By Nolan Devine’s hand, long, pale fingers clenched tight around the black handle.
I feel him breathe behind me, even with my puffer jacket on. Like his lungs are rattly. Orhe’srattled.
I take a breath.
And just as I start to scream—at the same time both boys skate my way, gloves and sticks both dropped and left on the ice—Nolan speaks against my ear.
“Don’t scream, please. I don’t want to hurt you.”
I suck in icy air and the scent of the rink at the same time the boys near the low wall that separates me from them.
Faust’s eyes are black. Sylvan has a smile on his lips, but I see his chest heaving all the same, and I’m not sure how much is from skating and how much is from rage.
I keep my hands in tight fists by my side, unsure if I should fight back. With Nolan, I think I can talk him into letting me go first.
But in the woods, I had to fight, didn’t I?
“Then release me,” I say softly as both Faust and Sylvan brush off their helmets, letting them fall with a crack to the ice.
They’re almost here. Almost at the bench.
And Nolan says, “I can’t,” just before the power goes out.
SIXTY-FIVE
FAUST
The generators should be working.
I should be able to fuckingsee.
But nothing comes on, even the ice sounds dead. Dull. I’ve never heard Sky Arena this silent.
Still, I’ve spent my life on rinks. Near benches. Playing over ice.
I blink in the darkness, and I don’t speak. But just as I intend to jump over the low wall and sense which shadow is my girl, the door creaks open.
They’re spilling out.
“Let go of me.” My girl’s voice, low and tense but full of anger. Not fear.
So he wants to play on the ice?
I hear the sounds of Sylvan’s blades skating toward them, but I also hear Nolan’s words to his sister.
“I’ll never.” His tone is dead. Empty. He’s going to be both of those things very soon. “They’ll take you from me, and I can’t have that.” Still no emotion in his words.
“Nolan,” Neve gasps out. “You’re going to?—”
Fall.I hear the blade clatter on the ice before she can speak the word. Fucking idiot. You can’t walk on a rink in your snow boots. I thought he was supposed to be smart?
But in the darkness, in the silence, he’s certainly more intelligent than this moment would make you believe. And all those broken cameras, all those hidden angles? How did he know to hunt her, how did he strike with no one seeing? The truck’s engine from the night Jackson died, it was his, wasn’t it? But he knew where to park. He knew how to hide. And I have no doubt he slipped Jackson’s phone from the dead man’s truck. Took Will’s, but knew he was going to visit his sister, to hurt her, and didnothing.He wanted to be the savior, but Sylvan got there first.
I’ve thought about this too much. I am far too angry to let him live.
His arm is around her throat. The blade is by his hip.
If I charge for her, he could hurt her. If I don’t move, he’ll kill her.
