Iron Cross (COBRA Securities Book 20)

by Velvet Vaughn

  “I signed the contract.”

  “Oh, Finn, that’s great!” She hugged him. “According to Shawn, it was a generous offer, though he didn’t tell me specifics.”

  “More than generous,” he agreed as his cell beeped. He checked the message and rolled his eyes. “It’s Kip in a panic, wondering where I am. I need to get to the locker room.” He covered her lips again for a long, deep kiss that centered him. She was becoming his rock. “See you after the ceremony.”

  #

  Kayla waited a few minutes after Finn left to gather her composure before she returned to her coworkers. He’d rocked her world. She was afraid her feelings would show on her face. She’d tried putting up walls to keep him out, but he scaled each one, and pretty easily, she had to admit. She had no defenses when he was around.

  She was thrilled he’d signed the contract. Shawn mentioned something about five years and the offer being practically obscene. Good. Finn deserved every penny. He was the Punishers.

  After readjusting the black and white sundress she chose for the event, she rejoined Mark and Kaiya and instructed them to wander around the arena, looking for any threats while she stayed close to Finn. They all wore their comm units to keep in touch.

  She walked up the small incline that led to the rink. The house was rocking. The crowd arrived early, and they were in a celebratory mood. Georgiana had gone all out for the party, as she called it. Banners, balloons and streamers hung from the rafters. A long stage had been constructed on center ice and another in the end zone where a band fired up the crowd. The place was packed. There wasn’t an empty seat in the house. People were even dancing in the aisles. It had to be a major fire hazard, but Pittsburgh loved their Punishers.

  A red carpet led from the bench to the platform where chairs had been set up for the players to sit. A microphone was stationed in the center. She wondered if Finn would give a speech and then decided he most definitely would. He was the star, the most valuable player and fan favorite. They would want to hear from him.

  Broderick Westfield’s unexpected passing ruined any celebration the team had planned after their victory. Finn told her that even though the trophy had been in their possession for a few weeks, tonight they would reenact the presentation. She didn’t realize it, but a member of the Hockey Hall of Fame traveled everywhere with the Cup, not letting it out of his sight.

  “There you are, Kayla.”

  She turned to see Finn’s teammate Jacques with a stunning redhead on his arm.

  “I told my wife about you, and she wanted to meet you.”

  “I’m Blair,” the woman greeted. “You’re amazing! I saw the video where you tossed Trevor Short. If anyone ever deserved a flipping, it’s him. He’s a piece of work.”

  “He is,” she agreed with a smile, liking the friendly woman instantly.

  “I’d love for you to sit with the wives and girlfriends so we can get to know you. We have a section near center ice. We have a great time.”

  How could she get out of it without offending them? Besides, a small part of her wanted to fit in with Finn’s friends. “I’d love to.”

  #

  Though Finn wasn’t feeling it, the atmosphere inside the arena was electric. Even from the locker room, he could hear the chants and cheers, along with the deep, pounding beat from the rock band Georgiana hired to warm up the crowd. From the sound of it, they didn’t need any help.

  He laced up his skates and stood to adjust his pads. They were required to wear their uniforms and skate a lap around the ice before taking their seats on the dais.

  He’d been afraid he’d find more crosses hanging in his locker with SSN or TL inscribed on the back, but it was empty. He felt guilty celebrating when Tammy was missing, and so many dead. Even Broderick. The former owner died right before they claimed the Cup. He’d have been over the moon happy. Finn wished he’d have hung on long enough to see it happen.

  Kip Pennington stepped inside and clapped his hands. “Okay, everyone, showtime.” He put a hand in front of Finn. “You’re coming out last.”

  The players lined up in the tunnel that led to the bench and skated out one by one as their names were announced. The noise level was deafening as he neared the exit. Finally, it was his turn. Kip put another hand on his chest as the announcer revved up the crowd, listing his accomplishments and awards.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the captain of the Punishers, the Most Valuable Player and the greatest player in the league…Finn Bates!”

