Secret Obsession: A Dark Hockey Romance (Hockey Gods)

I should be scared. But all I feel is numb.

Does that make me a bad person?

After leaving my apartment, I climbed in my car and just started driving. I end up at the Point that Crown Point is named after. The restaurant just up the hill a little way, the one that offers spectacular views on a clear day, is closed. The clock on my dash informs me that it’s eight fifty-two, which is entirely too early after being out last night. And… drugged. But the breakfast places will be packed at this hour. Classes start tomorrow, and Sunday brunch is a popular thing for college students.

If only I was hungry.

What I should do is call the police. It’s probably bad that I haven’t already done it.

My phone rings. I glance down at it, my brow furrowing when I spot Amanda’s name. She graduated last year, but she’s been assisting our coach for the dance team. She kind of had a personality transplant when Aspen came on the scene… probably because she thought she and Steele were endgame.

She was proven wrong pretty fast.

It seems weird to have to talk to her after witnessing what Miles just did. But maybe it would be better to ground myself in something normal, so I accept the call.

“Morning!” My voice is fake chipper.

“Willow, hi!” There’s the same fakeness in Amanda’s voice.

Which banishes the numbness and instead puts snakes in my gut.

“What’s up?”

She sighs. “I’m sorry for calling so early. I just wanted to catch you before the beginning of the semester…”

My brow furrows, but I don’t respond. I don’t know what the correct response is.

“Listen, we’ve decided that the dance team needs to condense. It’s nothing personal, but—”

“Wait.” I lean forward and grip the steering wheel. “What are you saying?”

“You’re out.” Her voice is flat now, with no sign of fake cheer. “I’m sorry, Willow, but there’s a lot riding on us this year. And you’re just not keeping up.”

I scoff. “You’re kidding.”

But she doesn’t respond, and it sinks in that she’s not. I shift, my mouth opening and closing.

I banish the anxiety winding through me at the thought of having to face all my friends, who are all on the dance team. Well, except Violet. She got out at the right time, I guess.

“You’re fucking serious?” I ask, just… I don’t know, to dig the knife in deeper?

Too soon, Willow.

“I’m so sorry,” Amanda says. “This was a really tough decision—”

“And my breakup with Knox had nothing to do with it.”

Silence.

My jaw drops at her inability to even deny it. The fucking audacity of them. Except, I have no idea if that’s a Knox thing, a Miles thing, or a… a… I don’t know who. A dance team thing? Did they rally together to kick me out? Did they think I’d be depressed? Or an embarrassment? We’ve already confirmed that I’ve been made out to be a fool.

Bitches.

I hang up on her and throw my phone into the passenger seat. I open my door and step out into the parking lot. The snow crunches under my boots, but it doesn’t deter me from taking the narrow path to the Point.

Violet and I jumped off it last summer with Greyson and Knox and Miles. Of course Miles was there, his stare on me so fucking heavy all the time. It’s not like I didn’t notice him. And it’s not like he didn’t make himself… noticed. But what was I supposed to do?

Who wants to date in college?

Who wants to settle down in school? To have to be accountable to someone other than myself? I know that sounds fucking selfish, it feels selfish. But I was nineteen, then twenty. I turned twenty-one over the summer, and it’s only added to the untethered feeling.

I just want to feel something.

So, I stand on the Point’s ledge, with the freezing wind whipping powdery snow up around me, and spread my arms out wide.

I just want to be free.

Far below, the surface of the lake is frozen solid. A fall—or jump—at this height would probably break my legs. Or worse. I lean forward and peer down, but it’s all just a haze of white.

A car pulls into the parking lot, but I don’t lower my arms. Not until footsteps draw closer, and my best friend comes up beside me. Not quite as close to the edge, but close enough to reach me.

As predicted, she grabs my arm and tows me backward.

I tear my gaze from the endless abyss and face her, stumbling with her until we’re not in danger of tumbling off the Point.

“What happened?” Violet pulls a tissue from her pocket and swipes at my face.

Bile rises in my throat.

