Page 120 of No One But Me
Nothing.
Hades skated past, tapped my shin guard with his stick. "You good?"
"Fine."
He circled back around, unconvinced. "You look like you want to kill someone."
The puck hit my blade. I fired it hard into the boards. "Save it for the game."
He laughed—that dark, amused sound that said he knew exactly what was eating at me. "She didn't show?"
I didn't answer.
The irritation dug deeper into my ribs with every lap. Every scan of the crowd. Every second she continued to defy me.
I'd given her one simple instruction.
Be here.
In my jersey.
Where everyone can see you belong to me.
She'd promised nothing. But the contract didn't require promises. It required compliance.
She knew that. She agreed to that. And still…
The arena roared as the starting lineup was announced. My name echoed through the speakers. Thousands screaming.
None of them her.
I skated to center ice, jaw tight, focus fracturing in ways it never had before.
The puck dropped. And for the first time in my career, I couldn't stop thinking about what was happening off the ice.
The first period blurred into violence I barely felt.
My stick cracked against someone's ribs—legal hit, brutal finish. The boards rattled. The crowd exploded. I didn't hear any of it. Just skated back to position, chest heaving, eyes sweeping the stands one more time.
Still nothing. Still no curves tucked into my jersey. Still no proof she understood what she was to me.
I slammed into the next opponent harder than necessary. Sent him sprawling. The ref's whistle shrieked, but I was already moving, chasing the puck like it owed me something. Like punishing strangers on skates would somehow reach through the miles between here and wherever the hell Belle was hiding.
Because that was what she was doing.
Hiding.
Defiance dressed up as independence.
She thought staying away would prove something. That she could draw a line I wouldn't cross. That the contract had limits she could exploit.
Wrong.
I took another shift, legs burning, anger sharpening into something colder. More dangerous. The kind of focus that made me excellent and everyone else afraid.
Hades caught my eye from across the ice, grinned like he could taste blood in the water. He knew. They all knew. I was playing on a razor's edge tonight, and God help anyone stupid enough to test me.
The puck came my way. I didn't pass. Didn't wait for backup. Just drove straight down the center, body checking anyone who got close, until I had a clear shot.
