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He dodges around a d-man and shoots, a perfect wrist shot that soars like a bullet?—
Into the net.
I jump to my feet, pounding on the glass and cheering. Because I could almosttastethat shot and the sweet victory that follows it. Knox collects his congratulations and glances up at the suite. For a moment, it seems like he’s staring right at me.
But then the moment breaks, he turns away, and I return to my seat.
I glance down to the far end of the rink, where Joel stands. He seems more composed today, and I chalk up their epic loss to a really bad day. Sometimes a little thing can get in the way of a hockey goalie’s mojo. A deviation in their routine, a distraction…
I hope I’m not the distraction.
My phone goes off, and I pull it from my pocket absentmindedly.
Bet confirmed, the notification reads.
It’s from the gambling app I downloaded to watch the odds.
Myotherphone vibrates, and I scramble for it in my purse. I don’t know what to check first—because I definitely didn’t just make a bet on anything.
Luke: Throw the game or kiss your savings goodbye.
What?
I toss the burner back in my purse and open the app.
I placed—no. No, I didn’t.
It’s all of my money. The book income plus everything from my experimental gambling—and the wager was placed on the Titans losing. There are good odds on it because they’ve been projected to win.
And now they can’t, or I lose everything.
The horn blows, signaling the end of the second period.
My gaze shoots up to the scoreboard, confirming that the Titans are in the lead. 1-0.
Fuck.
I open my bank account, my heart all but in my throat. There’s a balance of five dollars left in my business account. A thousand or so in savings. Nothing major.
But hundreds of thousands of dollars—gone.
Unless they lose.
I go back to the app, but it needs a password to cancel the wager. And somehow, no matter what I try, the password is wrong.
“Are you okay?”
I cringe and face Violet and Aspen. “No,” I answer honestly. “I need to get down to the locker room.”
“Okay,” Violet says. “Grey?”
He appears at her side, and she repeats what I need.
“Sure,” he says. “Come with me.”
I can’t do this. And yet, my feet move, following Greyson down the now-familiar path to the locker rooms. He talks to the guy at the door, who opens it up. Violet comes with us, and I almost jump out of my skin when she takes my hand.
“Whatever it is, we’ll get through it,” she says.
