On Thin Ice (The Baltimore Banners Book 8) (17 page)

She took a step forward, trying to push her way past Kenny. "Get out of my way and let me in."

"No." The word was nothing more than a whisper but it split the air around them with the force of a shotgun blast. Kenny glanced over his shoulder, his gaze raking over Lauren. The color had drained from face, leaving her pale except for two angry blotches of red on her cheekbones. Her arms were folded in front of her, almost casual—except for the way her fingers dug into the flesh of each toned bicep. Her mouth trembled as she took a shaky breath, her lips tightening into a flat line for several long seconds. She moved to stand beside Kenny, shaking her head.

"No," she repeated, her voice more forceful. Lindsay rolled her eyes and tried to step forward again.

"Another lecture. Great, just what I need. Just let me in and we can talk about in the morning—"

"I said no." Lauren moved forward, her hand darting out with quick precision and snagging the small purse hanging from her sister's shoulder. She reached inside, rummaging through the contents as her sister looked on in horror.

"What are you doing? You can't do that!"

"Watch me." Lauren pulled her hand from the small bag, a keyring with two keys clutched in her palm. She closed the purse and threw it back at her sister. It bounced off Lindsay's chest and hit the floor, some of the contents spilling out.

Lindsay let out a sharp little cry and dropped to her knees, scrambling to gather everything and shove it back into the small bag. Kenny wasn't surprised to see two joints, crumpled and worn, or the small plastic bag with several white pills in it. Had Lauren seen them? He glanced at her, not surprised to see her staring out into the atrium, her eyes turned away from the spectacle of her sister crawling around the floor. He reached out and placed a gentle hand in the middle of her rigid back, offering silent comfort. He could feel the cold of her skin beneath her shirt, the light tremors that shook her body.

Lindsay pushed to her feet, clutching the bag in front of her. Tears welled in her eyes and her lower lip trembled as she looked at Lauren. "What are you doing? Lauren—"

"Get out, Lindsay. Now."

"What? You can't mean it."

"I do. I can't do this anymore, Lindsay. I told you that, over and over."

"But you don't mean it. You can't." A fat tear fell over the edge of her lower lashes and tracked down her face. She tried to step around Kenny, tried to get past him, but he didn't move. Cold anger flashed in her eyes, ruining the effect of the single tear. She blinked and looked away, her eyes once again filling with unshed tears.

"Lauren, you can't mean it. Just let me in and we can talk in the morning, when you're feeling better." Her words came faster, filled with desperation. "You're just upset, that's all. We can work this out."

"You need to leave, Lindsay. Now."

"Lauren, please. You can't!" Her voice rose, turning into a shriek filled with genuine desperation. "Just one more chance. That's all. I'll do better. I'll prove it to you. Please, just one more—"

"I've already given you a chance. And another and another and another. I can't do this anymore, Lindsay. I can't."

Lindsay's mouth snapped shut, anger replacing the desperation. Had it all been nothing more than show? Kenny didn't know. And he didn't care, not when he saw the hatred so clear in her cold eyes.

"You bitch. You just wait. I can't wait until you get yours. I can't wait—"

Kenny stepped forward, his own anger bubbling to the surface as he towered over her. Lindsay stepped back, suddenly looking uncertain. "Get out. Now."

Her eyes narrowed to slits but she didn't say anything, just shot another cold look in Lauren's direction and stormed away. Lauren reached around Kenny and closed the door with a soft click, resting her head against the smooth metal surface. Her body was stiff, too still—except for her right hand, still curled around the door handle. She tightened her hand, her knuckles turning white as she clenched the handle. He understood her silent struggle, knew she was torn between letting her sister go and throwing the door open to call her back. He felt her pain, her anxiety, her worry. The emotions were real, rolling over her in raging waves that battered the heavy air between them. Kenny wanted to reach out, pull her into his arms, just hold her. He didn't move, not yet. This was something he knew she needed to do on her own, to figure out on her own.

