Secret Obsession: A Dark Hockey Romance (Hockey Gods)
Secret Obsession: Chapter 31

“Detective Barrister needs me to go to the apartment and tell her what’s missing,” Willow says to me. “And I have an appointment after, so…”

Sunday. Way too fucking early to even consider getting out of bed.

We spent almost the whole day in bed yesterday.

Which is why I’m blinking at her blearily, still naked.

Is there a way to entice her back?

“So I’ll see you later,” she says.

I watch the sway of her ass, clad in black jeans and looking smoking hot, as she walks right out my door.

Bummer.

Less than two minutes later, the front door slams and my car starts up. I rub my hand over my face and fight my smile. But after a second, it wins out.

She’s still driving my car. And while she says she doesn’t love me, we’re making progress. She kissed me, and I thought my heart was going to explode. Just replaying it, it might still happen.

I’m practically giddy on my way to the bathroom, where I shower, brush my teeth, and try to ignore the memory of us fucking. I need to get to the stadium. Blue Jay and I have a long-standing workout time blocked off in our schedule, and I’m running late.

Knox and Erik are downstairs on the couch. The sight of Erik is so jarring, I stop mid-step.

“What are you doing here?” I blurt out.

Erik looks over his shoulder at me, grinning. “Hey, little Whiteshaw. Your brother and I are taking a drive down to Boston soon. Want to come with us?”

I shake my head slowly. “What’s in Boston?”

Knox shifts in his seat. He shoots Erik a look, then hops up. “An open recruitment.”

“For…?”

“Don’t be obtuse,” he snaps. “This is my shot for the NHL.”

“You have recruiters at almost every game,” I point out. “Coach is always showing off the golden trio. And you think you won’t make it?”

The golden trio being Coach’s personal favorites—Knox, Greyson, and Steele. The ones he thinks have the best chance of going pro.

“I don’t know, dude, but I’ve got to try.” Knox’s expression turns imploring. “You’re going to want to take those same opportunities next year. Trust me.”

I grunt. I’ve always known that my career might be coming to an end after college. Do I want to face that? No, especially not right now. But being realistic means seeing the big picture. And that is that for every five players on the ice, there’s only one goalie. And just as many candidates for those spots.

They take the best of the best.

I’m good. I won’t lie about that. But sometimes I worry that I’ll get passed over.

Hockey is in my blood, and I know it’s in my brother’s. So I slap his hand and hug him, patting his back hard enough to jar him.

“You’ll kill it,” I say in his ear.

He laughs, then shoves me away. The cocky smile is back, his ego roaring. “Yeah, I know.”

Since Willow has my car, I lace up my sneakers and jog to meet Blue Jay. We should consider just shortening his nickname to BJ. Kind of goes hand in hand with Blue Balls anyway. My lungs expand, and I quicken my pace. I slip buds in my ears and tap to activate Willow’s phone’s microphone, because I want to know what she’s saying to that detective.

There’s nothing for a few minutes. A scratching that must be the phone moving in Willow’s pocket or purse. Footsteps, mumbled words I can’t make out.

“Are you Detective Barrister?” Willow’s voice comes through loud and suddenly clear.

Did she take out her phone?

“Yes. Willow?”

“Nice to meet you,” my girl says.

My gut tightens. I should’ve gone with her.

“Let’s go up,” the detective says.

I get to the stadium and slip in through a side door, heading straight to the gym on the lower level. It’s worse reception down here, but whatever. I spot Greyson and Violet working out together in the corner, both running on the treadmill. My cheeks are frozen from the wind, and it reminds me of what I did to Willow.

Guilt laces through me.

“Hey, man,” BJ calls.

I nod my greeting and follow him to the mats in the far corner. We do a range of calisthenics and cardio, stretching… He’s got earbuds in, too, so I don’t feel too bad keeping mine in and eavesdropping on Willow’s conversation.

There’s a tinkling, like scraping of glass across the floor.

