The Keeper (Playing To Win Book 1)

Fitz always has the team meet for a nine a.m. skate the day of a game. We hit the ice light for half an hour, then have to be back at the Battleground Arena two hours before puck drop. Max Kingston gutted this place while I was in high school. It had been falling apart before he bought it. Always on the list of worst arenas to play in. But now . . . Now it rivals any new arena in the country.

We’re moving slow this morning, but we don’t typically move at anything close to even half speed before games. Today is a little different for me though, because tonight, we play the Vipers. Nobody wants to go up against his former teammates, but especially not while it’s still so fresh.

“You got anything to add, Hayes?” Fitz asks after he calls us off the ice for the morning.

“Yeah. We’ve all watched the tape. You know these guys are good. You’re better. You’re more seasoned. They brought in a lot of new guys this year to try and stay under the salary cap and still keep their center happy. But they know me. They know my game. They know how I move. I’ve trained with them for ten years. I’m gonna try not to be predictable for them, but I could use your help tonight.” Nobody wants to look like they need help from their teammates, but I need to make sure they’re thinking this way if we’re gonna win.

Jace nods and looks around at the team. “You hear that, guys? Our goalie is laying it on the line. Are we gonna let him down?”

Boone throws an arm around me. “Fuck no, we’re not.”

“Fuck no, we’re not,” Jace echoes. Guess we’ve come to an understanding after all.

He follows me out of the locker room after practice. “Hey, Easton. Wait up.”

“Yeah, man,” I slow down as we head for the door. “What’s up?”

“You going with Lindy to meet with Sam today?”

“Yeah. I’m picking her up now, and we’re going over together.” I push through the door and stop in the parking lot. “Why?”

“Just glad she’s doing it.” He opens the door to his SUV and throws his bag inside. “She might not have needed that level of security ten years ago, but she needs it now. I appreciate you convincing her.”

“I didn’t convince her of anything. I told her I wanted her safe, and I wanted her in control. She needs to look at security as a tool that lets her live her life without being afraid of getting bombarded every time she leaves the house. I need her safe, man. But it’s gotta be on her terms.”

“You know I fucking hate when I’m wrong, Hayes.”

“Yeah, man. Most of us do.” I shoulder my bag, ready to get out of here and get to Lindy.

“Yeah, well it’s worse when it’s in front of the kid who could barely talk to me he was so starstruck the first time we met. I let Lindy down, and I didn’t really worry about letting you down in the process. I should have. She’s just always clouded my judgment. She’s my baby sister, you know?”

“Listen, I wouldn’t exactly say I was starstruck,” I laugh. “But I guess I get it. I’ve always wanted to protect her. The idea of letting her down has haunted me for fucking years. But I’m not the one you need to worry about hurting her. I never will.” I shove his shoulder, not sure what else to say. “I think she’s planning on coming to the game tonight. Maddox said he’d come with her if she doesn’t have security in place yet. Any chance you could try to smooth shit over a little with your family?”

“You’re good for her, ya big fuck. You know that?”

“Yeah, man. It might have taken me a few too many years to accept that. But she’s not getting rid of me. So I hope I’m good enough.”

“None of us are good enough for the woman who falls in love with us, man. None of us. We just have to do our best to earn it every day.”

Jace gets in his SUV, shuts the door, and waves as he pulls away.

None of us are good enough.

Guess it’s a good goddamn thing hard work doesn’t scare me.

Sam Beneventi’s office isn’t a place I expected to ever find myself.

I’ve watched my fair share of mob movies in my life. Read a few books. Heard a few stories. You can’t avoid them. Especially when you live in Las Vegas. But none of that prepared me to sit in this office and ignore the fact that Lindy’s brother-in-law, Maddox’s dad, is the head of the Philly mob. From what I’ve heard over the years, he owns a shit-ton of legitimate businesses too. But the Beneventi crime family has run this city for a century.

Sam’s in his forties. But other than a little gray mixed in with his dark hair, he doesn’t look much older than Maddox. Power rolls off him in waves. He’s intimidating as fuck.

When he speaks, you listen.

“Explain to me what you want handled differently, Madeline, and I’ll let you know if we can do it. I’m going to be honest with you. My team are professionals, and they make the final calls. You know that. If my men feel like they need to handle a situation a certain way to keep themselves and you safe, they’re going to do what they have to. But they’ll protect you at all costs.”

Lindy sucks in a breath. She knows that fact all too well. One of Sam’s guys, Marco, was her bodyguard on duty the night I took her home from a Kings game. I remember it like it was yesterday.

She was fifteen years old and spent the whole day trying to flirt with me.

Not that I didn’t want to flirt back, but fuck. She was fifteen, and I was nineteen, about to turn twenty. Nearly five years may not seem like a lot later in life, but it felt like it back then. I kept reminding myself she was too young and off-limits.

I drove Kenzie and her to the Kings game that day, but Kenz was spending the night at Brynlee’s, so it was just Lindy and me driving home, with her bodyguard, Marco, following in the car behind us.