  He emerged to an eruption of applause. He waved as he slowly skated around the rink. Flashbulbs blinked like disco lights as the entire arena stood on their feet, waving and cheering. An indoor firework display shot colorful sparks into the air behind the band. People tossed flowers and stuffed animals on the ice. He could understand the move for a young ice skater, but grown hockey players? Still, he caught a bouquet of roses from an overzealous fan and snatched one stem to give to Kayla. He skated to the stage and accepted the pair of skate guards their equipment manager handed him. He thanked Darrel as he affixed them over his blades before he climbed the steps and took his seat with the other players. Though it was hard to make out faces in the crowd with the dancing spotlights, he searched for Kayla. The players’ wives and girlfriends’ section was close to the bench. His gaze passed by before snapping back. She was sitting between Jacques’ wife and Dmitry’s. He had no idea how she ended up with the group, but knowing Jacques' wife Blair, she was doggedly persistent.

  His heart pumped faster. She laughed at something Blair said, and it was as if all the overhead spotlights zeroed in on her and the entire arena disappeared. She was all he could see. Time stood still when she turned to look at him. It just ceased. Even from a distance, he could feel the connection anchored in his soul.

  The moment was broken when the lights dimmed. Westfield Arena’s regular-season announcer had been tapped as the master of ceremonies for the event. He stepped up to the microphone and narrated as a montage of the season played on the scoreboards. Cheers sounded after every decisive play, goal scored, and hard-fought victory. When it was over, he spoke into the microphone again.

  “Let’s hear from the owner of the Punishers, Georgiana Westfield.”

  Georgiana emerged from the tunnel and strutted along the red carpet that led to the stage, waving to the cheering crowd like she was the Queen of England. Her pink dress hugged her curves, and her sky-high heels were barely toothpicks. He foresaw disaster when she neared the stage, so he stood to help her up the steps, much to the crowd’s delight.

  She made a show of kissing his cheek, and he instantly regretted the chivalrous act. He didn’t want to encourage her, but he didn’t want to see her break her neck, either.

  “Thank you, Finn, for the assist.” The crowd cheered. “Is that for me?” She grabbed the rose he’d meant for Kayla and sniffed. “Thank you so much. Isn’t he precious?”

  The fans roared again.

  Finn wished a hole would open in the ice and suck him inside.

  She smiled and waved as she adjusted the microphone stand, waiting for the crowd to calm down. Once they quieted, she said, “Thank you all so much for coming! You are the greatest fans.” She needed to speak quickly, or they’d never get through the night with the way the crowd was fired up. She talked about the season and the wins. Someone wrote her speech because she wasn’t around for most of it, having just met and married Broderick a few weeks before the playoffs. She spoke of her love for Broderick and how his death left her devastated. She promised to keep the grand tradition of the Punishers alive in his memory.

  Finally, she handed the stage over to Coach Silva. Coach hated public speaking, so his message was short, thanking the fans and praising the dedication and hard work of the players. Then it was his turn.

  He stood and took two steps to the mic. Coach patted him on the shoulder as the fans cheered. It took five minutes before the level was low enough where he could speak. Ripping a page from Coach’s playboo
k, he kept it short and sweet, thanking his teammates, Georgiana and the front office executives, the folks who worked in the arena from the concession workers to the Zamboni driver and finally, the fans. “This one’s for you, Pittsburgh.”

  They roared their approval.

  The announcer took over. “It’s time for the event you’ve been waiting for all evening.” A drumroll sounded. “The presentation of the Stanley Cup.”

  Spotlights zeroed in on the bench where Jaxon Hart of the National Hockey Hall of Fame carried it out. He lifted the cup aloft, much to the fans’ approval, as he navigated the red carpet. Once on the stage, he made a presentation of handing the Cup to Finn, who held it over his head. It was ridiculous since he’d done all this after the final game. Still, the crowd ate it up. Having the event a month after the season ended gave fans who couldn’t attend the finals a chance to celebrate with the team.

