“Okay.” Luke raises one hand, the other still gripping his stick. “Okay. It’s her fault. I get it. But you want me, right? I’m the one you really want to hurt.”
Lana hesitates. I feel it in the tension of her arm, the slight shift of her weight.
“Joey talked about you,” she says. “How you were the golden boy. How everything came easy. How you got Madeline without trying.” Her voice hardens. “I hated you for that. Both of you.”
“Then let her go,” Luke says, taking a step closer. If Lana thinks Luke won’t hit her, she’s dead ass wrong. “And take me instead.”
That’s not happening. This bitch isn’t taking my man, and I’m over playing nice with her.
My hand closes around the skate I never put down.
When I took my skates off earlier, I quickly shoved my feet into my sneakers without lacing them. I carried my skates outhere with me. Now the blade sits in my palm. Maybe a part of me knew in the back of my mind I’d need them.
I don’t think about it for another second. I just move.
I drive the toe pick into her thigh—hard. Lana screams, her arm jerking away from my throat, the knife clattering to the pavement. I don’t stop. I bring my knee up into her stomach, then shove her backward with every ounce of strength I have.
She hits the ground, skidding on the concrete, and I kick the knife away.
“Madeline!” Luke is there, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me back.
Now that she’s on the ground, wide-eyed and terrified, all that crazy bravado is gone. The urge to pounce is strong.
“Madeline.” Luke’s hand is on my waist, gentle but firm. “Baby, don’t.”
I hold Lana’s gaze for three long seconds. Then I step back. I won’t let her turn me into her.
Lana doesn’t move. She’s crying now, ugly sobs that shake her whole body. “You don’t understand. I loved him. I did everything for him.”
“Yeah,” I say, wiping the blood from my neck with the back of my hand. “And look where that got you.”
The arena door bangs open again—Bennett this time, then Grant, then Georgia, all of them pouring out and taking in the scene.
Lana is on the ground, sobbing, me standing over her with a skate in my hand and blood on my neck. Luke is wrapped around me like he’s never letting go.
“She killed Murphy,” I say, loud enough for all of them to hear. “She confessed.”
Bennett pulls out his phone, already dialing. Grant moves to block Lana’s escape route, though she’s not trying to runanymore. She’s curled into herself, muttering Joey’s name over and over like a prayer that’ll never be answered.
Georgia rushes to me. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s just a scratch,” I say, leaning into Luke and letting him take my weight. “I’m fine.”
“You’re insane,” he whispers against my hair, but his arms are tight, possessive, and proud. “You just took down a murderer with a figure skate.”
“She was trying to take my man.” I tilt my head back to look at him. “What was I supposed to do?”
He laughs—shaky but relieved. Then he kisses me, hard. “It was a little hot, not going to lie,” he says against my mouth.
“You’re impossible,” I laugh.
“I’m whatever you need me to be, Buttercup.” He kisses my forehead.
Luke really is whatever I need even when he’s pushing back. I stand there, Luke’s warm hand engulfing mine, a grounding force I didn’t know I needed or longed for.
I came to Kingmakers unsure of where my life was going or my plans for what was next. I’d felt a little lost and alone, still dealing with that ache of not being able to save my dad from himself. A fear that I could end up like him if I ever let myself love the way he’d loved Mom.
I’ve always been the girl who’s fine. The one that can handle it alone, never wanting to be a burden, but with Luke, that isn’t there. I know he wants me to lay everything I have onto him, and he’ll gladly eat it up.
