Page 72 of Callous Shot

Daniel’s words from my uncle’s house came back to me. “Speaking of the ice, can you stop sending your creepy undercover detectives to my games? It’s really off-putting.”

If the man was here again, then that had to mean that Operation Foxglove were already investigating either Daniel or one or more of his teammates. I wasn’t sure how many of them were involved in criminal gangs or part of the crime families, but I was betting that at least half of the team were connected in one way or another.

My phone was burning a hole in my pocket, my father’s latest text sitting at the top of my messages list, unanswered.

Dad:

You’re running out of time. Do not let me down. You know the consequences.

If the man was working with my uncle, then he might be aware of who I was. I was dressed similarly to him, with my cap pulled down low and my hood covering my head, but even so, I wasn’t naive enough to think it would disguise me if he got a proper look at my face.

Still, that wouldn’t stop me from gathering all the information I could. When the buzzer sounded, I made my way to the bar for a pint. The plastic pint glass would give me something to do with my hands, as well as help to hide my face when I lifted it. When I was back in my spot, perched on a stool in the corner with my pint balanced on the narrow wooden ledge in front of me, I spoke.

“Kings fan?”

The man huffed out a breath. “Of a sort.”

“Yeah? Have you caught many of their games this season?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head. “Just visiting the area.”

“Lancashire?” I guessed, and his head whipped around to mine. I quickly lifted my pint to my lips, ducking my head so my face was in shadow. Shit. I couldn’t allow him to get suspicious.

A leather-gloved finger tapped the wooden ledge next to me, and I stared down at it. “Good guess,” the man said softly, warily, and I gulped a mouthful of beer, willing my hand not to shake.

I’d never been more thankful for the second period to begin, and as other spectators filed back into the area around us, I exhaled.

But throughout the rest of the game, when I managed to tear my gaze away from Daniel, I glanced over at the man next to me, cataloguing what I could about him. He was a threat to my—my nemesis. The saying “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” wasn’t true. Not in this case.

I had to find a way to satisfy my dad and keep the people who were important to me safe. And that included my enemy, because a world without Daniel Hoyton to antagonise me would be a dull place indeed.

In the third period, I temporarily forgot about my worries when one of the Cambridge players cross-checked Daniel and he went down hard. My fists clenched as the people around me muttered angrily, only appeased when the player received a two-minute penalty. I watched with my heart in my throat, planning how I’d make the Cambridge player pay for hurting him, but eventually, he rose to his feet, baring his teeth in a cocky smile as he bowed and waved to the crowd.

Dickhead. I couldn’t stop myself grinning.

The man next to me huffed out a laugh. “Bit of a showman that one, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” I murmured, still smiling as Daniel fist-bumped Kane before storming down the ice, deking around the players coming at him, and sending the puck straight into the net between the goalie’s legs. Spinning on autopilot, I lifted my hand for a high five with the man, and as he lifted his own arm, his sleeve dropped back to reveal a sliver of skin, shiny and discoloured. Then my gaze dipped lower to where his hoodie was slightly open, and my stomach jolted. Was that a weapons holster?

Spinning back to face the rink as quickly as I could, I sucked in a shaky breath. Everything about this detective screamed danger, and I needed to warn Daniel.

Fumbling with my phone, I angled the screen away from the man, tapping out a quick message.

Me:

Meet me after. Emergency

“Well, well, well, this is an unexpected surprise. Lincoln Bellingham, here at my game. Couldn’t stay away from me, huh? Did I dick you down that good?”

“Shut up.” Slamming my hand over Daniel’s annoying mouth, I yanked him into the shadows around the back of the rink. Twisting my cap around so it was on backwards, I pressed him up against the wall and placed my mouth to his ear. Despite the danger, I was only a man, and breathing in Daniel’s freshly showered skin while my body was pressed up against his and he was sliding his hands down my back… It took every single bit of discipline and self-control I possessed to not rut up against him, get my fingers around his throat, and kiss him until he lost his breath.

Lowering my hand from his mouth, I brushed my lips over his ear, because my self-control apparently only extended so far. He exhaled shakily, all his cockiness melting away as he wrapped his arms around my back, nuzzling into the side of my throat. “Hi.”

I froze for a second, unsure what to do with this version of my enemy, but after a second, I realised that I liked it. A lot.

Ignoring the alarm bells blaring at the realisation, I drew back. “Dan. I need you to listen carefully.”

Instantly on alert, he lifted his head, studying me with his brows pulled together. “What’s wrong?”