Break the Ice: An Enemies to Lovers Hockey Romance by Sienne Vega

Author:Sienne Vega [Vega, Sienne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-22T00:00:00+00:00

The entire team’s distracted during our next practice. Seattle PD has once again graced us with their presence. Detective Gomez leads the charge, popping in and out of management offices. His last stop’s Danny Boy Beringer’s. The door doesn’t open again until practice is already up.

Coach Oates briefs us about a couple changes in our lineup for our next game. When he’s not flat out glaring at me, he keeps me in his periphery. Hands stuffed in the pockets of his windbreaker jacket, he shoots me the occasional scolding look as he addresses us.

“Morasca’s out for the foreseeable future,” he says. Then he cuts me another pointed glance. “He’s on a leave of absence ’til he gets better.”

Foley speaks up. “What’s going on with him now?”

“He’d prefer it remain undisclosed. Now hit the showers and give those muscles some rest. Every one of you needs to be in top shape for this season.”

A couple of Morasca’s closest allies glance over in my direction. Apparently, they’re well aware of the truth.

Every last one of them can kiss my ass.

I tear off my helmet, fuming over what’s gone down. I’ve got half a mind to follow them into the locker room and see if they want to settle this with our fists.

The anger follows me into the shower. It’s not until I’m toweling off after that I’m reminding myself even I can’t afford any more fuck ups right now. The investigation into Hawk’s death needs to die down first.

A glance at myself in the mirror tells me I probably need a break from the insanity. Dark circles rim my eyes, and my hair’s gone from unruly to unkempt. Still a face most women would love but marked with unmistakable signs of exhaustion.

No wonder I was extra agitated. I look and feel like fucking shit.

I have been sleeping less. I’ve been spending long hours playing hockey, mixed up in covering tracks, or observing Marisse.

It’s time for a night off. An evening where I’m home instead of fucking around.

I pass through the corridor where Beringer’s office is located. The door’s still closed. Detective Gomez must still be interviewing him. Is it possible the Seattle PD are so incompetent they’re looking at Beringer as a prime suspect?

As if sensing what’s on my mind, Mr. Blackman comes up on my right. He’s walked out of the lobby area leading into Hawk’s old office and spotted me looking at Beringer’s. He flattens a hand over the lapels of his business suit jacket and watches the same door I am.

“Danny’s never learned to play chess. He doesn’t even know how to play checkers.”

I cut Blackman a glance. “He’s acting in Hawk’s stead ’til the board vote on how to proceed.”

“He is,” admits Blackman with a slight smirk. “For now. Beringer’s days are numbered. Don’t be like Beringer, Alpha.”

Blackman walks away first, but I’m gone not long after. If I didn’t give a fuck about Dad and Colt showing concern about my innocence in the Hawk situation, I sure as hell don’t give a fuck about Beringer or Blackman.

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