Long minutes went by before Lauren finally took a deep breath, the sound ragged and harsh. She pushed away from the door and turned to face him, sorrow and doubt filling her eyes.

"Tell me I did the right thing."

He didn't hesitate, just pulled her into a deep hug and held her, his hand cupping the back of her head as she clung to him. But he couldn't answer her, not yet.

Was it the right thing to do? Yes, he thought so. He'd seen the cold calculation in her sister's eyes, felt the blast of hatred through the phony tears. But he couldn't tell Lauren that because he didn't think she was ready to face it.

All he could do was carry her back to the bedroom and hold her in his arms and admit to himself that he didn't want to let her go.

Chapter Twenty-One

Kenny climbed over the boards and fell to the bench, his chest heaving as sweat dripped down his face. Someone tossed a towel over his shoulder and he grabbed it, wiping it across his face before folding it and swiping it across the visor of his helmet. He tossed the towel behind him then reached for a water bottle, tilting his head back and shooting a stream into his mouth, his eyes focused on the giant screen above center ice.

There were three minutes left in the second period and the Banners were having their asses handed to them by Pittsburgh, trailing four-to-one. They were being out-shot, out-scored, and out-skated. On home ice.

Kenny didn't dare look behind him at the coaches. He didn't have to, not when he could feel Coach LeBlanc's steely gaze boring into each player on the bench. Sonny was pissed. He had every right to be when their play had suddenly turned to shit.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder, hard enough to be felt under the pads. Kenny looked behind him, into the coal-dark eyes of Coach Reyes. "Haskell, I want you out on the next shift with Petrovich. Shut these guys down."

Kenny nodded, ignoring the jump of surprise that lurched beneath his breastbone. First line with Nikolai? What the hell was wrong with Michaels? Kenny glanced over at Randy, noticed him rubbing at his thigh with both hands. Fuck. The last thing they needed was another injury.

Kenny turned his eyes back to the ice, coming to his feet as the play moved toward the offensive zone. Jens Ulfsson and John Murdoch headed to the bench, their faces red and covered in sweat. Kenny jumped the boards and took off, moving into position as JP and Mat passed the puck back and forth. Harland skated behind the net, coming around to the front just as Mat shot the puck in his direction. It hit dead center on Harland's tape and Kenny held his breath, certain he was going to score.

And fuck, that should have gone in. There was no reason Pittsburgh's rookie goalie should have stopped that one. But he did, and now the puck was in Pittsburgh's possession.

Kenny pushed back, picking up speed, watching and waiting as he stayed ahead of the other player. He saw Nikolai from the corner of his eye, moving in to knock the puck away as Kenny drifted to the net to protect Brad.

And shit, where the hell did the other guy come from? From fucking shitty timing, that's where. Nikolai swung out with his stick but not fast enough to stop the pass. And here came the other player, racing toward the far side of the net.

Away from Kenny.

Brad jerked to the side, trying to get into position, but his skate must have caught on something because instead of sliding to the other side of the net he fell to one knee, his left arm wind-milling out to the side. And shit, Kenny was too far away, there was no way in hell he could make it in time, not unless he suddenly grew wings.

He didn't think, there wasn't time to think. He saw the player pull back, saw the blade hit the puck and send it flying high to the corner. Kenny took two quick steps and pushed off with his skates, his body stretched as he lunged through the air between Brad and the net. Something hit high on his left hip, just above his shorts. He had a brief second to wonder if that was what it felt like to get shot before he landed on the ice, rolling to the side just as the buzzer sounded.

Kenny pushed to his elbows, his eyes focused on the red light above the net, wondering why the hell it wasn't flashing. Loud screams and cheers filled the arena, the noise deafening. Kenny rolled to his side then pushed to his knees as hands grabbed him, patted him on the head and arms.

"Holy shit, Haskell. Beautiful."

"Nice job."

"I could kiss you." Brad slid to a stop next to him and wrapped his arm around Kenny's neck then head-butted him. Kenny looked up at the giant screen but the score was still the same, four-to-one. He glanced over to center ice, saw the officials gathered in a tight knot, their heads together. Then he saw the signal he'd been waiting for, the ref's arms swinging out laterally across his body from shoulder level, his palms facing down.

