The Pucking Wrong Man: A Hockey Romance (The Pucking Wrong Series Book 4)

I was on top of the world as I watched the game with Monroe, Blake, and a very pregnant Olivia.

It had been one of the best weeks of my life.

A strange week…but one of the best weeks.

Dallon had gotten jumped coming out of his apartment one morning a few weeks ago. The police thought it had been a targeted attack by a rival dancer or something because they’d gone after his leg with a tire iron.

Everyone at the Company was speculating about who could have done it.

Personally, I wasn’t sure that it had been a dancer—Dallon’s personality would lead to a lot of enemies. I imagined there were a lot of people who would wish him harm. On the plus side for Dallon, his injury wasn’t anywhere near as serious as mine had been—it was just a bone bruise. Of course, though, Dallon had declared himself unable to perform in the Showcase. Leaving me without a partner after I’d endured his torture for months.

A miraculous thing had happened then. Rudolf Fedorov, one of the top principal dancers in the country, had decided to come teach and perform at our company for a year. He had a reputation for getting bored, and had done year-long stints on leave from his New York company before. I had literally screamed when I heard the news. The opportunity to learn from him and watch him dance was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

When I didn’t think it could get better, for some unknown reason, Rudolf had volunteered to take Dallon’s spot in the pas de deux. I had almost fainted. I’d started my first practice with him on Monday. He was everything that Dallon was not. Professional, prompt, humble, kind, encouraging…the list went on and on. And on top of that, he was one of the most incredible dancers I’d ever seen.

He was also gay and happily married to a man named Ted.

So, the perfect partner for me to dance with in Camden’s eyes.

I’d been gushing about our practices every day. Camden would just smile fondly and listen patiently to every word that came out of my mouth.

I loved him so much.

“This baby needs to stay in here,” Olivia muttered, bringing me back to the present as her face scrunched up in pain. She’d been getting Braxton-Hicks for the past few weeks. I didn’t know much about pregnancy, but I was wondering if maybe her Braxton-Hicks had turned into real contractions.

“Should we get you to the hospital?” I asked anxiously, patting her shoulder awkwardly. I had become fast friends with all of the girls, but I was still timid around Olivia. I wasn’t sure that was going to change. She had been an idol of mine for too long.

“Absolutely not,” she said through gritted teeth. “This baby is staying inside until after this playoff round.”

I shared a look with Monroe and Blake.

The Knights were currently playing Nashville in the second game of the first round, and all of the guys were very focused on winning the Cup. They were the favorites to win—how could they not be with Lincoln, Ari, Walker, and Camden on the team? Walker was not going to go anywhere without Olivia, though, so the Knights could be down a goalie if the baby came soon.

It seemed Olivia was determined for that not to happen.

The crowd was a sea of blue and silver tonight, all of them screaming and waving banners. I sat on the edge of my seat, my heart pounding in my chest. I’d thought the regular season games were intense, but the playoffs were on a whole other level. The air was thick with tension and excitement, every cheer and chant vibrating through me.

I watched Camden, my eyes following his every move. He was a force out there, focused and determined, his eyes never leaving the puck. The crowd roared as he checked a Nashville player into the boards, reclaiming possession for the Knights.

Logan was also on fire tonight. He was playing much more sharp and aggressive, like the playoffs had pushed him to another level. He streaked down the ice, weaving through the Nashville defense. The puck glided from his stick to another player’s in a seamless play. My breath caught as Logan positioned himself in front of the net, waiting. The pass came, and with a swift flick of his wrist, the puck soared past the goalie and into the net.

“Yes!” I screamed, jumping to my feet as the arena exploded in cheers.

Logan’s face lit up with pure joy as he was mobbed by his teammates. His first playoff goal. The scoreboard flashed, and the Knights’ lead extended. I glanced at Camden, who raised his stick in a salute to Logan, pride evident in his eyes. The game clock showed there was still five minutes left in the period…and I really had to pee. I would just slip out right now to use the bathroom before the lines got long. Even the bathroom lines for the special ticket holders got long in between periods.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” I told Freya, the bodyguard Camden had hired me after he’d learned how serious the Michael issue was. It was still weird to me that I had a bodyguard…I’d literally been homeless not so long ago. But I could admit that it made me feel safer whenever I was out of Camden’s presence.

She got up out of her seat, and I followed her up the stands and down the tunnel to the bathrooms. “Give me one second to check them,” she said, and I nodded as she looked through the stalls one by one, finally clearing me to pee.

Which I was thankful for since I really had to go.

“I’ll be waiting right outside the doors.” I nodded and slipped into the stall, hearing the sound of the bathroom door thudding shut after her. The bathroom was quiet, the hum of the arena muffled by the thick walls.

Half a minute later, I heard the door open again.

