On Thin Ice (The Baltimore Banners Book 8) (14 page)

But if some hockey player was screwing around with her sister, getting her this messed up, then she had to find out and do…something.

She looked back down the hallway, noticed Kenny still standing there, a frown on his face. No, it was more than a frown. He was angry. She could tell from the way he held himself, from the rigid set of his shoulders to the loosely curled hands hanging by his side. He met her gaze and shook his head. No, he didn't know who Lindsay meant.

Lauren looked back at her sister. "So who is it?"

"Who?"

"This hockey player. Which one?"

"Oh." Lindsay looked down, pretending to study her nails. She chewed on her lower lip for a second, like she was actually considering whether or not to tell Lauren. Then she looked up at her, a calculating gleam shining in her eyes as a slow smile spread across her face. "The one I went home with after that casino thing. The one you like."

Lauren couldn't stop the gasp of surprise and disbelief that rushed from her. What the hell was Lindsay trying to say? That she'd been with Kenny? Her eyes darted back down the hall and her heart lurched in her chest. Kenny was slowly walking toward them, anger rolling from his tense body in heated waves that Lauren actually felt. She shook her head, signaling him to stop, then looked back at Lindsay.

"So you're telling me that you were with this guy last weekend, when you had my car?" When Kenny had picked Lauren up and taken her back to his place because her sister had left her stranded.

"Yup."

Lauren dug her fingers deeper into her arms and took a deep breath. "And last night. You were with him last night, too?"

"Yes, I was. And don't you just hate it that I finally have something that you want and can't have?"

"What's his name, Lindsay?"

"Who?"

"This guy. This hockey player. What's his name?"

"It's—" Lindsay paused, a frown creasing her face before she smiled. "Kenny. That's right. His name is Kenny."

Anger exploded inside Lauren. Seething, twisting. On top of that came disbelief, followed by a hurt so sharp it cut deep below the surface, where it would never be seen. Why? Why would Lindsay lie like this? What could she possibly hope to gain?

I finally have something you want and can't have.

Lindsay's spiteful words echoed in her mind. Was that really what this was about? Her sister being spiteful? Did Lindsay really want to hurt her that much? But why? After everything Lauren had done for her, why would she do and say such things?

Lauren stepped back, would have kept going if not for the counter behind her. She needed to put space between them, afraid of the sudden urge to get in Lindsay's face and just start screaming at her. If her sister even noticed, she didn't show it. She just stood there, that cold gloating smile on her face, like she was so proud of herself.

Until Kenny turned the corner and moved to stand next to Lauren. She heard Lindsay's gasp, felt a blast of anger directed at her until Kenny stood in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, his deep eyes watching her with worry.

"Are you okay?"

And God, she must look a hundred times worse than she felt if Kenny was actually worried about her. She wanted to answer him, tell him she was fine, that he was worried for no reason. Except no words would come out, she couldn't even get them to form in her mind the way she needed them to. She finally just nodded, unable to do anything more than that.

Kenny draped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close to his body. Tension radiated from him, short pulsing waves that matched the rapid beating of her heart. She could only imagine what was going through his mind at hearing Lindsay's words.

Lauren tried to focus on her sister, blinking until her vision cleared. Lindsay hadn't moved from her spot in front of the refrigerator, but the gloating was gone. Her face had lost all color, her features twisted in anger and hate that she didn't even bother to hide. She glanced at Kenny then turned to Lauren, her eyes burning.

"You knew all along! You bitch! I hate you!"

Kenny stiffened beside her. He dropped his arm and took a step forward, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't you dare talk to Lauren like that. Who do you think you are?"

"Kenny, don't—"

"Go to hell. I don't answer to you."

"You sure as hell do when you start making—"

"Kenny, stop." Lauren placed a hand on his chest, holding her breath until he finally looked at her. There was no mistaking the anger and surprise in his dark gaze. Could she blame him? No. But that didn't mean she could let him get involved, not now. Not here.

She curled her hand in the collar of his shirt, his skin fairly burning against her touch. "Please, don't."

"You don't have to put up—"

"I know. But you need to let me handle it. Please."

A muscle jumped in his clenched jaw and for a brief second, Lauren was worried he wouldn't listen. He finally took a deep breath and let it out, slowly, before giving her a curt nod. She pressed a quick kiss against the corner of his mouth and tried to offer him a smile.

"Go. I'll talk to you later."

"Are you sure you want me to leave?"

No, she wasn't sure, but she didn't have any choice. She needed to find out what was going on with Lindsay, and she couldn't do that with him here. It didn't concern him, not really…even if Lindsay had inadvertently dragged him into her nauseating drama.

"I'm sure."

He hesitated, obviously unhappy with her decision, then dipped his head to give her a quick kiss. She heard gagging noises coming from Lindsay, heard her mutter "Oh, please" in a whiny voice.

