WRECKING THE CRUEL HOCKEY GOD

Chapter 12: Absolute Devil

The music keeps thumping, but every conversation near us keeps dying off the second a group turns and spots me. Even people I've never seen before in my life.

Garrett guides me forward with a hand on my back and I let him, because I'm not used to this kind of attention. So my eyes travel to the floor, just to have something I'm staring at.

Jax steps into our path first. He doesn't even bother looking at my face, his eyes are on my chest, fixed and having a good time there.

He slaps a hand on Garrett's shoulder, grinning like he already won something. "Nice babysitter, reporter. Move aside, I'll take her for a spin."

Garrett steps in front of me before I can react, shoving Jax's hand off his shoulder. "Back the f**k off. She's not your toy tonight."

"Oh really?" Jax leans in, jamming his shoulder against Garrett's. "How about I take your second eye, then. You clearly can't see straight if you think she's not out of your league. Move aside, four-eyes."

"f**k off!" I scream before I even realize I've opened my mouth, because I genuinely cannot survive one second of someone bullying my friend.

“I didn't ask to be taken on a spin, Jasper. So just move. I'm here with my best friend tonight."

His eyebrow lifts, looking too amused for my liking. "You're gonna regret that, chic."

He steps in closer, voice lowering into something meant to sound charming. "If you ever need a good time, you know where to find me."

He points behind him at a huge table, glasses stacked in a tower with wine pouring down through them like some kind of art installation.

My eyes shift back to him. "I'm sure there's plenty of women down here who'd love a spin with you, Jax. I'm just not one of them. Now… If you'll excuse us."

The whole group around us erupts into a mocking "ooooooh.” Clapping and cheering, as if I just scored a point in a game none of us signed up for.

"Give it up, man!" someone yells at him. "She cooked you into the ground!"

Garrett brushes past Jax's reddening face without giving him another glance.

I can still feel Jax's eyes on my back, I'm sure they're fixed no other place but my ass.

We're still heading to God-knows-where, then I see Finn at the same drink-stacked table.

Eve’s on his lap holding a wine glass, grinding her hips to the slow trap song.

Finn almost spits out his drink.

His face turns white the second his eyes land on me, then floods red with some ugly mix of anger and lust, of course.

He looks like someone just slapped him on the face. His mouth moves and I know exactly what he said, because he's said it a hundred times before. "What the actual fuck."

He can't stop staring. Not at my face. At everything else.

Eve's expression turns murderous in real time.

She stops dancing completely, spinning to look at Finn. But unfortunately for her, she ends up spilling her wine on her own dress.

"She really came dressed like a desperate w***e? That's fancy and pathetic!" She says it out loud, so half the room can hear.

Nothing could've prepared me for how good it feels watching her malfunction because her own boyfriend can't stop staring at me.

"Pathetic, truly," I mutter back, eyes still lounged on her.

Garrett grabs my shoulder and steers me away. "Alright, you've fired enough bullets for one entrance. Let's find somewhere safe to land."

He points toward a massive, fully staffed bar at the far edge of the room. And that's when I get the chance to inspect the hell out of this place.

The underground club beneath the Hyde is called The Pit. I know that from the huge neon sign I'm staring at.

This place is a pure, unhinged luxury of chaos and money-well-spent for the sole purpose of madness.

The whole space is circular, lit up in green and blood-red lights.

Neon hockey sticks and Gunner Wolves logos pulse on the walls in rhythm with the music.

But the thing that actually leaves my mouth wide open is cages.

Real f*****g cages, suspended from the ceiling. Women inside them dancing and smoking like there's zero chance the thing might drop.

"Wow." It's all I can manage to say, staring straight up at them. This whole place feels illegal. Exclusive. Genuinely dangerous, in a way that should scare me more than it does.

"These bitches trust gravity more than I trust you, friend," Garrett says, still staring up along with me.

There's a full bar ahead, bottles glowing along the shelves, and Garrett tugs my hand toward it. "Come on, bar. Now."

A few men whistle and cheer as we walk past. Others just stare, open-mouthed, like they've never seen a woman misbehave in high heels.

We finally land on stools in front of the bar, and Garrett heaves a breath of relief. I do the exact same thing a second later.

"That was awesome!" I say, laughing, half in shock at myself.

"Awesome doesn't cover it." He points at me. "You just verbally dismembered Jax in under five minutes."

He looks around the room, grinning and tapping his feet. "I am absolutely loving this. The vibe down here is insane, Mara.”

"Go," I tell him. "Seriously. I can handle myself for a bit."

He gives me that knowing look. "You sure?"

"I'm twenty-four, you silly. Not twelve."

He grunts with pure excitement, already halfway off his stool. "I'll be back in a minute!"

"Yesss, go get 'em!" I clap for him like he's leaving for battle.

He disappears into the dancing crowd, practically vibrating with energy.

I genuinely didn't know my best friend had this much party in him. I've never seen him look this alive.

While I'm still watching him, trying to guess which unlucky person he's about to drag onto the dance floor, I spin around on my stool, and that's when my eyes land on the VIP section.

The almighty devil and his chic are just walking in through a door that others don't even know about.

A stupid beat in my heart misfires.

His massive tall figure has the floor-length, black leather jacket over his shoulders.

Black pants, black shirt. Hair still wet from showering... and f*****g.

Everything as black as his wicked soul.

If I didn't know him enough I'd be licking my lips by now, "Fucker," I mutter.

Cloe has a literal diamond bikini on, not hiding s**t.

This girl is the absolute worst. I guess there should be a GUNNERWOLVES TOY label stuck up her arse too, since she's not wearing any clothes.

I watch as Zykiel's gaze travels the crowd, slowly, as if he's looking for something. And I wonder what the heck he's looking for.

His eyes reach the bar and everything goes totally still.

His eyes stop traveling and focus on me, and I see the smirk curving around his lips, even though his face is dim under the red lights in that VIP.

I hold his gaze as my heart makes a violent jump, waiting for him to look away, but strangely... he doesn't.

I turn behind me to see if there's anyone behind me he could be staring at, but nobody is sitting there.

Then I smirk as my gaze returns to Zykiel.

"Am I the one you were looking for? You absolute devil," I mutter as I meet his gaze again.