Page 79 of Pucked Around and Found Out

I wall off all my emotions, locking them away in the dark place where I keep everything that makes me weak.

If she does what I think she will when she arrives, she'll confirm it without even meaning to.

And then I'll have to destroy her.

The fact that Patrick hasn't checked in is a neon fucking sign. Men I brought in and trust were tasked with following some of the others, I didn’t know for sure who it was but now? I do.

I slide to a stop when I hear the door to the rink open.

I look over to see Toren walking in with her lap dog and his twin flanking her on either side like bodyguards.

The sight of Carnage instantly makes rage boil in my veins. I want to fucking obliterate his face, tear his skin from his bones, hear him scream and beg for mercy.

But I need to focus.

I glide toward center ice where there's a stack of pucks waiting. I place my stick in front of me and rest my arms over it, placing my chin on top—appearing casual and relaxed even though every muscle in my body is coiled tight.

She approaches the entrance to the ice. When Cas motions for her to step onto it, he holds his arm out, blocking Beavis and Butt-Head from following.

“Where she goes, I go,” Carnage hisses, his voice low and dangerous.

“Read the room, man.” Cas's tone is almost pitying. “You may have men posted outside, but they won't be able to get in here fast enough to save you from a bullet.”

Carnage ignores the warning and looks to Toren instead. She forces a smile that doesn't reach her eyes and nods.

“I'll be okay,” she reassures him, though her voice wavers.

She steps onto the ice carefully, and Cas follows on his skates. He grips her arm and leads her across, bringing her to a stop in front of me.

There's at least five feet between us.

No one knows what the pucks are for. I made sure to keep that to myself.

I want them all surprised when they realize what I have planned.

“Where's Masen, Tink?” I start with an easy question, keeping my voice neutral.

I want her calm. Relaxed. She has her guard up and I need her to let it down so I can get a clear read.

Because if this goes the way I think it will...

I'll give in to the darkness completely. I'll let it consume me. And I won't be able to claw my way back to the surface a second time.

She darts her tongue out to moisten her lips, a nervous tell I've catalogued and filed away.

“You lied to me,” she states, her tone accusatory.

I quirk an eyebrow. “About?”

“You never burned Walter House.”

I keep the shock from showing on my face, but internally, I'm reeling.

“He's at Walter House?” I ask carefully.

She swallows hard and nods.

I look to my right where I know Andrade is stationed and give him a single nod. He taps Kyro and Jett on the shoulders, and the three of them stalk out of the rink to go collect that slimy little cunt and drag him back here.