Like this was some big joke. Like what she'd done was no big deal.

"I'll call you later." Kenny shot a dark look at Lindsay then grabbed his keys from the counter and moved to the door. Lauren waited until she heard it close then turned back to Lindsay.

Her sister was standing there, her arms folded in front of her, her eyes studying the fingers of her right hand. Her mouth twitched, like she was trying to bite back a smile.

Lauren clenched her fists, took a deep breath, released them. "You think this is funny?"

"Not really, no."

"Then why the smirk?"

"I wasn't smirking."

"Really Lindsay? Could have fooled me."

Her sister waved a hand in her direction, still refusing to look at her. "Whatever."

"So do you want to tell me what the hell that was all about? Why all the lies?"

"I don't have to answer to you."

"Yes, Lindsay, you do. You're living under my roof. You're making up vicious lies. And I want to know why. Now tell me. Why?"

"What do you care? You always get whatever you want. Always. I am so sick of it."

Lauren took another deep breath, refusing to be baited in by her sister's pouting words. Calm. She needed to stay calm. "So where were you last night?"

"I told you, I was out."

"Yeah, I can see that. Where? Who with?"

"None of your business."

"It is my business when you come home, smelling like a cheap whore and lying about who you've been with."

"God, you are such a bitch." Lindsay's voice got louder with each word, ending in a shriek that made Lauren wince. She clenched her jaw and took a deep steadying breath. She could not—would not—fall into her sister's trap and end up in a shouting match.

Lindsay's face went from pink to red, getting darker with each second that passed in silence. She finally screeched again and curled her hand into a fist before turning and hitting the door of the refrigerator.

"Bitch!" She shrieked again, the word sharp and piercing. "I hope you die and go to hell!" She spun on her heel, stumbled, righted herself then took off down the hall. The sound of the bedroom door slamming shot through the condo, followed by a muffled crash as something hit the floor.

Lauren stood there in the sudden silence, trying to control her breathing.

Trying to control her shaking.

She moved to the dining room and dragged a chair out from the table, collapsing into it just before her legs gave out. Her stomach twisted with nausea as chills ran along her skin.

The last fifteen minutes were a nightmare. They had to be. She'd wake up and go back to bed, stretch out along Kenny's strong body, and just let him hold her.

Except it wasn't a nightmare, she wasn't going to wake up, and Kenny was gone.

Lauren took a deep breath and tried to think. She needed to think, to figure out what had just happened. Figure out what was going on with her sister. Because this wasn't Lindsay—not the Lindsay she knew.

But no matter how hard she tried to think, the only thing she could see was the cold, calculating hatred in her sister's eyes.

And she didn't understand why.

Chapter Seventeen

Sweat dripped from his face, stinging his eyes and blurring his vision. Kenny didn't stop, just brushed the side of his face against the sweaty shoulder of his practice jersey as he moved across the ice. He pushed off again, twisting and sliding as he skated backward, all of his focus on Dillon Frayser as his teammate moved toward the net.

Kenny kept up with him, his body loose, ready for any sudden change Dillon might make as they got closer to the net. The man's face was carefully blank, his hazel eyes completely flat, giving nothing away, not even a blink.

Damn but the kid was good. Intense, eerily unreadable with absolutely no tells. How the hell did he do that? He'd have to ask him later, after practice. He was two years younger than Kenny but that didn't mean he couldn't learn from him, couldn't ask—

Shit. Dillon moved to the side, so fast Kenny almost didn't have time to react. Almost. He slid to his left and reached out with his stick, tipping the edge of the puck and knocking it from Dillon's tape. That was all he needed. He leaned forward, cradling the puck against his own stick, and cut right before heading up the ice.

A shrill whistle pierced the chilled air of the rink. Kenny stopped skating, coming to a slow stop before turning on the edge of his blades and heading back to the bench.

"Nice work, Haskell."

Kenny grunted, nodding in acknowledgement at the compliment as Coach Reyes tapped him on the shoulder when he walked by. He brushed his face against his shoulder again, following the other guys back to the locker room to shower and change.

Harland sat down next to him and started unlacing his skates. "We're heading to the Maypole for lunch. You joining us this time?"

"Yeah, I'll go." He pulled the sweat-soaked jersey over his head and reached for his pads. The loud noise that always seemed to fill the locker room slowly died, fading into an unnatural silence. Kenny looked up, his gaze automatically landing on Coach LeBlanc standing in the middle of the room. The other coaches—George Stephenson, Wade Reyes, and Steve Benoit—stood with him. Their faces were stoic, carefully blank except for the deep red flashing along the jagged scar running down Sonny's face. Kenny sat up straighter, his eyes darting behind the coaches and resting on the familiar kid standing behind them, looking hesitant and out of place.

