The air inside the rink was colder than outside, but that was not why my skin prickled. The man from the SUV stood at center ice, dark coat brushing his knees, Jessie’s phone turning lazily in his hand. His eyes were locked on me, patient and deliberate.
“Where’s Jessie?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, bouncing back at me from the empty stands.
His smile widened slightly, though it never touched his eyes. “She is safe. For now.”
My legs felt tight, my boots heavier than they should have been. “What do you want?”
He tilted his head. “I want to talk. Without George. Without anyone listening.”
“I am not interested.”
“I think you are.”
The way he said it made my stomach knot. I took a step forward, the sound of my boots echoing. “If you have hurt her—”
“She is not hurt. But
