Pucking Around With My Ex's Older Brother

Chapter 6

Rhys's POV

Lena screamed my name from the guest room, and the sound cut through my penthouse like a siren. I was across the living room and through her door in three seconds flat, heart hammering against my ribs, certain someone had gotten inside.

She was sitting on the bed with her phone clutched white knuckle tight in both hands, face bloodless, eyes wide and wet.

She said, "Someone just called me."

I knelt in front of her without thinking, hands hovering near her knees, not touching, remembering rule one.

I said, "Breathe, are you hurt."

She shook her head fast, and thrust the phone at me, screen up.

She said, "Look."

It was a photo of her, tonight, standing in this exact room with the blinds half open, timestamped twenty minutes ago, and underneath it said, pretty girl, shame if something happened to her face.

My vision went red at the edges, cold and sharp, and I had to force my hands to stay steady.

I said, "Did they call."

She nodded, throat working, and she said, "A man, he said Cole's debt just got called in, he said you need to bring twenty million to Pier 17 tomorrow night, alone, or they will hurt me."

I stood up slow, too slow, every muscle locked down tight, and I pulled my own phone out of my pocket.

She said, "What are you doing."

I said, "Fixing it."

She grabbed my wrist before I could dial, fingers cold against my skin, rule one breaking both ways.

She said, "Do not, please, do not go alone, that is what they want."

I looked down at her hand on my wrist, small and shaking, and I turned my hand over and laced our fingers together before I could stop myself.

I said, "I am not going alone."

She let out a breath that shook, and she said, "Good."

I squeezed her hand once, then let go, because if I kept holding it I would not stop, and I called Marco.

Marco picked up on the first ring, and he said, "Boss."

I said, "The SUV outside, where is it now."

Marco said, "Gone, twenty minutes ago, I tailed them three blocks, lost them at the bridge, sorry boss."

I said, "Send me everything you got, plates, faces, all of it, and get four men on my building tonight, roof, garage, lobby, hall."

Marco said, "On it."

I hung up and called the next number, a number that was not saved in my phone, a number I had memorized at sixteen and hoped I would never need again.

It rang twice, and a rough voice said, "Maddox."

I said, "Viktor has my girl."

The voice said, "Your girl, since when do you have a girl."

I said, "Since last night, he sent men to my penthouse, took photos through my windows, threatened her face."

The voice was quiet a beat, then said, "Cole's debt."

I said, "Yeah."

He said, "Twenty million, Pier 17."

I almost dropped the phone.

I said, "How did you know."

He said, "Because he called me too, an hour ago, same deal, different girl, he is fishing, Rhys, he wants you in that warehouse."

Lena was watching me from the bed, hands twisted in the blanket, trying very hard not to look terrified and failing.

I turned away toward the window so she would not see my face.

I said, "Then I will go fishing."

He said, "No, you will not, you will stay home, keep your girl inside, let me handle Viktor."

I said, "Not a chance."

He said, "Rhys, listen to me, you walk into that warehouse tomorrow and you do not walk out, you know that."

I said, "Then send backup."

He said, "You retired, remember, you said hockey, you said clean, you said no more warehouses."

I said, "That was before someone put a camera on my bedroom window."

He sighed, heavy, static crackling down the line.

He said, "Fine, midnight, Pier 17, my men, my plan, you do exactly what I say."

I said, "Deal."

I hung up and turned around, and Lena was standing now, right behind me, close enough that I could smell the shampoo from my guest shower in her hair.

She said, "Who was that."

I said, "Someone who owes me."

She said, "Are you going tomorrow night."

I said, "Yes."

She said, "I am coming with you."

I said, "Absolutely not."

She crossed her arms, stubborn, chin up, and that flash of fire in her eyes went straight through my chest.

She said, "You do not get to lock me in here like a pet while you go get shot over Cole's gambling problem."

I said, "I am not getting shot."

She said, "You do not know that."

I said, "I do know that, because I am very good at not getting shot."

She stared at me, then laughed once, sharp and disbelieving.

She said, "You are insane."

I said, "Probably."

She stepped closer, close enough that the toes of her socks brushed my bare feet, and she looked up at me, and her eyes were still wet but her mouth was set hard.

She said, "If you go, I go, that is my rule, rule nine."

I said, "We did not agree to rule nine."

She said, "We just did."

I wanted to kiss her so bad my hands ached with it, wanted to press her back against that wall and make her forget about warehouses and debts and my i***t brother.

Instead I stepped back, putting air between us, because rule one was still taped to her nightstand in her handwriting, signed by both of us.

I said, "No, you stay here, Marco stays with you, that is final."

Her face closed off, fast, like a door slamming.

She said, "Fine."

She said it too easy, too calm, and my gut twisted.

I said, "Lena."

She said, "I am tired, I am going to sleep."

She turned toward the bed, dismissing me, shoulders stiff.

I stood there like an i***t for ten seconds, then said, "Lock your door."

She said, "Goodnight Rhys."

I left and closed her door soft behind me, and I stood in my own hallway with my fists clenched so hard my knuckles hurt.

My phone buzzed, Silas this time.

Silas said, "Practice tomorrow, eight am, mandatory, league rep will be there about the Hart situation, you will be there and you will keep your mouth shut."

I said, "Fine."

Silas said, "And Rhys, keep your brother away from her, if I see one more headline with both my sons and that physio, I will trade you both to Arizona."

He hung up before I could answer.

I slept on the couch that night with a gun in the drawer under the coffee table, doors locked, security feed running on my laptop, watching the little square that showed Lena's hallway, watching her door stay closed all night.

Morning came gray and cold, and I left a note on the kitchen island next to a fresh pot of coffee, stay inside, Marco is downstairs, I will be back by noon, R.

Practice was a nightmare from the second I stepped on the ice.

Cole was already out there, skating hard, slamming pucks into the net like he wanted to break something, and the second he saw me his whole body went rigid.

Coach blew the whistle, and we ran drills, and Cole kept cutting across my lane, shoulder checking me every chance he got, dirty and obvious.

The third time he clipped me hard enough to rattle my teeth, I dropped my gloves.

I said, "You got something to say, say it."

Cole ripped his helmet off, face red and sweating, and he said, "Yeah, I got something to say, stay away from Lena."

The whole team went quiet, sticks still, everyone watching.

I said, "You lost the right to say her name when you had your hands up someone else's dress in her office."

He swung first, wild and sloppy, caught me on the jaw, split my lip open, copper flooding my mouth.

I did not swing back, I grabbed his jersey with both hands and slammed him into the boards hard enough to shake the glass, and I got right in his face.

I said, "Listen to me very carefully, little brother, you owe bad men a lot of money, and last night those men took photos of Lena through my bedroom window and threatened to cut up her face, so if you care about her at all, even a little, you will stay the hell away from her and let me clean up your mess."

Cole went white under his sweat, eyes blowing wide, mouth opening and closing with nothing coming out.

He said, "What, no, that is not, I did not, Rhys I swear."

The locker room doors banged open at the far end of the rink, echoing loud across the ice, and a league security officer walked in with two uniformed cops right behind him.

The officer said, "Rhys Maddox."

I let go of Cole and turned around slow, blood dripping off my chin onto the ice.

The officer said, "You need to come with us, right now, it is about Lena Hart, sir, she is gone."