Page 32 of Callous Shot

“Hello.”

I blinked, realising the door was cracked open, and a girl with dark hair was studying me quizzically. She was probably around ten or eleven, at a guess.

“Are you a witch?” was the first thing that came from my mouth, and she giggled.

“I saw you on the doorbell camera.” Well, that didn’t answer my question. I opened my mouth again, but she took a deep breath and shook her head. “I’m not a witch.”

Hmm. I couldn’t rule anything out at this point. How had I ended up here, when I couldn’t even remember making a conscious decision to do so?

“Are you sure you’re not a witch?” I studied her through narrowed eyes, and she laughed again, shaking her head. Okay. Maybe I was being paranoid. “Haven’t you been taught not to talk to strangers?”

Her eyes brightened. “You’re not a stranger. You’re Ganon.”

What. The fuck. “Ganon? That’s not my name.”

“That’s what my cousin calls you, because you’re his nemesis.”

Her cousin. Who I was apparently the nemesis of. My stomach churned. Oh, fuck no. “Your cousin isn’t⁠—”

The door suddenly swung open, and I was face to face with none other than Sergeant Michael Bellingham, currently spearheading the small local task force that was part of the Operation Foxglove investigation. Aka the man who was actively working against me, my family, and my closest friends.

Shit.

“Uh… Hello, Sergeant. I didn’t know you lived here.” I rubbed at the back of my neck as my heart tried to pound its way out of my chest.

“Clearly,” he said drily. “Care to tell me what you’re doing, trespassing on private property?”

“Uh…” I said again. “I was looking for Lincoln?”

He snorted. “Nice try.”

“Honestly, I didn’t know you lived here.” He wasn’t going to arrest me, was he? Neil and my mum would be seriously pissed off if that happened, and I was way too pretty for prison. “I was heading up to the mansion, and I got a bit lost and saw your gingerbread house, and⁠—”

“Gingerbread house?” His brows rose.

“Yeah, like Hansel and Gretel. Y’know, that cottage in the woods that the witch lives in, and she wants to eat them…” I trailed off as he smirked at me. “Whatever. The point is I didn’t know this was here. I thought you lived in, like, a wing of the mansion, like my mum and uncle do in our house.”

All traces of amusement disappeared from his expression. “No,” he said shortly.

“Okay. Uh, sorry. I’ll just go.” I took a step back, but his arm swept out, beckoning me forwards.

“Mr. Hoyton. Please, come inside.” It wasn’t a request.

Gritting my teeth, I stepped over the threshold, into the stronghold of the enemy.

16

LINCOLN

Pulling into one of the spaces at the almost-empty car park in the local town of Nottswood, near my family estate, I brought my SUV to a stop and switched off the engine. Tipping my head back against the headrest, I closed my eyes with a groan. If only I didn’t have this ridiculous superstition about needing to store my gear at our home rink. If only I hadn’t gone to pick it up before our away game against Oxford yesterday. If only I hadn’t offered to help that employee carry boxes. If only I’d kept my mouth shut when I saw the Cranham Kings captain and his teammate. If only…then maybe Daniel Hoyton wouldn’t be in my head.

But no, I had to open my mouth. I’d spoken without thought, and now I couldn’t get the interaction out of my mind.

My eyes narrowed as I took in Ryker and Jayesh standing at the top of the mezzanine stairs. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the game?”

Jay’s brows rose. “Shouldn’t you?”

Placing the stack of boxes on the counter for the rink employee, I regarded him flatly. “As you can see, I’m busy. Where’s the third member of your little trio?”