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

“Paige, the back table needs clearing,” Andrew, my manager and kind of boyfriend, snaps and I roll my eyes but grab the tray, cloth, and spray, not needing a ‘lover’s spat’ while at the workplace—not that you could call it that considering I haven’t screwed him.

It’s more like he wants to get laid, and I refuse, heck, I haven’t even kissed him yet.

It’s his table, but the ass is trying to punish me, and honestly, all it’s making me want to do is dump him because the ass is showing how immature he really is, but then he’ll probably try to ruin my job, and this is the only thing keeping me afloat with the one bedroom I’m renting from the swingers a few blocks away.

Huffing, I quickly load up the tray with the dirty dishes, grab the spray bottle, and scrub the metal table with the cleaning solution.

“I really shouldn’t have shat where I eat,” I mumble before I pick up the full tray, cloth and spray bottle and walk it to the pass.

Matt, the chef, gives me a nod in thanks and takes the tray before I go back to the counter, putting the cloth and bottle down and grab new menus, a cup full of colorings, and a picture before taking it to the back table I just cleaned and place them on there then head back to the counter again, ignoring the ass playing on his phone.

I sit on the stool, grab the napkins and the napkin suspensers, and continue to fill them, something I was doing before Andrew rudely interrupted me.

“Paige!” Andrew snaps, and I look at him with a raised brow because seriously, once okay but twice within a few minutes, I don’t think so, buddy.

He clears his throat at my look before turning his phone around, and I sigh, seeing the headline.

Rose Carmen’s daughter, Paige Carmen, will take part in a tribute during the semi-finals.

Great. There’s a large photo of me and another of my mother and me from when I was five.

Shaking my head, I reload the napkins, hoping he’ll just let it go, knowing my past is off-limits. But does he? Of course not.

“Seriously, you’re not going to explain yourself?!” he snaps, and I look at him sharply and I can’t control my anger.

I demand, “Explain what exactly, Andrew?” he narrows his beady eyes at me, but I don’t back down, and I ask, “Should I explain how my parents were killed in a car crash fifteen years ago, a crash I was in?” his light green eyes widen, “Should I explain that I use to skate like my life depended on it but stopped after losing my parents? Or should I explain how I got a call a few days ago about a tribute for my mother and that it would be perfect for me to put my skates on professionally again for the first time since I was sixteen when I finally told my aunt and uncle I couldn’t skate anymore?”

Andres swallows and stutters, “I-I uh, Paige, I…”

Well, he has a brain after all seems as he realizes he just messed up.

I scoff and stand up when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and I snap, “My past is off limits, you knew this going into this, so what I have to do in five months’ time in honor of my mother, let it go!”

I storm away into the hallway, leaving him shell-shocked. As soon as I’m away from him, I pull my phone out when it vibrates again and take a deep breath to calm my anger, seeing it’s Uncle Rocco.

I really don’t need him coming to find me and kicking the crap out of my sort of boyfriend, though, if I can figure it out, soon-to-be ex.

“Hey, Uncle Rocco, is this important? I’m at work,” I answer quietly.

“Peanut, I’m sorry to interrupt your day. I uh, look, I know you don’t want anything to do with people who knew your parents, and I know that you don’t want to see Lorenzo, which you haven’t done since you woke up in the hospital.” I flinch hearing that man’s name. “Your aunt wants you home tonight for dinner, and Lorenzo is going to be here with his family.”

I open my mouth to decline because that just seems like a night full of bad memories that I never want to remember, but Uncle Rocco quickly states, “You’ve barely been home, Paige. I miss you, your aunt misses you, and I know agreeing to this tribute is going to be hard on you. Please, please come to dinner… Lorenzo’s son will be here, and he has two small children that will adore you.”

I swallow hard and look down at my sneakers.

After losing Royal, being around infants was hard, really hard, but one night, I was fifteen, I think, I was walking back to my uncle’s after partying and found a little girl, no older than six, shivering and hunched down, trying to hide.

