Page 178 of Play Dirty

I slid the tablet under my arm, my eyes drifting once more to the upper level. Empty now.

But it didn’t feel empty.

It felt… watched.

Behind me, the guys filtered off the ice in pieces — laughter here, muttered plans there, energy that hadn’t burned off so much as shifted direction.

Ares would want something physical.

Sebastian would want something loud.

And Grayson—

Grayson would want to steer it. Shape it. Keep it from tipping too far in any one direction.

I exhaled slowly.

As for me? I wanted answers.

About Sutherland.

About Rourke.

About the way everything that had just started going right suddenly felt like it had drawn attention.

Not from the league. Not from the crowd.

From somewhere… higher.

Two days. That’s all we had. Two days before the Sentinels.

Two days before we found out whether the run was real—

Or whether someone was going to try and take it away from us.

I turned and headed for the tunnel, falling into step with the rest of them.

Whatever came next?

We weren’t walking into it blind anymore.

~ 51 ~

HAVEN

The bar was loud.

Not just music loud — team loud. Voices over voices, glasses slamming wood, someone shouting across the room like they were still on the ice and not five beers deep.

Mercer’s warnings aside—

This was exactly what they needed.

Steam blow off. Release. And maybe… a little bit of trouble.

I stood just inside the doorway for a second, taking it all in. The Reavers had already taken over half the place. Ares was at the bar, leaning in like he owned it. Sebastian was laughing at something Zack said, which probably meant it was stupid or dangerous.

Or both.