Corbin Gauthier, the goalie from the Banners' minor league team, the York Bombers.

"Oh shit." Kenny nudged his elbow into Harland's side, getting his attention before nodding in the direction of the group.

"What the hell?" Harland's voice was low and rough, loud enough for only Kenny to hear.

"Everyone, listen up." Sonny's deep voice echoed like a clap of thunder in the cavernous silence. His eyes scanned the room, resting on each player before moving to the next. His hands squeezed on the tightly rolled papers coiled in his palm, rustling in the silence.

"Alec will be undergoing surgery tomorrow for a torn MCL. We don't know how long he'll be out." Sonny's gaze slid to Brad and he gave the man a short nod. "Goodrich will be primary in the net."

Kenny looked over, noting the solemn expression on Brad's face, the tightened jaw and hooded eyes. Murmurs broke out around the room, quiet rumblings of surprise. Not about Brad—he was a great goalie and the team would rally around him, do their best to protect him each game. No, it was the news of Alec being out that unsettled everyone.

Sonny cleared his throat and waited for the room to grow silent before stepping to the side and nodding. "This is Corbin Gauthier. He'll be our new backup goalie. Make sure you make him welcome."

Sonny looked around the room once more, nodded, then turned on his heel and walked out. The other coaches followed him, leaving the room cloaked in silence. A full minute went by before the murmurs and rumbling started again, slowly growing in volume until the room was filled with a low roar.

Most of the comments Kenny overheard were about Alec. Worry over his condition, worry over how long he'd be out. A few were directed at Brad, wishing him luck or gently teasing him. Kenny looked over, saw Corbin still standing in the middle of the room, his gear bag slung over one shoulder, looking out of place. Worried. Completely uncertain, like he had no idea what to do next.

Kenny pulled the shoulder pads off and tossed them to the floor then stood and made his way over to the middle of the room. He gave the kid a small smile and held his hand out. "Hey, Corbin. I haven't seen you in a while. How are you doing?"

"Good. Uh, good." He gave his head a quick shake, dislodging the thick hank of blonde hair that had fallen into his blue eyes. He looked around them, his eyes taking everything in, that expression of apprehension still on his pale face.

"Have you had a chance to meet anyone yet?"

"Uh, no. I just got here, maybe twenty minutes ago." His voice was quiet, the accent soft and barely noticeable. "They called last night when we were on the road. I only had time to pack my gear and a suitcase this morning when we got back."

Kenny nodded. There had been a few times he'd had to do the same thing—but not in the last year. And hopefully not anytime soon.

"Let me introduce you around." Kenny turned and saw all eyes on him, watching. One by one his teammates got to their feet and made their way over, shaking Corbin's hand, making small talk. Kenny backed away from the crowd and made his way back to the bench so he could finish undressing and jump in the shower. He heard someone invite Corbin to lunch, another one ask if he'd gotten a hotel yet. Then he heard JP join the conversation, speaking in rapid French that Kenny didn't understand. Brad looked over and caught his eye, grinning.

"JP just invited him to stay at his place."

"When the hell did you start speaking French?"

Brad shrugged and grabbed his shower kit. "I picked up enough when I was in the major juniors. Being around JP the last few years brought most of it back."

Kenny grunted then made his way to the showers. At least Corbin would have some place to stay, something better than a hotel. That's usually what Kenny had done but he had been dealing with short-term moves. With Alec out indefinitely, Corbin would probably be with the Banners for a bit. Better that he was staying with someone from the team instead of in some hotel.

Kenny finished with his shower, ignoring the laughing and joking going on around him as he dressed. Now that practice was over and he had nowhere else to aim his focus, his mind drifted back to this morning at Lauren's place. He still couldn't wrap his mind around the things he'd heard coming from her sister's mouth.

The accusations. The vulgarity. The disdain and hatred. He remembered Lauren's face, how the color had drained and her mouth had trembled. Her shock had been like a living breathing thing, tearing into him with sharp claws that drew blood and left a stinging ache. And if he felt like that, how was Lauren feeling? He had wanted to stay, to fold her in his arms and do nothing more than hold her. Protect her.

To rail at her sister and forcibly remove her. Had Lauren seen that sudden urge in his face? Was that why she'd asked him to leave? Or was it simply a matter of being embarrassed? Of not wanting him to witness a private family matter? Screw that. Lauren had nothing to be embarrassed about, and certainly not on her sister's behalf. As far as Kenny was concerned, the best thing she could do was kick her sister out.

What were the words Harland had used?
Off
. He'd said she was off somehow. Kenny had a better word: toxic.

Was she on something? Was there something else going on? He didn't care. As far as he was concerned, there was no excuse for what she'd said.