She was lost, and everything inside me wanted to help her, so despite being high, I helped her to the closest police station where, unfortunately for me, my uncle was called because, well, I was high.

The police praised me for helping the little girl who turned out to live in a foster home and got lost on a school trip, but no parents claimed she was missing because she didn’t have any, then put me down for doing drugs.

I volunteered at the local shelter for three years after that.

Sighing, knowing he won’t quit and will most likely come here if I don’t agree, I say, “I’ll be there at five.”

I hear him suck in a breath before he murmurs, “Thank you, peanut, I’ll see you soon,” and then hangs up before I can change my mind, and I pull my hand down and look at the cracked screen on my second-hand phone.

Royals’ gray eyes stare back at me, and my eyes tear up.

Uncle Rocco took the photo a week before the crash. He has folders of pictures with me, Momma, Daddy, and Royal, but this one photo of my little brother reminds me of the look he gave me before our car was hit.

Like I was his whole world.

Swallowing back the tears, I put my phone away and walk back into the diner which is still partially empty, the tables that are full already been seen too by me.

Ensuring no one needs anything, I go back to the counter. Andrew clears his throat, but before he can speak, I state, “I can’t do dinner tonight, my uncle needs me.”

I feel his eyes on me, but I ignore him and return to the napkins, refusing to let him see me break.

I really shouldn’t have shat where I ate.

A few hours later, I stand before my uncle’s two-story home in the countryside.

I took an Uber that I couldn’t afford to get here, but I didn’t want to call him and ask for a lift. I can’t let him know how much I’m struggling for money.

I gently tap my finger against my jean-covered leg, happy that the diner allows me to wear dark jeans with a normal black polo shirt.

I know I need to go inside, but then I’ll not only see memories of my momma laughing at Daddy and Rocco play fighting, but I’ll also see photos of my childhood that Aunt Tyra saved before selling my parent’s home before anyone could find out I was alive and I’ll meet the man who was in my hospital room when I woke screaming for my parents.

I haven’t seen him since. I know he’s been around, but normally, I’d stay in my room or ensure I’m not here but now, I don’t have a choice, do I?

Taking a deep breath, I climb the stairs and get my keys out before unlocking the door and walking inside. Laughter instantly echoes in the light hallway, and I swallow hard as I remove my shoes and hang my coat before placing my keys in the dish near the doorway. Then, I walk through the entryway and into the living area.

My aunt and uncle sit on the cream loveseat while a man I recognize from that day sits on the couch next to a woman with long, straight brown hair, whom I presume is his wife.

His hand is on her thigh, and he holds a little boy no older than one on his knee. My palms begin to sweat.

Little boys are always the hardest for me because of Royal.

Blinking back the tears, I notice another man with black hair on the other loveseat. He’s in a suit, and his arm is wrapped around a pregnant woman’s waist who is absolutely beautiful.

Dark red hair framing her face, and she’s glowing.

I notice Rhett on the floor, and a little part of me relaxes, knowing he’s here even if I haven’t allowed myself to get to know him over the years. He’s playing with a little girl who looks like the woman on the loveseat. Her red hair and messy curls make her look so innocent.

I feel out of place. I technically grew up here, yet I feel out of place.

I can feel my heart rate pick up, but I take deep breaths, walk further into the room, and make myself known, knowing Uncle Rocco will come searching for me otherwise.

“Hey, Uncle Rocco,” I mumble, and everyone looks my way, making me extremely self-conscious.

Before Uncle Rocco can move, Aunt Tyra gasps, “Paige,” and rushes my way, and takes me in her arms like she hasn’t seen me in months.

I chuckle lightly and hug her as I mumble, “You only saw me two days ago, Aunt Tyra.”

“Two days too long, missy,” she mutters back, and I hold her tighter, pressing my nose into her shoulder and inhaling her lemon scent.

After I lost Momma, Aunt Tyra became the mother I needed, and I’m grateful she never gave up on me, even though I deserved her too.

