Page 181 of Play Dirty

Except this time?

He wasn’t on our team.

A couple of his guys followed behind him — Sentinels. Loud. Confident. Already looking like they were sizing up the room.

Sizing us up.

Sutherland looked taller than he did in the footage I’d watched. His eyes moved across the bar, among the tables, over the crowd. Eventually they landed on us… and stopped.

For a few seconds, no one in either group moved. Then Zack — who was busy packing up the grease-pocket thing into a takeaway container, presumably for later — leaned over and muttered:

“… well, that’s not great timing.”

“No,” I agreed quietly. “It’s not.”

Especially since the moment Sutherland saw us—

He smiled.

Shit.

The opposing goalie immediately bounded over, winding his way through the maze of tables. As he did, Ares leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“Say the word,” he murmured.

Sebastian cracked his knuckles under the table. Grayson finally turned his head.

Their eyes met. Captain to ex-teammate. Truth to lie.

Everything that hadn’t been said hung heavily, in the space between them.

Sutherland didn’t look away, didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow down. If anything, he picked up speed.

Like he wanted this.

Like he’d been waiting for it.

I could feel my heart racing. Not fear, not nerves. Something closer to inevitability.

Ares exhaled through his nose, as Sebastian edged closer toward the end of the booth.

Grayson didn’t move at all. He only watched. There was no hesitation in his eyes. Only decision.

Sutherland finally reached our table. And finally, at long last—

The line between past and present disappeared.

~ 52 ~

HAVEN

Sutherland stopped at the edge of the table. He didn’t sit. Didn’t reach for a chair. He just stood there, looking down at us like he had some kind of claim.

“Captain,” he said finally.

Grayson didn’t respond right away. He leaned back slightly, one arm draped over the booth. Like he had all the time in the world.

“You’re in the wrong jersey,” Grayson said.