An image of his own sister came to mind. Kelly, with her soft voice and smiling face, her easy spirit and willingness to help anyone in need. If something happened to Kelly, if she had suddenly started acting like Lauren's sister, would he kick her out?

No. He'd be confused and hurt. Worried. And he'd do whatever he could to help her. What he
wouldn't
do is just allow the behavior to continue, which is what Lauren seemed to be doing.

"Dammit." He lowered his head into his hands and took a deep breath. He needed to let it go, not worry about it. It wasn't his place. It didn't concern him. He shouldn't be getting in the middle of it, not when he didn't even know exactly what was going on.

"Haskell! You coming or what?"

Kenny looked up, not surprised to see Harland standing at the door, waiting for him. Randy stood next to him, arms crossed in front of his broad chest.

"Yeah. I'm coming." He grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it as he made his way over to them. He looked at Randy, one brow raised in surprise. "What are you still doing here? I figured you would have headed over already."

"Not yet, I'm meeting someone. That, and I need favor from you."

"From me?" Kenny narrowed his eyes. "What kind of favor?"

"I need you to play in the charity exhibition in two weeks."

"What? No way. That's just before the holidays. My sister's coming into town with my niece."

"Just say yes. He's already got half the team agreeing to it." Harland moved ahead of them, leading the way out of the locker room.

"Not happening."

Randy clapped him on the back, hitting him a little harder than necessary. "Yes it is. Just bring them along. It's going to be a family day thing."

"No." Kenny shook his head and stepped to the side, trying to dislodge the man's hold on his shoulder.

"Didn't you hear me? It's for charity."

"What kind of charity?" And shit, he should have never asked. That was almost like saying he'd do it.

"For the local burn unit. It'll just be a quick game with shortened periods. The fire department is hosting it."

"No." Kenny shook his head again. "Not happening. No."

"Just say yes already. You know it's inevitable." Harland pushed through the doors leading to the rink, stepping to the side and holding them open for Kenny and Randy.

"If it wasn't for Kelly and Sara coming into town, I'd say yes. But I already made plans."

"Just bring them. It'll be fun. They're even going to have games for the kids."

"My niece is three. I don't think she's ready to be out on the ice yet."

"Not those kinds of games. I mean kids' games. Like a bouncy house and all that other shit. And face-painting. Little girls like stuff like that."

"Yeah, because you're suddenly an expert on what little kids like."

"Only because he's still a kid himself." Harland laughed then quickly stepped out of the way as Randy moved to hit him.

"Kiss my ass."

"No thanks, I'll pass."

Randy ignored him and turned back to Kenny. "I'll mark you down as a yes."

"Come on, man. Don't. I said no, I can't." Kenny paused, his eyes resting on a solitary figure standing near the door. He blinked as recognition slowly dawned. It was Lauren's brother, Dale.

His gut twisted, anxiety almost doubling him over. Was something wrong? Had something happened to Lauren? Why else would Dale be here? Kenny's feet froze in place, his entire body stiffening with worry and dread. Randy muttered something and stepped around him, moving toward the man. He reached out to shake his hand, laughed at something the man said.

What the hell?

Kenny drew in a deep breath, the action unfreezing him. He glanced at Harland, shook his head, and hurried over to the other two men. He pushed his way in front of Randy and faced Dale. "Is everything okay with Lauren?"

The words were too sharp, drawing a curious look from Randy and Harland. Dale turned, a frown on his face that cleared when recognition lit in his eyes. Then Kenny's words registered and he frowned again.

"She's fine. Why? Did something happen?"

"No. I mean, I don't think so…" Kenny's voice drifted off as he looked between the two men. Randy was watching him like he'd suddenly grown a third head.

"You guys know each other?"

"What? No. Not really." Kenny shifted, suddenly uncomfortable at the looks he was getting. He cleared his throat. "I mean, we've met, yeah. Uh, do you guys know each other?"

"Yeah. This is Dale Gannon. He's the guy from the fire department who's coordinating the exhibition game."

Kenny forced his mouth closed, knowing he had to look like an idiot. He swallowed and tried to force a smile to his face. "Sorry. My bad."

And God, he really was an idiot. What on earth had possessed him to think the worst? To just go running up and spouting off at the mouth? No wonder everyone was looking at him like he'd lost his mind.

Dale watched him, that deep frown on his face. "Are you one of the guys playing, too?"

"No. I already told—"

"Yeah, he's playing." Randy spoke right over him, drowning him out.

"No shit. Lauren will probably get a kick out of that."

"She will? Why?"

"Because she's playing, too." Dale uncrossed his arms and stepped closer to Kenny, his frown deepening over dark eyes that were nowhere near as warm as his sister's. "Now why don't you tell me why the hell you looked so panicked, convinced that something happened to my sister?"