I remember pulling into the driveway and turning off the car.

I remember talking about hockey and teasing her about figure skating. Teasing her about her partner, when deep down I was jealous because he was her age. That if something was going on between them, it was okay because he was the better guy for her. I’d never even told Pace that. Nobody knew how I felt because she was so fucking young.

She laughed at something I said, and it was the sweetest sound I’d heard in so fucking long. I was drafted into the NHL at seventeen. Everything was thrown at me after that. Women. Sex. Booze. Drugs. It was all there for the taking. There was no innocence in my life, not that there’d been a ton since my mom died.

I forgot myself for a second and cupped her cheek before I pulled my hand back and got out of the car. The look on her face was so fucking hurt. But fifteen kept flashing like a broken neon sign in my mind.

Marco walked ahead of us to the door, and she teased him as she handed him her key.

“You don’t have to be so dramatic, Marco. It’s my house. It’s not like we don’t have an alarm system you guys installed.”

He ignored her teasing and walked through the door with Lindy following behind and me bringing up the rear. By the time I pulled the door shut behind me, Marco was dead on the floor, and a man I’d never seen before was standing over him with a gun hanging down at his side.

There was no sound.

I remember being so confused in that moment.

Not understanding there was a silencer on the gun.

Not having a clue what was going on until bright-red blood poured out of a hole in the center of Marco’s head.

Lindy turned away, and a high-pitched scream I’ll never forget ripped from her throat.

Holy fuck. He shot him.

“You two.” He jerked the gun toward us, and I moved Lindy behind me. “Over there. Now. And don’t try anything. I don’t want you—either of you. I want your mom, little girl.”

Lindy sobbed hysterically as my fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and I had to push it down.

Holy shit. What was I supposed to do?

I sat us both down slowly on the couch.

Who the fuck was this guy? What did he want?

“Henry,” she cried. “Why are you doing this?”

Henry pointed the gun at her. “Because Ashlyn was supposed to be mine, not his. I need to make her see that. That’s where you come in. We’re supposed to be a family. Not him.”

He had to be talking about Brandon Dixon—Ashlyn’s new man.

What the hell was I supposed to do with all this?

Henry walked around to the back of the couch laughing at something. Who knows what. He pressed the gun to the back of my head, and I’ll never forget thinking I was gonna die.

“You’re pretty useless in this whole scenario. Maybe I should get rid of you now.”

“No,” Lindy sobbed. Her crying escalated, and Henry hit her in the back of the head with the gun.

“Calm her down and you can live.”

I wrapped my arms around her and pressed my lips to her ear. “Shh. You gotta calm down,” I begged her loud enough so he could hear me. Then I whispered quietly, “I’m gonna get us out of this, princess. You gotta trust me.”

Henry cocked the gun. “No whispering.”

I held Lindy tight, trying to figure out what the hell to do as he pressed the gun to her head again. We sat there, waiting. Silent tears racked her shaking body.

I’m not sure how much time passed before Ashlyn walked in, followed by Brandon. She screamed as she stumbled over Marco.

“Not a sound, Ashlyn,” Henry warned her.

“Henry, what are you doing?” Ashlyn took a step forward, but Brandon pulled her back against him, and I watched Brandon’s eyes. He was a big guy back then. Still is, but then, he was the center for the Philly Kings football team, and I remember thinking if we were gonna get out of this, he and I had to work together.

“Mom,” Lindy cried out. I lock my arm around her, keeping her in place.

We were not fucking dying that day. I remember thinking that like a mantra over and over. Trying to convince myself.

“What are you doing, Ashlyn? That’s the better question. Why are you living a lie?” Henry asked her, completely unbothered by any of it. He was calm, like he hadn’t just killed somebody’s husband. Somebody’s dad.

Ashlyn tried to get Henry talking. I think she was trying to distract him. But it wasn’t working. He was just getting more pissed.

“Step away from him, and I’ll explain everything, my pet.” Henry motioned to Ashlyn with the gun, and Brandon’s hold tightened. “Let go of her.” The gun moved to Brandon, and I was sure Henry was about to shoot him. “It’s his fault. He ruined everything.”

Ashlyn immediately moved away from Brandon toward the couch. “What did he ruin, Henry? I’m so confused.”

“How are you confused?” He waved his gun around, and Lindy’s nails dug into my leg as this psychopath put the gun back to her head.

“What’s he doing here, Ashlyn? He shouldn’t be here.”

“He lives here,” she told him.

“I’m supposed to live here. Not him,” Henry yelled back, and the sinking feeling came back tenfold. How are we getting out of this?

Henry was screaming at her. Spit flew from his lips. “You saw me. You finally saw me. After all these years. Do you have any idea how long I waited for you? Any idea the lengths I’ve gone to so we could be a family?”

I tried making eye contact with Brandon, but his eyes were locked on Ashlyn.

If I couldn’t get him to see me, we were all gonna die.

