Page 104 of Callous Shot

“Yes, Cap.” I saluted him before skating into position to begin my warm-up drills. I turned, unable to keep my gaze from our opponents any longer…and my eyes connected with Lincoln’s hazel ones across the ice. My heart jolted. He was watching me warily, but I couldn’t help it—a smile tugged at my lips, widening as we held each other’s gaze. After a moment, his mouth tentatively curved upwards, and my entire body came alive. Everything was brighter, clearer, and I could finally breathe.

“Hoyton! You’re not a statue! Move!” Coach boomed, and I tore my gaze away.

Despite knowing what tonight meant for Operation Foxglove, for my family and friends, and for my team, my smile remained.

First line change of the third period, and we were winning 2-0. The Flames seemed out of sorts today, or maybe the Kings were just extra motivated because of our VIP guests.

I threw myself onto the bench, my gaze fixed on the action in the rink as I tipped my bottle to my lips, swishing water around my dry mouth.

“Hoyts.”

“Yeah?” Lowering the bottle, I turned to see Neo jerking his head towards the other end of the rink. I followed his gaze, finding Lincoln watching me with a troubled expression. Telepathic skills would come in handy right now because I couldn’t risk talking to him, not with so many eyes on us. I kept watching him, and he subtly inclined his head.

Alarm bells blared in my ears.

Harold and Cressida Bellingham were here. That in itself wasn’t cause for alarm, but the sight of the man next to Harold was very fucking alarming indeed.

The man who had been at my hockey games. The man I’d thought was a detective.

The man who came back from the dead.

Frank Culverhouse.

Fuck.

Twisting on the bench, I subtly tapped my fist on the glass, trying not to draw attention to myself. Liana’s gaze immediately shot to mine, and I did my best to communicate silently. Neil, I mouthed. Bellingham. Emergency.

Her brows pulled together.

“Hoyton! What do you think you are doing?”

Oh, shit. “Uh, sorry, Coach.” I wasn’t trying to flirt with your daughter, I promise. I was trying to communicate an urgent message.

“Don’t even think about looking at my daughter,” he warned, and I glanced over at Kane, flying down the ice with the puck. It wasn’t me that Coach needed to worry about.

“I wasn’t.”

“Good.” He stomped off to the other end of the benches to speak to Ryker, and I quickly glanced up at my family. Liana, the wonderful, amazing human being, was making her way through the stands to Neil. She dipped her head, speaking quietly, and Neil’s gaze shot straight to mine before sliding to the Bellinghams.

His face remained impassive, but I noticed the slight flare of his nostrils when he caught sight of Frank Culverhouse. He immediately returned his gaze to the ice, resting his arms casually on his thighs, but I knew he’d be calculating the situation and hopefully coming up with a plan.

At the next line change, I swept past Ryker and Jay, speaking low and fast. “Culverhouse is here.”

I didn’t have time to wait around for their reactions because we still had the rest of the third period to play, and we needed to hold the line.

And that included putting on the performance of my life for Harold Bellingham, because I couldn’t risk him even catching a hint that there was anything other than mutual loathing between me and his son. Up until this point, I hadn’t been as aggressive as I normally would be with Lincoln, not trusting my own reactions around him, but now I deliberately glided into his line of sight, goading him.

It was fucking fun, antagonising my favourite rival.

“I thought the defence was meant to defend. Yet here we are with three goals, and how many do the Flames have? Zero.”

Lincoln’s lip curled, his eyes sparkling. “You better shut your mouth, Hoyton, before I shut it for you.”

I smirked. “Fucking try it. I dare you.” Deking around him, I sailed past the Whelford player desperately trying to reach me. Jay sent the puck towards me in a perfectly timed move, and my stick connected with it, slapping it straight into the net.

Fist-pumping the air, I grinned at the crowd before catching Lincoln’s eye as I circled the goal, giving him the middle finger. He gave me a look that promised retribution, and I couldn’t wait. I cocked my head, and two seconds later, a large body was barrelling into me, slamming me up against the boards.

I fucking loved his violence, and although the layers of padding between us stopped me from feeling the full deliciousness of him, his body against mine was everything, hot, sweaty, and sexy as fuck. I’d missed him so much.