My free hand balled into a fist. I forced myself to keep moving, even though I wanted to punch the smug grin right off his face.
I could practically feel his eyes on the back of my head.
“McQuaid,” he called out right when I reached the door.
I stopped walking but didn’t turn to face him. He didn’t deserve my time or energy.
“I was going to give Ali that divorce,” he said oh-so-casually from across the lobby. “But now it doesn’t seem like such a good idea.”
I ground my back teeth so hard they could crack, but still refused to look at him.
“You always had to go and interfere, didn’t you? Play the superhero.” He let out a snide laugh. “You sure you wanna be involved? That girl will take you down. Is she really worth it?” he taunted. “You’ve left her before, maybe you should do that again now.”
Turning, I gave him a look of fury.
“Okay.” He shrugged, a smug grin still on his face. “You fuck with my life, I’ll fuck with yours.”
“Go ahead,” I said in a low voice before pushing out of the rink into the cold December night. “I’m ready.”
.
41. ALI - STORM BREWING
The next night, I was in the middle of ordering dinner when blue and white flashing lights appeared through the kitchen window. Dread gripped my body as the cop cars turned down Cliff’s long driveway.
“JP,” I called out in a shaky voice. “Can you come here?”
He rushed out of the bedroom in socks, sweatpants, and a t-shirt. Now that he hit the two-week mark after his surgery, the team physical therapist advised him to have a little time without his sling for light exercises each day. “Yeah, what’s…” The rest of his sentence died in his throat as he saw the flashing lights. The color drained from his face. “Where’s my dad?”
“He’s at Herbs, isn’t he?”
JP immediately ran back to the room for his phone. When he came back to the kitchen, the ring tone filled the air as he tried to reach his dad. He squeezed his eyes shut as he waited, his hand slightly shaking.
I twisted the dishtowel in my hands, trying to calm my nerves. When his dad didn’t answer. JP swore under his breath and called again.
“Breathe, JP,” I reminded him.
He nodded, his eyes still closed.
“Jamie?” his dad’s voice finally answered. JP’s whole body saggedwith relief. “Is Ali okay? I’m with a customer, but I can—”
JP’s eyes found mine. “All good, Dad. Just wanted to check in,” he said calmly before hanging up. Knowing JP, he didn’t tell his dad because he didn’t want him to worry him, but Cliff would want to know that cops were at his house.
As soon as the first police officer exited his vehicle, my heart sank to the floor. Familiar cocky stride, bulging arm muscles, and a dark brown mustache. Spencer. One of Mark’s best friends. One of the guys we saw in the grocery store.
“JP, that’s—”
“Yupp,” he said, grabbing my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Jameson McQuaid?” the other cop asked.
JP nodded. “What’s this about?”
“You’re under arrest for vandalism,” Spencer said with a smug grin.
My eyes flashed to JP’s grey ones in panic. Now that he knew his dad was okay, he seemed calm and collected. He pulled me closer and rubbed a hand down my back, trying to soothe me. “What kind of vandalism?” he asked.
“Tires were slashed in the Centre Ice parking lot,” the other cop stated. “Yesterday around 7pm.”