“I’ve loved you for so long, Ashlyn. Since your very first Nationals when you were fifteen. And you never saw me. Do you remember the way the seats would fill when you practiced during public hours? Do you know how many hours I sat in those stands, waiting for you to notice me? All those hours on the top bleacher, watching your every move. Every routine. Always hoping that would be the day you’d see me. You were so pretty. So graceful. I was there when you won your very first Nationals. I was there at the Olympics when you were robbed of the gold and that spoiled little bitch, Nina, threw a temper tantrum on the ice.”

Henry waved his gun around the room, and the cracks in his calm started showing. This was going downhill fast. “She ruined your chances, Ashlyn. She tainted you. It was all her fault that you were robbed of the gold. There was no way they were going to give it to you after the stunt she pulled. You’d worked so hard for the medal. It wasn’t fair. So she had to go.”

The room became eerily quiet until he pulled back on Lindy’s hair, and she cried out.

I fought everything inside myself to stay calm and focused on Brandon, not on killing this asshole for hurting Lindy and threatening our lives.

I refused to fucking die like that and pushed down my fear.

I forced myself to stay in control as Ashlyn kept Henry talking.

She knew what we needed. Now let’s just hope Brandon was understanding me. “What do you mean, she had to go, Henry? What . . . what did you do?”

I tuned out Henry’s answer and gave Brandon the slightest nod to see if he’d notice, and his eyes widened. Fuck. He saw it. I made promises to God if we got out of this, I’d do whatever it took to lead a good fucking life. And as this crazy fuck yanked on Lindy’s hair again, he pressed the gun tighter to the back of her head.

Ashlyn saw it and forced her way around Brandon, still arguing with Henry. Keeping his focus on her, instead of Lindy.

Henry lowered his gun, then pointed it at Brandon and Ashlyn.

“We’re supposed to have a life together, Ashlyn. I was even going to forgive you for her.”

I just had to wait for my time.

It was coming. I knew it had to be coming. We weren’t dying like this.

Not there. Not that day.

“We still can, Henry. You and me. Just let Madeline, Easton, and Brandon go, then I’ll go anywhere you want. As far away as you want.” Ashlyn took a tentative step closer, and Henry moved.

I remember thinking—That’s it, Ashlyn. Get him to move.

 “Anywhere, Henry. We can start our lives together anywhere. But you’ve got to let them go.”

Henry swung the gun toward Brandon. “He’ll never let you go.”

That was it. That was my chance. Thank fuck, Brandon was used to reading silent signals on the football field and knew innately what I was thinking.

I nodded at him, and he threw Ashlyn down on the floor at the same time I pulled Lindy down in front of me and out of the line of fire.

In a lightning-fast move, I twisted my body and grabbed Henry’s wrist with both hands. I was trying to control the gun.

Looking back, it happened so fucking fast, but it felt like I was slogging through quicksand back then.

I yanked Henry forward and ripped him off his feet, praying the gun wouldn’t go off and kill anybody.

This was it.

Our only chance.

I’ve never been as scared in my entire fucking life as I was when the gun went off. I didn’t know if it hit anyone until later, when someone told me it went into the wall.

Brandon hurtled his body over Lindy and me, like the couch was a fucking springboard.

He tackled Henry to the floor behind us, knocking over the fucking couch, with Lindy and me both still on it, in the process. We all fell to the floor as momentum carried us.

I threw Lindy at Ashlyn and turned to help Brandon, who had his hands around Henry’s throat and was slamming his head against the floor over and over.

Blood pooled beneath the back of Henry’s head as his face turned a dark purple.

Fuck.

He’s gonna kill him.

I have no fucking clue, even all the years later, how or why I pulled Brandon off. But I drug him back from Henry’s motionless body, lying limp on the floor in his own blood.

I wrapped my arms around him from behind and looked up when Sam’s cousin, Dean Beneventi, walked in front of us and grabbed Brandon’s face.

I’ll never forget the moment.

“You gotta stop,” Dean yelled. “You’re gonna fucking kill him. And as much as you want to, you can’t. Your family needs you. Go to them. I’ll handle this.”

Brandon pulled away and screamed at Dean, and I turned to look at Lindy, who was sobbing and shaking in Ashlyn’s arms. I was frozen in my spot for the first time all night. I couldn’t move.

We almost died.

She almost died.

Movement drug me out of my moment as Brandon ran to Lindy and Ashlyn, and Dean movds next to me. “You okay, kid?”

Was I okay?

No.

Nothing was okay.

I heard Lindy sob from across the room. “Marco. He . . . he shot Marco.” Then she pushed away from them, frantic. “Where’s Easton?”

“Right here,” I told her, and she climbed over Brandon and threw her arms around me.

“I thought he was going to kill us,” she cried.

“I was never gonna let that happen, princess,” I told her. I held her so fucking close, and in some ways, never let go.

“Easton . . .” Lindy lays her hand on mine, bringing me out of a past I try really fucking hard not to revisit. “You okay?”

I look at my beautiful wife, alive and happy, and kiss the top of her head. “Yeah, princess. I’ve got everything I need.”