Page 8 of Fractured Hearts

“What?”

“Do you know something about that case?” he asks, watching me carefully.

“No. Why would you think that?” I know my voice is steady and my facial expression is blank. I’ve had years to practice it.

“You yelled out ‘Noelle’ in either shock or recognition. Maybe a little of both.”

Sometimes I really hate that Declan isn’t the typical dumb jock stereotype. He’s smart, and he pays attention. It’s part of what makes him such a good hockey player. Honestly, it’s part of what makes him a good friend, too.

“I just knew a Noelle once. Haven’t heard that name in a while.” I shrug, going for nonchalance, but judging from Declan’s narrowed eyes, I’m failing.

“Is that Noelle still alive?”

“I hope so. I haven’t seen her since I was in high school. We dated for a week when I was still trying to be straight.”

Declan snorts. “That went really well for you.”

I smile. “Clearly.”

“Come on. Let’s get dinner. The team is going to that bar that had that weird burger you liked.”

“The peanut butter and jelly burger?” I ask, not masking the excitement in my voice as I follow Declan out the door.

“Fucking disgusting,” he grumbles under his breath.

I shake my head and smile. I’m lucky he sees me as a friend and lets his suspicions die.

six

JO

It’s the last game of the Stanley Cup Finals, and we’re all watching from a private box. Well, everyone aside from Cal and Harlow, who are in hiding somewhere. There’s so much riding on this game. More than there should be with the asinine plan Willa and Declan came up with. Win the cup and the scary boss guy will help save Maverick from his murderous mother. I hate it, but what I hate more is that I couldn’t come up with anything better.

“I should just go find him and ask him to help,” Maverick mutters next to me. He’s been drinking way more than he normally would tonight, and the smell of the alcohol on his breath stings my nose.

“You have nothing to offer him in exchange.”

Maverick sighs and leans closer to me. “After tonight, Ezra will be able to come back, and Eva won’t be a problem anymore. Then we can all live happily ever after.”

I try my best to smile through the pain that statement causes me, and normally Maverick would notice, but the whiskey he’s drinking like water seems to have blurred his vision. Or maybe with Ezra’s return getting closer, he’s losing sight of me altogether.

“I bet you’re excited to have Ezra back,” I say like the masochist I am.

“What if he doesn’t like me anymore?”

I turn towards him and am met with the saddest set of eyes I’ve ever seen. “Why wouldn’t he like you?”

Maverick shrugs. “I’m not . . . I was . . . I used to be . . .” He sighs dramatically and leans his head on my shoulder. “I’m just different.”

“It’s been eight years. No one is the same person they were eight years ago, and they shouldn’t be.” I tilt my head so it’s leaning against his, greedily taking in whatever time I have left with him.

“Maybe not,” he agrees reluctantly.

The game goes on with Willa and Kai screaming terms I don’t understand. Maverick keeps drinking, but he’s at least slowed down some. I know he’s stressed and upset and probably a hundred other emotions, but I’ve never seen him drown them in alcohol.

Too soon, or maybe not soon enough considering the state Maverick is in, Declan’s team wins and the game ends. Willa rushes out of the box to follow security down to the ice. The players’ families are allowed out there to celebrate with them, and Declan invited us, but we all decided it was best to go back home immediately after the game ends.

“Can you help me with him?” I ask Kai as I pull Maverick to his feet. He’s able to stand, but he’s swaying dangerously.