Skating Towards Danger: A Mafia Hockey Romance – Dante’s Book (Mafia Hockey Series 2)

I kneel, bring my left arm up, and bend backward slightly as I glide across the ice, trying to keep my face soft and tilted to the side slightly. Then, I stand and skate faster, using my arms to help with my speed before I jump a little and twist my body, then skate backward, kicking my feet out as I go and move my arms in front of me, dancing to the music in the surround-sound speakers.

The beat quickens, so I quicken my legs and swing my arms as I go while staying loose. I keep my feet shoulder-width apart and use my hips before I leap off the ice and twist at the same time, bringing my arms to my chest and spinning mid-air. I keep my feet crossed before I quickly uncross them and land on my left foot softly, my arms out wide beside me. I skate backward a little before coming to a stop, breathing hard as pride fills me because I didn’t get one step wrong.

Damn.

The feeling of happiness that I always get comes, and my chest tightens as I look out to the stands. As always, they’re empty, minus one man I just know is hiding at the back, even though he said he wouldn’t be here until I finish because of a press conference.

I felt eyes on me the moment I walked out into the rink, but I ignored them. They don’t feel soft as they normally do, and I don’t get the positive tingles all over me, instead my gut tightens, and darkness fills me. Maybe I’m just picking up whatever bad mood Dante is in, though it is weird that he’s not making himself known right now, knowing I’m struggling.

I take a deep breath to control the urge to cry. I love the ice, the feeling of the coldness surrounding me, and the quietness, the peace. It brings me calmness, just like Dante does, but the guilt I always feel is still there. It’s not as big as it was when I first started seven weeks ago, but it’s there, and even though Ellen said it would slowly fade, I just want it to fade quicker because it’s making me want to curl up in a ball and cry again.

I know my parents dying wasn’t my fault, I know this, and yet, I still feel survivor’s guilt.

I was eight, I didn’t ask for them to pick me up or watch me practice, but I was so damn grateful they were all there. After Royal was born, Momma and Daddy spent a lot of time at home, and while I was at home, they gave me just as much attention, but I missed having them in the stands and seeing their proud faces.

It wasn’t my fault.

I swallow hard, trying to quieten the guilt and ignore the tightness in my chest as I take slow breaths and wait for the next track to begin on the speakers.

I want to be happy, I want to live.

I want to skate professionally, get married, have a kid or two, and have a long, happy life. I want all of that with Dante. Even though it’s only been just under two months, I have fallen for him, and I’ve fallen hard. He makes me want more than I have before.

I didn’t cause the crash. I was eight, and while I lost my whole world in that car, a certain player is ensuring I see he’s made himself my world bringing me back from the darkness.

Taking a deep breath while feeling angry eyes on me, I stop the urge to ask him what’s wrong and gently skate backward, gliding side to side, ready to try the routine again, which my momma taught me when I was only seven.

I’m going to get through this tribute, and I’m going to make my parents proud because God knows I haven’t over the years with the decisions I made out of guilt.

I get halfway through the routine and complete the Axel jump when the music stops, and I skid to a stop in confusion. My confusion doubles when Dante walks out of the locker room, looking tense and my eyes instantly go to the stands where I thought he was with his angry aura and a dark feeling consumes me.

“Litte fairy, we need to talk,” he demands softly, and I furrow my brows still eying the stands.

Normally, when a man says, ‘We need to talk,’ they want to end things, but that is not what has me confused. I glance at Dante to see his hands on his hips then look back at the stands where I still feel angry eyes on me, and a horrible feeling overwhelms me, the same one I got when I was eight, and the banging started.

It wasn’t Dante watching me, which is why I never felt the sparks I normally feel when his eyes were on me. Even when he was trying to make it difficult for me to skate here, I felt the sparks.

I don’t know how, but something deep down tells me that the other person in this room is dangerous. The fact that they’re hiding in the shadows is proof of that, and I’m his target.

I see a slight light at the top of the stands, and suddenly, the loud bangs from when I was a kid come back to me—several loud bangs—and my breathing picks up as my memories I’ve tried to forget come back with a vengeance.

“Daddy!” I scream as the car feels like it’s flying….

We were smashed into a few times before the car flipped, but I never gave myself a chance to think about it or question it…

Oh god, were we targeted?

I swallow hard and rasp, “Uh, Dante…” But he cuts me off and says, “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have cut you off mid-performance. I know skating is hard for you, but I need to speak to you about, fuck, about that day you crashed.”

My thoughts go haywire as I lock eyes with dark brown ones when a figure at the back of the stands leans forward, showing nothing but evil and suddenly realize I wasn’t imagining things and I mutter to Dante, “I thought it was you watching me the whole time and that you were just in a bad mood, but it wasn’t, was it?”

“What the…,” Dante mutters, but I don’t look at him when the guy in the shadows moves and allows me to see something black in his hand, and I suck in a breath.

“Paige, move, move, move!” Dante shouts, but I stay frozen even as I hear a loud bang before I’m suddenly shoved out of the way. The ice where I stood splinters, making me gasp and that day comes back to me as my body lands on the ice, coldness seeping into my skin….

“Rose, call Rocco and tell him to contact David; the Cartel are on our ass….”

I blink as Dante moves quickly, covering my body with his.

“Rocco, we’re under attack.”

I gasp for breath as I watch Dante grab a gun from his boot and holds it where I saw the guy and shoots.

“Paige Pumpkin, lie your body over your brother.”

I swallow the bile rising….noveldrama

“Peter, talk to me.”

“Cartel, three vehicles, all shooting at us…. Roc, the kids are in the car…”

“We need to get out of here, now, little fairy,” Dante snaps, but I don’t move, my head thumping as memory after memory comes back to me like a someone is fast forwarding a movie in my head.

Cartel, the Cartel killed my family, wanted to kill me, still wants to kill me by the looks of things, but why?

They’re part of books, not real, right?

“Shit, Rocco, I can’t shake them, I-I, the kids….”

“No, don’t give up, do you hear me? Don’t you dare fucking give up….”

“Paige!” Dante snaps, grabbing my cheek. His eyes race between mine, and he curses, “Shit,” as I slowly shut down.

“Roman, the Cartel just tried to shoot Paige,” Dante says as he stands on the ice, bends, and quickly picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.

Romans’s voice echoes around us as he curses, “Fuck, get to your car. I’ll send you back up, and be fucking careful!”

Be careful, men, Cartel, what?

“Daddy….”

“Rose no….”

My father’s voice echoes in my head as visions of my momma smashing into the roof, killing her hits me as Dante replies, “Just fucking hurry, Roman, Paige has gone into shock.”

I hear more cursing before the memories swallow me whole, and suddenly, I want to end it all as everything swarms me.

The money left, the bangs, the car flipping.

Who in the hell was my father?