No goal.

The screaming and cheers grew, a loud roar that pierced his ears and settled at the base of his spine. He looked around, a stupid grin on his face.

"I didn't knock it in by mistake? It didn't cross the line?" That had been Kenny's biggest worry, that he'd been too far back in the net. Oh hell, who was he kidding? He hadn't been thinking that. He hadn't been thinking anything, just acting in desperation.

"No. It was a beautiful move. Perfect." JP clapped him on the shoulder as they skated back to the bench. Kenny paused, glancing over to the side before disappearing down the tunnel with his teammates. He caught Lauren's eye, saw the huge smile on her face as she watched him, clapping and cheering with the other 18,000 fans in the stands. He smiled back, raising his stick in a small salute before disappearing down the tunnel.

The excitement didn't last long, not when they finally reached the locker room. Kenny dropped to the bench, raising his jersey to get a look at the welt growing on the side of his hip, an explosion of black and purple with a small line of red in the raised center. Yeah, that was going to hurt in the morning. Morning, hell. It was starting to throb now.

The trainer came over and poked and prodded, asked a few stupid questions, then handed him an ice pack before moving. The coaches filed in, their faces grim and serious. Sonny looked around the room, his eyes resting on each man before moving to the next. His icy gaze landed on Kenny for what seemed like minutes before he finally nodded. "Nice hustle, Haskell." He paused, looked around the room once more, his scar a flaming red line that slashed down across his face.

And then the lecture started, Sonny's loud voice echoing around them. Not shouting, just loud. Disappointed. They were better than this, they needed to focus, get their heads in the game. There was no need for them to be trailing Pittsburgh, not when they were the better team. They needed to stick to the script, get back out there and play their A-game.

Sonny turned on his heel and walked out as the other coaches stepped forward, moving toward the whiteboard to discuss the strategy going into the third. They had five minutes left once the coaches finished. Kenny readjusted the ice pack then leaned back and closed his eyes, using the few minutes left to clear his mind. Then it was time to head back to the ice, time for them to prove they were the better team.

They almost pulled it off, tallying two goals in the third to bring the score to four-to-three. But it still wasn't good enough, ending in a loss. If they had held Pittsburgh off in the first period, if they had played their A-game for the full sixty minutes instead of thirty, things might have ended differently. The atmosphere in the locker room would have been filled with energy and excitement instead of quiet bitterness.

Mat Herron poked his head into the room, a frown on his usually smiling face. "Haskell, your guests are waiting for you."

"Yeah, okay." Kenny adjusted his tie then shrugged into the suit jacket, pulling on the sleeves before grabbing his small duffel.

"Nicole has some great pictures of your flying leap, by the way. I'll have her send them to you."

"Not like it did any good." Kenny fell into step with Mat, the sound of their footsteps soft against the tile floor.

"The hell it wasn't. I think things would have been totally different in the third if you hadn't blocked that shot."

"We still lost. I should've played better, played harder. Things might have been different—"

"You're too hard on yourself. You had a hell of a lot of ice time tonight. You think Coach would have had you out there like that if you weren't playing hard?"

"Easy for you to say. You don't have to worry about being sent back down."

Mat halted, his brows raised in shock as he faced Kenny. "What? Dude, where's that crazy talk coming from? You're not going anywhere."

"You don't know that. They could send me back to York tomorrow for all I know."

"You're seriously worried about that? Why?"

"Because I've only been here since the middle of last season. Things change in a heartbeat, you know that. What if I haven't proved myself—"

"Haskell!"

Kenny froze at the sound of his name, the speaker's voice loud, determined. He turned around, his heart beating hard and loud in his chest as he faced Coach Reyes. The man's eyes were narrowed, his expression tight as he focused those coal-dark eyes on Kenny. And then his face relaxed, a grin tugging the corners of his mouth.

"You're not going anywhere. Now knock the worrying shit off and get out of here."

