Besides, a real physical fight would be a relief compared to the pain of the phone call I had just had with my mother.
Elliot stopped two feet away. He glared at me, his shoulders heaving under his hoodie. He had the exact same eye shape as his brother, but the similarities ended right there. Karter’s hazel eyes were always warm, looking at me like I mattered. However, Elliot’s blue-gray stare was entirely guarded, watching me like a stray dog he could not trust.
“My brother.” Elliot’s voice dripped with absolute disbelief. “You and my damn brother! Are you kidding me?”
I held his stare and let a dark, unapologetic smirk surface. “It took you what, three days of avoiding him to find me and state the obvious? Yeah, Elliot. Me and your brother. And I am not going to apologize for it.”
His hands balled into fists. For a second, I thought he was going to swing. Instead, he let out a harsh breath, shook his head, and sat heavily onto the concrete steps.
“I told him to stay away from you,” Elliot muttered, staring out at the dark lot. “I told him guys like you would just drag him right down.”
“You were right,” I said, but I did not sit down next to him. I stayed standing, keeping my distance.
Elliot shifted, resting his elbows on his knees. “Karter is honestly going to try to defend you. He seriously thinks you are going to fight this investigation with him.”
“I am not,” I said flatly.
Elliot looked up, his brow furrowing. “Huh? What?”
“I am signing the withdrawal form tomorrow. I am stepping down. Karter stays right out of it.”
Elliot stared at me, trying to figure out my angle. He probably expected me to use his family name to save my own skin. “You are just quitting?”
“I am surviving, so I’m out,” I corrected him. “Just like you wanted.”
Neither of us said anything for a minute. The wind whipped across the empty lot, biting through my jacket while Elliot just stared at the concrete, as if he were turning the whole thing over in his head.
“Trenton is having a field day in the group chat,” Elliot said, his tone turning disgusted. “He keeps posting these cryptic jokes about taking out the trash. Basically, he’s taking credit for getting you benched.”
My hands curled into fists inside my pockets. Trenton was not even trying to hide it.
“Honest to God, he thinks he is untouchable,” Elliot spat, his voice dropping low. “Like he can use my brother as collateral damage just to weed out the guys taking his ice time.” Elliot stood back up and brushed the dirt off his track pants. Stepping closer, he got right in my face. “I do not like you, Zotov. I think you are a fucking asshole and a walking disaster.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I replied.
“But I hate being played even more,” Elliot said. “Trenton thinks he runs this team. But I am going to remind him who actually wears the captain’s letter.”
“You are going after him?”
“I am handling my locker room,” Elliot corrected. He pointed a finger at me. “You just focus on keeping your distance from Karter. Do not make this harder on him than it already is.”
“I am leaving tonight,” I told him.
Elliot gave a stiff, single nod. He turned around and walked back to his SUV without another word. He was not offering to save me, and we were definitely not friends. But he was not going to let Trenton burn the whole house down either.
The walk back to the Ice House was a cold, miserable blur. I took the wooden stairs two at a time, ignoring the loud creaks as I climbed them. Pushing into my room, I grabbed my beat-up duffel bag from the closet and tossed it onto my bed.
I did not have much to begin with, so packing took almost no time. Hoodies, jeans, my skates. I shoved it all in and yanked the metal zipper shut.
As I threw the strap over my shoulder, I took one last look around. There was absolutely nothing left to prove that I had ever lived here. Just a bare mattress and a few stray dust bunnies.
My plan was simple. Carry my bag down the back stairs, walk straight to the bus station, and disappear before the sun came up. I did not want a prolonged goodbye. I simply needed to get the hell out of this house before my resolve cracked.
Yet before I could even take a step toward the hallway, the doorknob rattled, and the door flew open, hitting the wall with a loud smack.
Karter shoved his way inside and immediately slammed the door shut behind him, twisting the lock. He was breathing hard, his hair a complete mess, as if he had been running his hands through it nonstop. His gaze dropped to the duffel bag, and whatever he saw on my face confirmed what he already knew.
“What the hell is this?” Karter asked, pointing a shaking finger at the mattress.