“Let the girl go, Tyra,” Uncle Rocco chuckles and pulls his wife back before taking me into his arms and whispering, “Thank you.” I sigh and lay my head on his chest as I grip his shirt.

“Anything for you,” I mutter back, and he kisses my head before pulling back and looking me over.

He frowns, “You’ve lost more weight.”

I roll my eyes and walk around him, stating, “I’m fine, I promise,” not willing for him to realize I’m on noodles at the moment before locking eyes with Rhett, who grins wide. I shake my head and say, “I should have known you’d be here.”

He shrugs, “I’m like the big brother you never wanted.”

I scrunch my nose and reply, “Yeah, but then honestly, if that’s the case, the situation I caught you in yesterday morning just makes it nastier…”

His eyes widen as the man sitting on the loveseat raises a brow and asks, “And what kind of situation did you find him in?” He looks at Rhett, then back at me, and says, “I’m Roman, by the way, and this is my wife, Morgan.”

I nod and give Morgan a small smile, which she returns before I turn and raise a brow at Rhett and cross my arms over my chest, waiting for him to explain the way he scarred me for life, but instead, he winces and looks away, making me snort while the little girl sitting by him looks at me and tilts her head.

I smile gently, and ignoring all the adults, I kneel as I hold my hand out and whisper, “Hi, my name is Paige.”

She looks at my hand and then back at me before slowly walking my way. She puts her hand in mine, and I smile as she whispers back, “I’m Emma. I like ice.”

I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, but I ignore them and lean in a little and ask, “Do you want to hear a secret?” she nods and leans in further, and I nod back, then admit, “I like ice too,” making her grin wide before she pulls me. I gasp out a giggle and crawl as she drags me to a doll size ice rink, not clocking that it was mine until the sweet little girl then passes me a doll with white hair and a blue dress wearing skates that I got for my fourth birthday, and my heart stutters before I look at Uncle Rocco.

He smiles gently and admits, “She found them in your room, I hope it’s okay…”

I nod once, look at the doll before clearing my throat, and then look back at Emma. I give her a small smile, hand it back, and ask, “Would you like to keep this one?”

Her eyes widen, and she nods enthusiastically before throwing herself at me, hugging me tightly, shocking me slightly then she turns back to my old ice rink, making the doll skate, and my heart skips a beat seeing it being played with.

“Peanut, are you sure you want her to have it?” Uncle Rocco asks carefully while everyone remains quiet.

Uncle Rocco probably expressed what it means to me, so I’m grateful they’re keeping quiet.

I keep my eyes on Emma playing happily with my old toys, and I nod and say, “I haven’t played with that doll since I was eight, Uncle Rocco. She’ll get more joy out of it than I ever will.” I look his way, “It deserves to be played with, not stored in a box.”

He nods, his eyes shining, and I look back at Emma, purposely ignoring the man on the couch which I know is rude but I just, I can’t face him, I can’t, and honestly, watching this little girl find joy in toys I couldn’t see myself donating brings me a little bit of light.

“So, Rhett, what did she walk in on?” Roman asks again a few minutes later trying to break the awkward silence, and without taking my eyes off Emma, I reply nonchalantly, “He was getting his hockey stick shoved somewhere a male shouldn’t have it shoved all because the puck bunny said it gets her off.”

I hear a choking sound, and I turn to see Aunt Tyra coughing, drops of her drink on her chin. I grin before looking at Rhett, whose face is white.

“Damn Rhett, I thought you left the crazies back in college?!” Morgan asks in shock as the men laugh, and he winces, looking at me, but I shake my head and mumble, “I don’t want to know,” before little hands grab my shoulder, and I turn slightly as I lock eyes with dark blue ones.noveldrama

I swallow hard and gently hold out my hand before the little boy grabs it with a grin, and I smile back, all while trying not to die a little inside as the little boy climbs in my lap and claps at his big sister playing.

Being here, with all these people that I don’t know but knew my parents, it’s killing me, but I’ll do anything for my aunt and uncle.

I just hope it doesn’t set me back….