“You said there was another break-in?” Willow asks.

I suck in a sharp breath.

“Yes,” the detective answers. Her voice is softer, perhaps farther away. “Unfortunately, the woman was home at the time.”

Willow doesn’t reply.

“She’s in the hospital.”

“Oh, gosh. Is she… will she be okay?”

“You okay, dude?” BJ waves his hand in front of my face.

I jerk, then slap his fucking hand away. “Fine,” I grit out.

“You were just standing there, staring at the wall like you were zoning out—”

“Just thinking,” I mutter.

“…brain damage,” the detective is saying.

I grab some weights and put them beside a mat. We go through our warm-up, and soon I’m breathing as hard as I imagine Willow is. The same asshole who broke into her apartment broke into someone else’s—and that woman wasn’t spared any pain.

“Wow,” Willow murmurs. “That’s so scary.”

“As you can imagine, it’s hard for us to tell if there was an actual robbery. Since our second victim isn’t able to give us any information, and her apartment was badly vandalized. Did you recover your electronics, expensive items? Things of that nature?”

“I have my laptop. It was in my bag, I think Miles grabbed it and some clothes when the officers were here.” Silence, then, “I don’t think anything else was taken. Is that a bad sign?”

“It could indicate that the perpetrator broke in for a different reason. And it was only luck that you weren’t home…”

I’m going to be sick.

The detective clears her throat. I think it’s her, anyway, because she has a nasally voice. And she continues speaking like she didn’t just traumatize Willow.

“Have you noticed anything unusual? Did you have any altercations with anyone leading up to the break-in?”

“Don’t say it,” I mutter.

“What’s that?” BJ calls.

I wave him off.

“Well…” Willow makes a noise. “There was a guy who was messing with me at Prime, but nothing came of it. We left, and that was that.”

“Hmm,” the detective says.

I don’t like her fucking tone.

But also—Willow better not fucking say another word. She and I both know it isn’t him—he’s packed in Steele’s family’s meat freezer, for fuck’s sake. If the detective goes down that road, she won’t replace any trace of him.

“I’m sorry, Detective, I’ve got to get to an appointment. I can come another time? Nothing is jumping out at me.”

“Of course, Ms. Reed. Thank you for your time. Do you mind if I look around further?”

Willow pauses. “Um, actually, I’d like to lock up. Give my landlord some peace of mind.”

“Naturally.”

I grit my teeth until I hear the start of the engine that indicates Willow’s in her car. A second later, she’s calling me. I exit the spyware app and answer her call.

“Hey.” My voice comes out strained—but fuck it, I guess we can blame it on my workout. Even though I’ve barely done much to work up a sweat besides my run and the stretching, the lunges… nothing major.

“I’m leaving my apartment,” Willow says. Her voice is a lot more shaken than it was when she spoke to the detective. “Some other girl’s apartment got broken into, and it’s bad. She’s going to be in the hospital for a while. They had to take off part of her skull to relieve the brain swelling…”

“Holy shit.” I missed the extent of that, thanks to BJ. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just glad you were there,” she whispers. “I told her that there was some guy bothering me at the nightclub, but he’s… he’s gone, right?”

“He is,” I confirm. “You’re safe at my house, okay? Do you want to meet me at the arena—”

“I’ve got somewhere to be. But I’ll catch you later, okay?”

Curiosity burns bright in me, even after she hangs up. Maybe I wouldn’t if she wasn’t being secretive about it, but… fuck it, I want to know where she’s going and who she’s meeting.

I hop up from my spot and pull out my earbud. I stop in front of BJ. “Sorry, man, I’ve got to run. See you tomorrow at practice?”

“Yeah.” His eyebrows rise, but he quickly schools his expression into something more chill.

Which is good, because I would hate to rearrange his face for ratting me out to Coach.

He knows it, and I know it.

That’s enough.

I snap my fingers and turn back around. “Oh, and I need your car.”