Brutal Obsession: A Dark Hockey Romance (Hockey Gods)

Knox meets me on the sidewalk, his hood over his head and his hands in his pockets. He raises an eyebrow, but we don’t speak until he’s in my passenger seat and we’re well away from the house.

We go toward the point. The cliff that the hockey team jumped off of months ago. I was just out here with my father, at the restaurant that overlooks the lake.

“You gonna loop me in?” he finally asks.

“Jack Michaels.”

He turns toward me. “What about him?”

“He tried to rape Violet.”

Knox is silent.

I don’t know if that’s what he would’ve actually done. If that’s how far he would’ve gone. But I’m assuming it is—after all, why drug her? Why go to those lengths?

My grip tightens on the wheel. “He’s in the bed.”

Of my truck, I mean.

Knox cranes around, but it’s too dark. We’re on a road without streetlights. Besides, I hogtied Jack and bound him to a few cinder blocks. A tarp covers him. It won’t suffocate him, but he’s probably cold.

February hasn’t lightened up on us. Weather-wise.

Which works in our favor tonight.

“What’s the play?”

I smile. “We’re going to make him regret ever coming to Crown Point.”

He nods slowly. “Sending mixed messages, aren’t you?”

“Because of that press release?” I glance over, then back to the road. “She’s mine. That hasn’t changed. It’s just public perception. A necessary evil, if you ask me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“We both denied our involvement with each other,” I say. Not sure why I have to explain it, but there’s a compulsion there. For my friend to understand. “It’s not us. It’s everyone else who will care. My dad, her mom…”

“Because of your past,” Knox guesses.

“Something like that.”

“Lot of smoke-and-mirrors shit going on around here.” He heaves a sigh. “Whatever. I don’t really give a fuck as long as we win our game next week. Which means ensuring Jackie boy here doesn’t get us kicked off the team.”

I nod. “I know.”

“So… I’ll ask again, what’s the play? The actual plan, Devereux. Don’t bullshit me. We going to scare him? We going to blackmail him?”

I lift one shoulder. He’ll get the idea when we get there.

We ride the rest of the way in silence. I don’t get the vibe that Knox is against this. More like he’s anticipating it. He’s as bloodthirsty as me. My only regret is that Violet isn’t here to witness this. But with the drug in her system, she wouldn’t be awake for it.

She wouldn’t remember it either.

She might not even remember me being there.

Which is for the best .

The glow of the restaurant is visible, and then we go down a short decline in the road, and it disappears. This is where most people jump from, since technically cliff jumping is against the rules. It’s a secret thing here in Crown Point, initiation bundled with the thrill of something illegal-adjacent. You’re not going to be arrested, but you will be scolded if they catch you.

To some, that’s the same thing.

We park on a gravel shoulder and hop out. I reach into the bed and tap the tarp. Jack flinches under it, then jerks against his binds. A muffled yell comes out of the lump.

Knox, across from me, raises his eyebrows.

I shrug. I pull the tailgate down and flip the tarp off him. He stares at us, completely wide-eyed, and I grin at him. I climb up beside him and flick my knife out. He squirms, trying to get away from me, but the rope and cinder blocks hold him firm.

I slice through the cord that binds his legs and arms to the concrete, then jump down. Knox and I each grab a leg and haul him out. He falls to the gravel in a heap.

“Ready?” I ask Knox.

He meets my eyes, and his brow lowers. I’m asking him to trust me—and in turn, I’m trusting him. We’ll be in this together.

After seeming to mull it over, he grins. I knew I read him right.

We lift Jack by his arms. His feet drag between us, still bound, and he makes a few attempts to get free from us. Finally, we reach the edge of the cliff.

We throw him to the ground, and I open my knife again. I lean down and trace it along his throat. His Adam’s apple bobs with his harsh swallow.

The fear is real now. I think he’s finally getting it through his thick skull.

It isn’t as intoxicating as Violet’s fear.

At the thought of Violet, my chest tightens. Rage goes through me when I look at him—at what he almost did to her.

I peel the tape off his mouth. There’s blood crusted on the corner of his lip and his nose from where I decked him in Violet’s room. He’s got a black eye forming, too, and a half-moon-shaped bruise on the bone on the outside of his eye socket.