  Fireworks exploded, both the fans and music roared, and his earlier premonition of disaster started to unfold when Georgiana teetered on her heels, dangerously close to the edge of the platform. He thrust the trophy at Coach and lunged forward to catch her before she took a header off the stage. When he stood, it was to see Jaxon Hart holding a hand to his chest, his eyes rounded in shock. He lifted his hand and stared in horror at the blood coating his fingers.

  “I’ve been shot.”

  Since he’d been standing in front of the microphone, the entire arena heard his mumbled words. Chaos ensued. People screamed and rushed for the exits. The music screeched to a stop, and the lights snapped on. Finn caught Jaxon as his knees collapsed.

  “Get him out of here,” Coach demanded as he tried to keep the players calm.

  “Finn, what’s happening?”

  He didn’t have time to answer Georgiana as he lifted the now unconscious Jaxon into his arms and bolted off the stage. Red covered Jaxon’s shirt, and Finn couldn’t tell if he was still breathing.

  Kayla met him as he exited the ice. “How is he?”

  “Not good.”

  Clint came running from a side tunnel and rushed past him to open the door to the training room—the same place where he and Kayla made love not long ago. He forced the thought aside.

  “Bring him in here. I called for an ambulance.”

  Finn placed the man on one of the examination tables. While Clint gathered supplies, Kayla went to work ripping open his shirt to access the wound and mop the blood. Soon medics sprinted inside and took over. They must’ve been on standby outside the arena to have arrived so quickly. Finn backed away with his arm around Kayla while the paramedics worked on Jaxon.

  Georgiana tottered into the room, her face as white as a ghost. She beelined for Finn and threw herself into his arms. “What happened, Finn?”

  He eased her away. “With the noise and pyrotechnics, it was hard to tell, but someone shot him.”

  She swayed on her heels again, so he guided her to a chair. Those things were a menace.

  “What’s going on?” Kip skidded to a stop. “I was walking around the arena taking pictures when all hell broke loose. I was almost flattened in the stampede.” He spotted the man covered in blood and dry heaved, a hand covering his mouth. Finn assisted him to a chair next to Georgiana.

  The medics worked furiously on the hall of fame representative. Bloody gauze and bandage wrappers littered the area around the table. When they stabilized him, they loaded him onto a gurney and rushed him outside.

  Clint’s face was pale when he walked over. Finn was suddenly worried about his friend. Ever since he returned from the military, loud noises bothered him. Finn wasn’t sure what happened, and Clint didn’t talk about it, but he’d seen the reaction after a car backfired or an equally sharp sound. The raucous crowd, booming fireworks and loud music had to be hard on him. He was surprised he’d even showed up for the event.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I just didn’t expect to be dealing with a gunshot victim.”

  “You and me both.”

  Georgiana was still whimpering, Kip looked like he’d puke at any minute, but Finn needed to change out of his blood-covered uniform. He hated leaving Kayla for a moment, even knowing she could take care of herself.

  He leaned close. “Will you be okay while I change clothes?”

  “I’ll look after Georgiana.”

  He dropped a kiss against her lips, freezing for a moment. Yes, they were pretending to be a couple, but somewhere along the line, it’d become real for him. He stroked his thumb along her bottom lip and then headed to the locker room before he did something idiotic like professing his undying love.

  #

  Kayla watched Finn leave, her lips still tingling from the kiss. He’d caught her off guard. Even though they’d kissed several times before, each time his mouth touched hers, she lost all train of thought until he was the only beacon of light in her world. Shaking the thoughts away, she walked over to where Georgiana looked like she was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack. She detoured to the small fridge to grab a bottle of water.

  Twisting off the top, she handed it to Georgiana as she took the seat beside her.

  “Got anything stronger?”

  Kayla smiled. “I’m afraid not. Are you okay?”

  “My big night was ruined. I’ve been planning this,” she waved a hand in front of her, “since they won. I wanted a big celebration in memory of Broderick. Now it’s all a bust.”

  It wasn’t a good night for Jaxon Hart, either. Wisely, Kayla held her tongue. Instead, she said, “Judging from the crowd, they had a great time.”

