Page 134 of Secret Obsession
Seems he swung it like a bat. Hard, too, because goalie sticks don’t break very easily.
“Miles,” Knox calls.
“Fuck off,” Miles snarls.
I shake my head. Miles has a blade in his hand, and he stabs at the sheets. There’s already drops of blood on it, vibrant against the white linens.
Enough is fucking enough.
I march forward and grab him from behind. Knox leaps with me, prying the folding knife from his brother’s hand. And Steele is on his other side, pinning his other arm back. Together, we slam him against the wall.
“Just stop.” I lean into his spine. “Relax. Talk to us.”
“She fuckingleft.”
Well, that much I knew.
“Okay…” Knox’s brows furrow. “Why? Where’d she go?”
“I don’t fucking know where she went, she took my phone—”
“So that tracker is useless?” I guess.
He struggles against us, and Knox nods to me and Steele. We release him and hop back just as his fists go flying.
I duck and shove him back again.
Tough love time.
I wrap my hand around his throat and force him to look at me. “Dude. Suck it up. Your girl left you? You can get her back. There’s always a fucking way, and I don’t really want to hear your griping or self-pity that it isn’t. This reaction? This anger?” I gesture to the room. “Use that in our game.”
Miles shoves me away. “Asshole.”
“Whatever you say, buttercup,” I snap back. “This is our future on the line. You want to run off after her without any clue where she went? Know that you’ll never play on our team again.”
He goes still.
Knox and Steele glance over, too.
But whatever, I fucking mean it. “She left of her own free will?” I confirm.
He hesitates, then nods.
“She wasn’t kidnapped by her psycho stalker. She’s not in danger. Wherever she went, it probably wasn’t far because Violet and Aspen drove with her. And they’re still here.”
That sinks into his thick skull.
He nods slowly, sagging back against the wall. I straighten his shirt, which he had managed to put on before completely destroying his room, and tie his tie. I snatch his one remaining stick and put it in his hands.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s go play some fucking hockey.”
40
MILES
TWO YEARS AGO
“Truth or dare,” Amanda prompts, directing her words at Willow.