He spits into the dirt beside him. “What—”

“Shut up,” I hiss. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to tell me—in excruciating detail—what you planned to do to Violet Reece.”

He stares at me for a moment. I wonder what she ever saw in him, because all I see is poison.

“And if I don’t?”

I let him see how devoid of emotion I truly am. It’s easy to let the veil drop sometimes. I let out my demons around Violet—in the gym, in the woods—and on the ice, occasionally. When we’re hard-pressed for a win and there’s no other options. Becoming something people fear just adds another layer to my personality.

Two parts charm, one part insanity.

And a powerful family name to boot.

I give him a smile. The sort that feels crazy—and must look it, by the way his eyes widen. “If you don’t, I’ll break your fucking legs and make sure you never touch a football again.”

He falls backward. “You wouldn’t. You—”

“I what?” I grip his throat and yank him toward me, until we’re eye to eye. “I’m the worst monster you’ve ever come across, asshole.” I toss my phone to Knox. “Film it.”

I release Jack and step back, leaving him lying on the ground. He swallows and pushes himself up. The flashlight comes on, illuminating his face, and he gulps again. His eyes dance around, like he’s trying to come up with a good enough lie.

A good enough excuse.

But here’s the thing: there is no such thing.

He wanted to take what’s mine. He wanted to hurt her in the worst way he could think of. He wanted to steal and take and destroy her. But she has a meaner, scarier, crazier stalker.

Me.

And I’ll protect her with every breath in my body.

“I went to her apartment after I saw the press release.” His eyes lose focus, like he’s remembering. Or fabricating.

I glance over at Knox, whose brows are drawn together.

“I have a prescription to help me sleep. I brought some with me and crushed them up to put in her drink. It took a little while for it to hit her. I didn’t even have to force her to her bedroom—she walked there on her own two feet.” He looks up at me, his eyes dry. Not a speck of remorse. “I was going to fuck her, and I was going to video it and send it to you.”

Me .

I narrow my eyes and gesture for him to keep talking.

He does. “I’ve been dating Violet forever. She’s been by my side for the past three years.”

I make a face. “Technically, she broke up with you six months ago.”

“And then you come crashing into her life,” he continues as if I hadn’t interrupted, “and suddenly she wants nothing to do with me.” He kicks at the dirt, inching himself backward. “I fucking hate her for that. It’s a betrayal. She just left me? No.”

I tilt my head. “You wanted to win her back?”

He laughs. “I fucking tried to mess with her head like you do. Especially after that video of her blowing me was posted. But instead of reacting like she does to you , she just… was done with me.”

My lips twist. Of course she was just done with him. She was done with him months ago, it sounds like. He just wasn’t ready to face the music.

“You messed with her how?”

Jack’s expression turns pained. “Come on, man.”

“Did you know she was too drunk to remember when you stuck your dick in her mouth outside Haven?” I clench my fists, then force myself to release them.

He just laughs. “And you bet I saw you filming it, jackass.”

I motion to Knox to cut the video. The light dies, shrouding Jack in darkness again. Knox tosses my phone back to me. I watch it through, listening carefully to make sure we get all of his words, and cut off the last part where he mentions my involvement. It’s irrelevant, anyway.

“Wait here,” I say to Knox.

He inclines his chin.

I stride back to my truck. What I want to do and what I have to do are two very different things. I want to tie him to the cinder blocks in the bed of my truck and shove him over the side of the cliff.

I can’t do that. Murder is a bit too far, even for me.

Instead, I find the crowbar in my backseat and heft it in my hand. When I return, Jack is pleading with Knox. He’s crawled forward again, farther away from the drop-off, and he stares up at Knox like my friend will save him.

He won’t.

“This is strictly business,” I inform Jack.

His attention switches to me, but it’s too late to stop me. Or to get away. I’m set on my mission, the fury under my blood hot and demanding revenge.

I raise the crowbar. The weight is solid in my hand, my grip sure. I swing it up over my head. I relish the expression of horror that crosses his face. And the acknowledgement that he can’t stop me. For a perfect moment, we’re all frozen. And then I slam it down on his knee.