  Georgiana threw her hands in the air, sloshing water from the bottle. “We didn’t even get to unveil the banner and raise it to the rafters. I had that made on a rush order specifically for this event.” She covered her face with her hand and started to cry.

  Kayla rolled her eyes. The woman only cared about herself. What about the man who was fighting for his life with a bullet lodged in his chest?

  Mark and Kaiya arrived, followed by two cops. She jumped up to greet them. “The shot came from the southwest quadrant, near the music stage.”

  One of the cops narrowed his eyes. “How do you know, ma’am? Are you the shooter?”

  “For the love of…of course I’m not. I have dozens of witnesses. I’m basing my theory on the direction the man was facing and the trajectory of the shot.”

  The other cop spoke into his mic, relaying Kayla’s information.

  Clint walked over. “How could you tell? It was so loud, I couldn’t hear myself thinking.”

  “From the way the slug entered his chest and he stumbled backward. It could only come from one direction.”

  “Wow, you’re good.” Clint assessed her. “How do you know that kind of thing?”

  She hoped she hadn’t messed up. “I watch a lot of detective shows.” Thankfully, he didn’t press for more details.

  She glanced over to see Georgiana had recovered swiftly and was currently flirting with a handsome policeman. Shaking her head, she headed for the hallway to get some air when Finn appeared. She almost whimpered as she walked into his arms.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m good. I’d love to get out of here.”

  “Let’s go.”

  “Wait. I need to talk to Mark and Kaiya.”

  She pulled the two agents aside and asked them to stay until the police finished investigating. Finn had given them a remote button to open his gate, so they could come and go as necessary. He took her arm, and they made their way outside.

  The parking lot had cleared out from the excitement. Finding her SUV was easy. Once they were on the way home, she brought up the subject that had been bothering her. “I noticed you lunged for Georgiana just before the bullet struck.”

  “Yeah, she was about to fall off the stage.” He slammed the brakes and pulled into the parking lot of a closed insurance agency. “I moved as the shot came in. If I’d been standing in the same spot, it might’ve hit me instead of J
axon. I was the target.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Finn hadn’t considered he was the target before, but it made sense. Why would someone want to shoot Jaxon? He was only in town to assure the safety and integrity of the Stanley Cup. That Finn lunged forward just as the shot came in was troubling.

  “We don’t know that for sure. It could’ve been meant for Georgiana.”

  The more he thought about it, the more it made sense that she was the focus. She’d come blowing in with her whirlwind romance and marriage. Suddenly, her husband dies. Unbeknownst to everyone, Broderick rewrote his will, leaving the team to her. Now, a few weeks later, she was already making changes and stepping on toes, especially those of Trevor Short and Broderick’s son. “Ricky.”

  Kayla turned to him. “What?”

  “Broderick’s son. Georgiana stole the team from him. What if he used the distraction of the crowd noise and loud band to take a shot at her?”

  He liked Ricky, had always gotten along with him. Finn couldn’t understand why Broderick changed his will and excluded his son. Ricky deserved the team. He’d practically been running things for years. It had to infuriate him that he now took orders from his younger stepmother. That was assuming Georgiana allowed him to continue working for the team.

  “Maybe Ricky was aiming for Georgiana and hit Jaxon instead,” Kayla surmised.

  Georgiana stole the team from him, so he would most likely want revenge. The ceremony was an excellent place to act. The noise level was loud enough to muffle a shot, and with so many people packed inside, it added confusion to the mix.

  “You know Ricky. Do you think he’s capable of murder?”

  Finn considered the question. At one time, his answer would’ve been an emphatic no. But he’d noticed the looks Ricky aimed at Georgiana. They were filled with pure hatred. “Not really, but maybe he finally had enough and snapped.”

  “I’ll call the hospital tomorrow for an update on Jaxon’s condition,” Kayla said. “What happened to the Stanley Cup?”

  Finn raised his brows. “I have no idea. I handed it to Coach when Georgiana was about to tumble off the stage. He’ll take good care of it.”