Page 30 of Callous Shot

As much as I hate to say it, you’re right. Be careful. They have bikes and they may be armed. Block the exit if you can but stay safe. I’ll cover you from the back. Nova, stay in the car no matter what. Everyone got it?

Hell yeah. If these guys were anything to do with Operation Foxglove—and even if not, they were our enemies purely based on the fact that they were actively working against Jay’s family—they needed to pay. And I was in the mood to teach someone a lesson.

A new message from Ryker came through. Thirty seconds, then I could kick someone’s ass.

Shoving my phone in my pocket, I tugged my gloves back on as I counted down in my head. As soon as the thirty seconds were up, we sprang into action. There were three of them and three of us, so I headed straight for the closest guy, who swung at me with his fists as soon as he noticed me barrelling into him. As I pummelled him, he screamed obscenities in my face, words I’d heard many times around the Volkovs. That was a whole new problem, because if these guys were connected with the Volkovs rather than Operation Foxglove, things were about to get very messy indeed.

“Fuck. Off!” I screamed at the helmeted guy, getting him in a chokehold and sending him crashing to the ground. As soon as he was down, I scrambled to my feet, gasping for air behind the mask—seriously, these masks were so impractical for necessities like taking deep breaths—and took my chance. I skidded across the soaked grass to the nearest bike and launched it into the churning waters. It was swept away in milliseconds, swallowed up in the grey depths, and I swallowed hard, realising just how serious Ryker’s warnings had been about the currents.

But there was no time to reflect on that, because the same guy was back up on his feet, and this time, he was out for blood. His body slammed into mine, and my foot slipped in the mud on impact, sending us both flying across the clearing. We landed close to the tree and went at each other, punching and kicking and grappling in an effort to gain the upper hand. Strings of Russian curses came from beneath his helmet, punctuated by heavy breaths and grunts, and I wanted nothing more than to rip his helmet from his head and punch his mouth until he stopped running it.

But I couldn’t seem to get a grip on him. He was a dead weight on top of me, crushing me into the mud as I rained down blows on his back and sides, my hands slipping on his leather jacket.

With a roar, I wrapped my legs around him and twisted, throwing myself to the side. The second I was out from under him, I swung my body upright, running for the closest bike. Pulling out my knife from my pocket, I flipped open the blade and began hacking at the exposed cables. I had no clue about bikes, but I knew enough to know that cut cables meant bad news for anyone trying to ride this thing.

I was wrenched backwards, my knife flying from my grip as I skidded across the grass again. Fuck.

A dark shadow reared up over me, his arms outstretched and something clasped between his palms.

It all happened so quickly.

The huge rock, smashing into my head.

Then darkness descended.

14

DAN

I groaned, tipping my head back against the wall in the smoking room at Thorpe Manor, alone in a shadowy corner while everyone else celebrated around me. Today should have been a celebration for me, too. After an enforced couple of days of bed rest, during which I’d missed out on ice time with my team, and my best friend’s interrogation of the guy that had been captured after my skull had been introduced to a rock, I’d been able to get back in on the action.

After the game I’d missed, I’d gone to Thorpe Manor to meet Jay and Ryker, and had immediately been sucked into a complete shitstorm of drama. It turned out that the guys we’d fought at the river hadn’t been part of Operation Foxglove. They were connected with the Volkovs, but not in the way we thought. Anton Volkov’s uncle had been the culprit. He’d plotted a whole secret takeover of the Volkov Syndicate, and kidnapped Nova as part of his nefarious plan. Thank fuck we’d been able to track her, and I’d managed to take out my frustrations on one of his henchmen while the others found Nova and captured Anton’s uncle. They’d finished tying up the loose ends today, and I’d gained a new respect for the Cranham Kings’ goalie. Anton had used what had happened as leverage to broker a new deal between the Thorpes and the Volkovs, resulting in the dissolution of his engagement to Nova, which meant she was free to be with Jay.

Now here we were, doing some celebratory crime organisation bonding shit with the Thorpes and Volkovs, and I’d never felt less like celebrating. Not while I still had my own loose ends to tie up.

I dug my phone out of my pocket. I needed to plan, and that meant I couldn’t delay checking out a certain tattooed, hockey-playing bane of my existence’s socials any longer.

My mouth fell open, a gasp tearing from my throat as I swiped frantically through my accounts.

That absolute fucking asshole. He’d blocked me. Everywhere.

There was a stupid lump in my throat as I stared down at my screen, my head pounding. What had I done to deserve him blocking me? Yeah, he’d probably been shaken by what had happened, like I was, but actually blocking me? I felt like I’d been suddenly cut off from an oxygen tank I hadn’t even known was sustaining me.

Then I remembered something else. He’d pulled a knife on me in that fight. Granted, it was a pathetic, minuscule excuse for a knife that would have barely been able to scratch me, but even so. Yeah, I already knew he hated me, just like I hated him. But right up until that point, I hadn’t really realised just how deep that hate ran.

My jaw clenched. Good fucking riddance. No more passing notes. No more having to stalk social media for clues. No more unwanted trips to Whelford Uni.

I swallowed, swiping at my eyes as my head throbbed even harder.

No more Lincoln Bellingham.

Or at least, not until I’d tied up my final loose ends. One more thing, then I could be free of him.

Straightening up, I strode outside, detouring to grab my jacket from the coat stand. It was too smoky and too crowded in here, and my headache was getting worse. There was still a noticeable lump on my head, accompanied by this throbbing pain. The altercation I’d had with the Bratva henchman had probably exacerbated it.

Leaning back against the wall, I sucked in a breath of fresh, chilled air, alone with my thoughts for the first time today. My most pressing issue was Operation Foxglove. Jay’s family had been through enough, and I knew Jay was still worried.

It was up to me to ensure there was no heat on the Attwoods. That meant going to the person who’d blocked me like I was irrelevant to him. I needed to make sure he knew that there would be consequences for digging. Serious consequences.