.
I sigh as Enzo slips in, late as usual. Enzo’s suit fits like it was painted on. His laugh carries across the locker room, too loud, too practiced. He shakes hands with one of the assistant coaches, then slaps backs with a sponsor who's touring the facility. He's all performance and charm.
He’s back in his old stomping grounds, doing deals and putting his greasy palms all over any player who will look his way. Themotherfucker.
It makes him an ideal agent. Enzo has made me a lot of money since he signed me in college. He scores big deals and those deals come with fat checks. Doesn't mean I have to like the guy, though.
Just outside the doorway, I see a flash of curly hair and hear a melodic laugh, the sound sliding down my spine like a thousand tiny bells rung in harmony.
Enzo’s head jerks because he hears Scout as I do. He smiles as he starts moving toward the staff station where Scout is working. And I follow him.
Damn if I'm going to let him mess with her. I don't give a fuck who he is. He's been coming around the arena more since Scout officially divorced him. I think he's here to keeptabs on her, not monitor the hockey players who he's supposed to be worried about.
Fuckingasshole.
"Hey, Silas," Coach Ryan calls. "Can we talk about the Buffalo game?"
He comes up and pulls my attention. Scout moves away, Enzo slipping out the door toward her. In a second, they are both out of sight.
"One sec. I'll be right back," I promise. "I just have to grab something."
Or kill someone, I think.
I brush past the doorway, pausing, cocking my head. There are low voices coming from the narrow corridor behind the training room. Following the sound, I steel myself for a confrontation.
Scout's pressed against an equipment cart, juggling a clipboard and a bundle of lanyards. Enzo leans on the edge of the cart like it belongs to him. His voice pitches low, intimate in a way that makes my jaw lock.
"You should quit while you're ahead, bella. This place isn't for you. You look like a volunteer who wandered in and got lost."
Scout's smile stays fixed on her face, but I see her knuckles go white on the clipboard. The plastic creaks under her grip. She doesn't answer him. It's the silence that gets me. The way she justtakesit.
I want her to fight back. Or maybe I want to pound my agent into the ground so she never has to fight with him again. Either way would be fine by me.
Enzo’s back is toward me, so he doesn't see me as he leans in. "I want you gone."
Scout's lips part but no sound comes out. Her eyes arewide, her breathing too fast. She's scared of him. My hands tense, forming fists.
"Why are you here, Enzo?" My voice comes out flat and cold. Enzo straightens and turns, that billboard smile spreading across his face. There's no evidence that I startled him, but Enzo doesn't ever show much of anything on the surface.
"Ah, Huxley." He holds up his hands like I'm the one being unreasonable. "I was just talking to my wife. What are you doing here? Try not to look like you're plotting murder, huh? Sponsors don't love that energy."
"Ex-wife," Scout corrects. "Very ex."
He laughs, looking at me like we're old friends sharing a joke. My eyes harden.
"Sure, bella. Whatever you say." Enzo edges closer and Scout takes a half-step back. That fucker.
I growl, "Enzo, she obviously doesn't want to talk to you. You shouldn't be back here anyway. Go rub elbows with rich sponsors like you're paid to do."
"You're prickly, aren't you?" His smile sharpens at the edges. "She's my ex-wife, not your problem."
The words land like a blade between my ribs. I don't flinch or react in any way. I just stare at him until his smile wavers at the corners. He pats my shoulder like he's patting a dog and drifts off down the hallway, still grinning at anyone who'll look his way.
Scout keeps staring down at her clipboard. Her throat works like she's swallowing something sharp. She doesn't lift her eyes.
