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Shit. I hustled over to the locker room with the guys flanking me, wishing I’d had time to take off my skates. I shoved my head inside, called out, “Anyone in here?” and motioned for the men to follow me in when no one answered.
I took two confident steps before stopping dead in the center of the changing room. The streaky line of red paint continued all the way across the wall, cutting off at the widest, most blank part of the wall.
There, the smears thinned to form a picture—a sketchy body with its torn-off head lying across from a tattered neck. Crudely shaped letters arced across the wall above and below the gruesome drawing.
This will be you. That’s what bitches get.
My stomach churned. I stared at the wall until the imagery was burned into my memory and then spun away, just as Rafael charged into the locker room after us.
He looked at the paint and then at me.
I held his gaze, holding back the urge to shiver. “It was Haggard. It has to be. He didn’t figure he could get away with terrorizing me at the apartment anymore, so he’s switched to the arena.”
With every word, my shaky nerves hardened as anger flared inside me. Howdarethis fucking sicko bring his lunatic crusade all the way here, where he’d ended up terrifying girls who had nothing to do with me as well?
When was it going to end?
Rafael swore under his breath and gripped my shoulder with a reassuring squeeze that conveyed all of his own fury as well.
“That bastard keeps slipping through our fingers. When I finally catch him, I’m going to make him regret every fucking time.”
“There’s no way to set up a warning system here at the arena, is there?” I said. “It’s not like motion detectors will do us any good when people are always coming and going.”
Jasper frowned. “Do you figure he realized we had something monitoring the apartment, and that’s why he hasn’t been back?”
“Probably.” Rafael let out a sound halfway between a huff and a growl and spun on his heel. “Grab what you need and let’s get home, now. You can shower and whatever else there.”
I didn’t argue. There was nothing I wanted more than to get back to the apartment, slam the deadbolt into place, and curl up under a blanket with my men around me.
Of course, not even our current home was guaranteed to be safe.
We ducked back into the rink area to take off our skates and grab our equipment bags. Quentin and his fellow trainees were on the ice, except for the junior girl who’d dashed from the locker room. She was speaking to the coach while wringing her hands.
Good. Let Quentin’s coach figure out how to deal with the mess. I had enough to navigate already.
The four of us hurried out of the arena into the dimming late afternoon light. For the first time, I wished we lived far enough away that we usually drove. I’d have felt more secure with steel walls around me.
But Rafael stuck close by my side as we walked, Jasper taking up the opposite position and Niko striding ahead of us with his gaze scanning the streets. Their determination to protect me hummed off them, wrapping me in a small measure of comfort.
As our building came into view up ahead, Rafael grunted and raised his chin just slightly toward a car parked on the other side of the street. “Looks like Sheeran’s decided to keep a closer eye on you.”
Tensing, I followed his gaze. The sedan was exactly like the ones that’d pulled up in the ambush last week.
A couple of men were sitting behind the windshield, watching us as they passed. They definitely looked like the type Sheeran had on his payroll. “You recognize them?”
“One of them, definitely. I’ve followed him a couple of times. Just act normal.”
“No kidding.”
I strode on as if I hadn’t even noticed them, but inside, my emotions were roiling.
Why couldn’t everyone just leave me the hell alone?
Niko glanced back at us. “The Harvester still thinks Lou is after his territory?”
I made a face. “Seems like it.” I sighed and squared my shoulders. “But we’ve been building our leverage. Maybe it’s time to start dealing with the people wedoknow how to tackle.”
NINETEEN