His breath left in a rush, easing the tightness in his chest, the tension that had been a constant companion for the last several months. He felt the grin spread on his face, knew he probably looked as giddy as a kid who just played in his first game and scored the winning goal. "Yes, Coach."

Mat nudged him in the side and gave him a knowing look. "Told you so." He nudged him again, his eyebrows moving up and down in a comical wag. "So are things getting serious with you two?"

"With who?"

"Dude, you know exactly with who so don't play stupid. So are they? Getting serious, I mean."

Kenny stopped and shook his head, lowering his voice so they wouldn't be overheard. "No. I don't know. Maybe. I'm just—one day at a time, you know?"

What he didn't admit was that he was serious. At least, he was pretty sure he was. But he had no idea how Lauren felt and didn't even know how to ask. Or even if he should ask. She still had a lot on her mind, was still worried about kicking her sister out a week and a half ago. Kenny didn't want to add to her worry, didn't want to push anything while she was still working things through in her mind. They had been together every night since then, except for the two games he'd been on the road. And even then they had talked on the phone for over an hour each night. An unexpected friendship had blossomed between them. Okay, more than friendship, considering they were sleeping together. Definitely more than friendship for him. But he had no idea if Lauren viewed their relationship the same way, no idea what she thought or felt.

Mat snorted and shook his head. "You're so full of shit it's not even funny."

Kenny didn't bother answering. For one thing, it wouldn't have done any good. Mat was in love now and thought everyone else should be, too. Secondly, they were approaching the common room and there were too many other people around, too many people who could overhear things he'd prefer to keep private.

That included Lauren and her brother. She turned as they walked in, the smile growing on her face as he walked over to her and claimed a quick kiss. He heard Mat cough behind him, heard him whisper "Liar" under his breath. Kenny shot him a warning look over his shoulder then turned back to Lauren.

"Tough loss. But that was such a beautiful move in the second. I have no idea how you pulled it off."

"Trust me, neither do I." He grinned when she wrapped one arm around his waist and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The grin spread into a full smile when she left her arm in place.

"The guys are heading to The Maypole for a quick bite. Did you want to go?" He directed the question at Dale, trying to include the man in their plans. But he shook his head.

"No thanks. I'm on day work tomorrow, need to get up early."

"It's not going to be a late night. I have to get to the airport early myself to pick up my sister and niece."

"Thanks, but I'll pass anyway. I just came down with Lauren to make sure she got down here okay."

"Dale, I'm fine. I told you that. You just wanted to come down and be nosy, admit it."

Her brother grinned, not bothering to deny it. Kenny looked around then turned back to Dale. "Did you want a quick tour? I can show you around—"

"Thanks but I'll take a rain check. I'm running on fumes now because of my new neighbor."

Kenny nodded then headed for the door, his hand in the small of Lauren's back, guiding her. She looked over her shoulder, frowning at her brother. "You didn't say you had a new neighbor."

"As of four days ago. No idea who it is, but they have an annoying tendency to play the worst kind of music late at night."

"So go say something."

"I will. Eventually. So far, banging on the wall has worked. You'd think they'd get the message by now."

They reached the bottom of the stairs and Kenny pushed on the metal bar, opening the door into the parking garage. His car was in the aisle across from them, about five spaces to the right. He waited as Lauren said goodnight to her brother, saw her blush when Dale said something to her, his voice too low to overhear. Then he led her over to the car and held the door open for her.

She pulled the seatbelt across her chest then turned, watching him with a worried frown. "Do you mind if we skip going out? I mean, it's okay if we do, it's not a big deal—"

"That's fine, we don't have to go." He started the engine then leaned forward, adjusting the volume on the radio so it wasn't so loud. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just tired. I thought maybe we could just go home instead. I mean, back to my place." She looked away, a small flush spreading across her cheeks.

Home
. Kenny knew he shouldn't read too much into it. Hell, he shouldn't read
anything
into it. It didn't mean anything. That didn't stop the smile from spreading across his face as he put the car in gear and backed out.