“You don’t remember what happened that night?”
I shrug. “No. I remember Jack waiting for me when I got home, and the next thing I know, I woke up feeling like garbage. Willow and I pieced together that something happened, but…”
“I came into your room to find him…” Greyson’s jaw tics, and he visibly has to wrestle himself under control. “He was about to make a choice that would’ve ended a lot differently for him if I had arrived five minutes later.”
I shudder.
“I knocked him out, put you to bed, and took him to the point. He needed to know that touching you would have consequences.”
“And you broke his knee?”
He sneers. “He got off easy.”
“After hearing that? Yeah, he did.”
He steals a kiss from my lips. It’s quick, there and then gone, but his smile is back. “See? You’re as bloodthirsty as me. Another reason why I love you.”
I freeze. “Love?” I choke out.
He grimaces. “Not romantic enough? Fine. I’ll tell you in other ways… tonight. After my hat trick.” He puts his lips next to my ear. “I’m looking forward to seeing you naked on our kitchen table.”
45
VIOLET
Here’s the thing about hockey: it’s fucking brutal.
Fights are legal, for the most part. As in, unless it’s extreme, you’re not going to get kicked out of the game. Brawls are an integral part of it.
So when we take our seats in the stadium, the energy is… intense. More so than the regular season games. It thrums through my system like a cranked-up stereo is pressed to my skin. Grey gave the four of us—Willow, Jess, Amanda, and me—better seats. We’re at center ice, right up at the glass. Directly to our left is the penalty box and the Hawks’ bench. If I stand and lean back, I can see the broad-shouldered players.
We’re in the third period, just the start of it, with eighteen minutes left on the clock. The score is two to three, with the other team in the lead. Greyson has scored once, and my heart is in my throat. Two more, and I’ll be at his mercy. Until midnight anyway.
But I think I’ll be at his mercy anyway.
My phone vibrates, and I glance at the screen.
Mom
We need to talk.
I scowl.
Higher above us, Senator Devereux is in attendance with an entourage. They’ve taken over one of the suites. I’ve avoided looking up there—avoided turning around in general, for fear that he’ll see me and the ruse—the one where I stay away from his son—will burst.
My phone goes off again.
Mom
Violet, please. I’m outside the stadium.
She’s… what?
I nudge Willow and show her the two messages.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She scoffs. “No. Just pretend you didn’t see them.”
“Oh my god!” Amanda screeches, grabbing my arm.