Page 105 of Callous Shot

But as much as I wanted to hold on to this moment, I couldn’t. Twisting out of his hold, I shoved him back into the boards and skated away.

The rest of the game was a blur of the puck cracking against sticks, the whoosh of skates flying across the ice, and the shouts and harsh breaths of the players. We didn’t score again, but neither did Whelford, and when the final buzzer sounded, the rest of the Kings spilled onto the ice, jubilant that we’d managed to pull off a 4-0 win against our most hated rivals.

That was when the seriousness of the situation hit me all over again. I scanned the stands to find that the Thorpes, Volkovs, and Attwoods had either left or were hurrying to leave. The Bellinghams were long gone, but a lone figure paced the emptying stands. Culverhouse. My jaw tightened as he was joined by two other hooded figures dressed in black, and as my gaze lifted, I spotted more dark figures slipping into the rink.

“I don’t like this. I already know what you’re gonna say, but do you want backup? I don’t want you to have to deal with this shit alone,” Ryker said in a low voice as we left the ice.

I met my uncle’s gaze, taking in his resolute expression, and shook my head.

“Thanks, but no. This is a Hoyton reckoning. We’ve got this.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. One hundred percent sure. Neil wouldn’t want other people getting involved in our shit, especially with all the raids happening tonight. It’s best that you lay low until everything blows over.” I paused. “Actually, Ry, can you do me a favour? Get Lincoln far away from here. Please. I don’t want him caught up in any of this.”

His brows flew up. “What, you want me to kidnap him or something?”

“If that’s what it takes. Just make sure he leaves. This isn’t gonna be pretty, and I don’t want to be worrying about him when it’s time to teach Culverhouse a fucking lesson.”

“Alright,” he said. “Consider it done. Look, I know you don’t want my help, but can I give you some advice?”

“Yeah, course. What’re you thinking?”

He leaned into me, speaking low. “Aim to take them out with minimal damage. This is a public setting, and the culmination of Operation Foxglove is going down tonight. We can’t rule anything out. I know Sergeant Bellingham has spoken to Neil, but can you trust his word? How do we know this isn’t part of a bigger plot to take us all down?”

“Neil trusts Mike, and I trust Neil,” I said slowly. “But you’re right. Okay. I’ll take precautions. Do this old school, using these bad boys.” I lifted my hands, and Ryker snorted. He tapped my stick with his.

“You can take them. Easy.”

“I know I can.” I shot him a grin. “Time to go and fuck some criminals up.”

47

DAN

After the world’s fastest shower and change, I was ready. Coach seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation—or maybe someone had given him a heads-up—because he hadn’t even bothered with a speech, just told us to get out of here as fast as we could. Now my teammates were gone, and I had nothing more than my fists, my hockey stick, and my trusty brass knuckles, just in case. Oh, and I had a squeaky dog toy shaped like a bone that had somehow ended up in my bag. I blamed Volkov—his family was the one with the huge pack of guard dogs. Anyway, that one wasn’t a weapon, but you never knew when you’d need a distraction, and people seriously underestimated the attention squeaky toys drew.

I replayed my uncle’s text in my mind as I jogged back towards the rink.

Neil:

We have a plan. Come to the rink alone. This is our fight. STAY CALM

Steeling myself, I stepped through the doors and into an ambush. My arms were wrenched behind me, my stick dropping to the floor with a clatter as I was manhandled towards the stands.

My heart was racing, but I only made a half-hearted attempt to free myself as I assessed the situation. The rink had cleared out, and the exits were being guarded by huge, burly men dressed in black with balaclavas obscuring their faces. In the centre of the stands, my mum and Neil were surrounded by armed men, and Frank fucking Culverhouse was pacing up and down in front of them.

I studied Culverhouse, taking in his hard, weathered features as we moved closer. This man was the reason I’d grown up without a dad, and although my mum and Neil had been amazing and I’d never once felt like I was missing out, the fact was, he’d taken a parent from me. My dad had died because of him. And now, he needed to pay.

Where had my cousin gone? I had to assume there was a plan, but there was currently no sign of him, and the odds were stacked against us. If anything happened to my mum or Neil…

No. That wasn’t going to happen, not if I had anything to do with it. I needed to focus, to create an opportunity. I returned to assessing the situation. The men were shifting restlessly, which meant they were worried about something. Given the fact that almost all of the local police resources were tied up in the big Operation Foxglove raid, I figured it had to be to do with the fact that the longer we were here, the more time we had for backup to arrive.

I hoped backup was arriving, anyway. But in the meantime, it was up to me to get us out of this situation.

Nine men in total. One on each door, except for the one I’d come through. That man was currently marching me towards Neil and my mum, who were surrounded by four other men. All armed and presumably dangerous.

Then there was the wild card. Frank Culverhouse. The man who had caused my dad’s death and was back to wipe out the rest of my family.