I sort everything into neat piles. Count the cash again. Check the pills—imprints, weight, color. Make notes on my own phone about delivery timestamps, who’s paid, who’s late.
A league of numbers.
My mind keeps circling back to the alley. His sister. Lexi. The way she looked like she wanted to beat him instead. The way she followed him into the alley despite the danger. The way her jaw trembled with rage, not fear.
Not sympathy. Interest.
She wants to help him. Solve him. Save him.
That’s a provocation.
I close my eyes, but I don’t sleep. I run scenarios instead. Is she a liability? A mark? A complication I’ll enjoy?
Lexi, Lexi, Lexi.
My phone buzzes at 6 a.m. Missed calls. Texts. I ignore them all.
I strap on my duffle, lace my skates, head to the rink. Everything on autopilot—cold, focus, violence as exercise.
The stairwell is empty except for Axel. He’s with the dark-haired girl from last night. They’re talking in low voices, heads bent together.
I let my gaze land on him. Just for a second.
He sees me. His face goes pale. He turns away, grabs Thea’s arm, pulls her down the stairs faster.
I keep walking.
Soon enough, I’ll be getting in a few punches. He’ll be my bag.
The thought makes me smile.
The ice is empty when I arrive. Just me and the echo of my skates on the boards.
I lace up, step onto the ice, and let the cold settle into my bones.
I skate hard. Fast. Let the burn fill my lungs, my legs, my arms. I check imaginary opponents into the boards, slam my stick against the ice, let the violence bleed out in controlled bursts.
Oxy shows up halfway through, along with a few others from the team. Hudson, Carter, a couple of freshmen whose names I don’t care to remember.
I board Hudson into the glass. Not hard enough to injure. Just hard enough to remind him who’s in charge.
He laughs it off, but I see the wariness in his eyes.
Good.
Hudson skates up to me during a water break, helmet off, sweat dripping down his face. “Hey, man. You got any?”
I stare at him. “Beat it.”
“Come on, Koa. Just a little—”
“Ask again and I’ll break your legs.”
He laughs. Nervous. “You’re joking, right?”
I don’t answer. Just skate away.
Oxy catches up. “Asking again?”