The blood from Miles’ hand…

Oh God, I didn’t wash it off.

“Miles,” I manage, and then I stagger sideways. I fall to my knees and throw up in the snow. In a weird way, the purge feels good. Like I’m getting rid of everything from last night and this morning.

But puking doesn’t eradicate the images that flash behind my eyelids.

“What did Miles do?” Violet asks, gathering my hair back.

It barely fits in a little ponytail at the nape of my neck, so I usually have to get creative. Nothing I had time for this morning.

“He—” I press my lips together. “I can’t go back to my apartment.”

She takes in my expression and nods once. Her hand under my elbow helps me rise, and we go to her car. Fuck my car and my phone, they feel as complicit in my guilt as me. Which makes no sense, but I also don’t object to leaving both there. Violet snatches the keys from my ignition and locks it, then shepherds me to her passenger door.

Greyson bought her a car, a light-gray—ha, get it?—SUV with all-tinted windows. Good in the snow, so she says. Not that we’ve had much opportunity to test that out. Seems like Crown Point was holding its breath on getting snow until January, and now it’s dumping on us.

Anyway. Better than my little sucker that likes to fishtail at any opportunity.

I buckle up and pull down the visor, sucking in a breath at the sheer amount of drying blood on my face. It’s across my mouth, my cheekbone. My throat. The handprint where Miles clapped his palm across my lips is impossible to miss.

“Whatever happened…” Violet eyes me and restarts her car. “It’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, settling in. “I doubt it.”

She clicks on my heated seat, and we head back toward town. The house she’s renting with Greyson isn’t terribly far from my apartment. I point for her to take my street, and we slow roll by my house. It’s a duplex. The landlord, a hard-of-hearing old lady, is in the first-floor apartment, and the second is all mine.

I expected police cars at the very least. Yellow crime scene tape.

But there’s nothing.

“Are you okay?” Violet asks.

I laugh. “Not even slightly.”

Greyson’s truck is gone when we get to her house. She leads me inside and straight upstairs to the bathroom, where she sets a clean towel on the counter and peels my coat off my body.

“Take your time. I’ll make coffee.”

There’s something about a cleansing, boiling-hot shower to set a girl’s mind right. I scrub my face extra-hard, and my skin stings by the time I’m satisfied. Violet must’ve come back in at some point, because there’s a stack of clothes waiting for me.

Downstairs, Violet is tucked on the couch with a show playing on low volume. She sets down her phone and eyes me.

“Is CPU going to be a problem?”

I roll my eyes. “It’ll only be a problem if Miles makes it one.”

Violet sighs. “I really just don’t understand why they all kept the bet a secret—”

“I can’t do this,” I interrupt. “Sorry, I just…”

It hurt. Like, actually. A knife in my throat. I don’t tell people I love them. Maybe jokingly, but not for real. Not in an I’m in love with you sort of way. It took me six months to fall for Knox, and another six to work up the nerve to actually tell him. And look what happened! It blew up in my face.

I grab the mug of coffee she poured me and take it into her kitchen. After a minute of scouring their liquor cabinet, I find the whiskey. I add it to my coffee and take a sip, then add some more. What the hell, right?

When the warmth has climbed through my chest, I return to Violet. There’s no use telling her exactly what happened. Miles just killed someone in my apartment, and I left him there. I let it happen. But eventually, it’ll be discovered. No, it needs to be discovered. I just need to call the police and have Miles arrested.

Picturing Miles in a jail cell sends me into a weird spiral all its own. Because I feel guilty even considering turning him in. What would I do if I sent him away for life?

The less Violet knows, the better.

“You okay?”

A repeat of her previous question. I think she’s hopeful that my answer will have changed. But the truth of the matter is, I don’t know how I could possibly ever be okay again.

I reach over and grip her hand. No matter what I do, I lose. “Promise me you’ll still be my friend when the whole world blows up in my face.”

She squeezes my fingers. “Babe, you stuck with me when Greyson did his worst. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay, good,” I mumble, taking another big gulp of my coffee. “Because I have a feeling Miles is just getting started.”