“Everything okay?” I asked her, feeling awkward to be talking to her while I peed. I’d never had that experience of going to the bathroom with my girlfriends.

She didn’t answer, and the silence stretched on, now unsettling. My heart skipped a beat, and I peeked through the crack in the stall door. I didn’t see anyone…

I flushed and then opened the door cautiously, stepping out into the empty bathroom.

A second later, I was slammed against the wall, a hand gripping my throat. Michael’s face loomed over me, his eyes wild and crazed.

“Hello, little bunny,” he hissed, his voice sending a chill down my spine. “It’s been really hard to get a hold of you.”

Panic surged through me, and I clawed at his hand, struggling to breathe. His grip tightened, cutting off my air. Spots danced in my vision as I kicked and writhed, desperate to get free. “Let…me…go,” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper.

He smirked, enjoying my terror. “You think you can hide from me? You’re mine, Anastasia. You’ll always be mine.”

Just as I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness, the bathroom door burst open. Freya stumbled in. She lunged at Michael, her fists flying. Michael released me, and I collapsed to the floor, gulping in air.

The two of them struggled, Michael trying to fend off my bodyguard’s relentless attacks. He was no match for her, though, and I watched as she landed a solid punch to his jaw. He staggered back, blood trickling from his lip, and then he turned and bolted out the door.

Freya rushed to my side, her eyes filled with concern. “Anastasia, are you okay?”

I nodded weakly, still catching my breath. “I’m…I’m fine. Thank you.”

She helped me to my feet, her grip steady and reassuring. “He came at me from behind, hit me with something. I’m so sorry.”

I waved her off, still struggling to breathe. I leaned over the sink, my pulse wild and out of control. Glancing in the mirror, I winced when I saw how red my neck was, and how some of the capillaries in my eyes had burst.

Crap.

“I’ll get a message to Mr. James,” she said, watching me with wide, concerned eyes.

“No,” I gasped, my voice a little hysterical. “I don’t want to distract him from the game.”

“He’ll want to know,” she said chidingly. “We need to have a doctor look at you, and we need to report this to the authorities as well.”

“I’m fine. I promise. All of that can wait until after the game. Let’s just get back out there.”

She stared at me disapprovingly.

“Please,” I pleaded.

Finally, she reluctantly nodded. “But the second the game’s over, I’m reporting this.”

I nodded thankfully.

As we left the bathroom, the noise of the arena washed over me again, a stark contrast to the terrifying encounter I had just endured. My mind raced, trying to process what had happened. Freya was visibly nervous as we walked, her head bouncing around like a bobblehead as she checked for threats. I was the same way, sure that I was going to see Michael in the crowd at any moment. Neither of us breathed until we were back in the stands, going down to our seats.

I bit down on my lip when she touched the back of her head and winced. She needed to get looked at too.

Zipping my jacket all the way to my neck, I settled into my seat, pulling my hair around my shoulders in hopes I could hide the marks for as long as possible.

My neck was aching, though, and I really wanted to cry.

“Anastasia, are you alright?” Blake asked next to me. I smiled and nodded knowing they would want me to tell Camden right now, too, if I told them what happened.

“Yep,” I said instead, ignoring the side eye that Freya was giving me.

I must not have done a good job of faking because at one point Camden stopped in front of us too, mouthing, “what’s wrong?” through the glass.

Pasting my dance smile on my face, I gave him a thumbs up and he finally skated off.

But I didn’t think he believed me.

I couldn’t help but glance around right along Freya, continuing to look for Michael in the crowd.

The game raged on, the intensity never letting up. Nashville fought back hard, their players pushing and shoving, desperate to even the score. Walker seemed to take up the whole net, blocking every shot that came his way, and making it look easy. Nashville was relentless though, and the puck found its way to an open player, who lined up for a clear shot at the goal.

Before the puck could fly toward Walker, Camden dove in front of it, his body a blur of motion. The puck slammed into his shin pads and ricocheted away, the danger averted.

I jumped out of my seat, ignoring the flash of pain in my neck as the crowd roared. He was so freaking good.

The final minutes of the game were a blur of frantic action. The Knights held their ground, every player giving their all. When the final buzzer sounded, the crowd erupted, the noise absolutely deafening—we’d won.

“I’m calling the police now,” Freya snapped in my ear, clearly irritated she’d given into me. I nodded. I definitely wanted them to get Michael—I just hadn’t wanted to mess up Camden’s big night.

Michael had already messed up a million of mine.

I walked with the girls down the tunnel that led to the locker room, Olivia waddling the entire way because her belly was so huge. We waited around the locker room doors with some of the other wives and girlfriends.

Camden was the first one out. He took one look at me up close and it was all over.

“Who the hell did that to you?” he growled.

I immediately burst into tears.