We called Detective Lincoln on the cell number he’d given us, but my brother trailed through the forest and I don’t know where he came out or how he got away. He’s smart. But he’s not smart enough to never get caught.
And why was he out there?Tasia said she never saw him.
Someone is lying, and I don’t know who.
I squeeze the warm mocha in my hand. It’s minus twenty out, which accounts for my giant red, shiny puffer jacket that lookslike a candy apple,andthe blueberry scone in my hands. Okay, maybe it doesn’t account for that, but Faust ordered it for me over my protests and yeah, I’m going to eat it.
My mind flickers to Will’s missing phone. Jackson’s. Tasia’s, too. She has a new one; Karter sent me the number in case I wanted to ask her any questions about what happened a few nights ago.
I don’t want to ask her shit, though.
I shiver and I tell myself it’s because it’s freezing here on the red-painted bench, the rubber mat beneath my black, bowed Uggs.
I huddle deeper into my coat and watch the boys carve up the ice, their glides powerful but graceful in a way that’s harder to see from higher up in the stands. Or maybe it is for me since I never wear my fucking glasses.
Faust maneuvers around orange cones on the ice with ease, the puck dancing with him, then he slaps it to Sylvan.
Sylvan’s strides get him to the offensive zone in no time, and while the net is open, he feints left, then right, then taps the puck in at the far left post, like he’s sliding it behind an imaginary goalie.
A grin stretches across my face and I start to clap with cold fingers, my gloves off so I can take photos and they can hear my cheering.
Sylvan blows me a kiss with a grin behind his helmet, and Faust shakes his head slightly, his big body made bigger by all the padding he’s wearing. And the skates. He’s so tall I could climb him like a fucking tree, and I just might.
They set up again after Sylvan slides the puck to Faust, then does a lap around both nets for what looks like simply showing off.
I don’t mind.
He’s hot as hell, and he’s all mine.
I glance at my phone and see Cynthia texted me despite the early hour. Her and Tye are at Tye’s place but they’re coming over tonight. Another sleepover, but it feels safer that way. And aside from gathering clothes and books from our apartment, we haven’t been staying there.
Cyn
You good?
It’s become a ritual for us. A quick check-in on the few days we aren’t together. We’re paranoid, and it shows.
Excellent. Go back to sleep.
I smile as I send the text, smoothing my thumb over my screen.
From the tunnel the boys led me through, I hear footsteps. They told me some of the team might show up for an early session too but they wouldn’t mind if I was here. In fact, Faust saidhe’dmind and move me elsewhere.
But I still glance over my shoulder, wondering who is coming. I don’t know any of the team well, and I’m ready to bark at a surly player who might have a problem with a girl sitting onhisbench. Then again, it could be the coach—Wynon,I think I heard Sylvan call him—and maybe he’d have a bigger problem with a girlfriend sitting here for a practice session.
Then the steps stop, and I frown in the general direction of the corridor. I can’t quite see down it from here, the rubber flooring leading around a corner that blocks my view.
I shrug, then watch the boys, both of them racing now, and I don’t think that has anything to do with actual practice, but what do I know?
Sylvan is going to beat Faust until Faust shoves him as he passes by and Sylvan veers toward the boards. My heart leaps to my throat but it wasn’t a hard push, just enough to throw Sylvan off, so Faust makes it to the practice offensive zone first, lifting his hands up in more celebration than I’d assume he’d make.
A grin curves my lips.
Then a shadow falls across my body.
And before I can look up, fingers grab my hair, jerking back violently, lifting me out of my seat, and something ice cold presses against my throat.
My body is forcefully maneuvered into another’s, and the pain in my scalp is bright. I glance down, the knife’s blade filling my vision, and my stomach drops as I imagine how many deaths it has committed.
