On Thin Ice (The Baltimore Banners Book 8)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  “JP just invited him to stay at his place.”

  “When the hell did you start speaking French?”

  Brad shrugged and grabbed his shower kit. “I picked up enough when I was in the major juniors. Being around JP the last few years brought most of it back.”

  Kenny grunted then made his way to the showers. At least Corbin would have some place to stay, something better than a hotel. That’s usually what Kenny had done but he had been dealing with short-term moves. With Alec out indefinitely, Corbin would probably be with the Banners for a bit. Better that he was staying with someone from the team instead of in some hotel.

  Kenny finished with his shower, ignoring the laughing and joking going on around him as he dressed. Now that practice was over and he had nowhere else to aim his focus, his mind drifted back to this morning at Lauren’s place. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the things he’d heard coming from her sister’s mouth.

  The accusations. The vulgarity. The disdain and hatred. He remembered Lauren’s face, how the color had drained and her mouth had trembled. Her shock had been like a living breathing thing, tearing into him with sharp claws that drew blood and left a stinging ache. And if he felt like that, how was Lauren feeling? He had wanted to stay, to fold her in his arms and do nothing more than hold her. Protect her.

  To rail at her sister and forcibly remove her. Had Lauren seen that sudden urge in his face? Was that why she’d asked him to leave? Or was it simply a matter of being embarrassed? Of not wanting him to witness a private family matter? Screw that. Lauren had nothing to be embarrassed about, and certainly not on her sister’s behalf. As far as Kenny was concerned, the best thing she could do was kick her sister out.

  What were the words Harland had used? Off. He’d said she was off somehow. Kenny had a better word: toxic.

  Was she on something? Was there something else going on? He didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, there was no excuse for what she’d said.

  An image of his own sister came to mind. Kelly, with her soft voice and smiling face, her easy spirit and willingness to help anyone in need. If something happened to Kelly, if she had suddenly started acting like Lauren’s sister, would he kick her out?

  No. He’d be confused and hurt. Worried. And he’d do whatever he could to help her. What he wouldn’t do is just allow the behavior to continue, which is what Lauren seemed to be doing.

  “Dammit.” He lowered his head into his hands and took a deep breath. He needed to let it go, not worry about it. It wasn’t his place. It didn’t concern him. He shouldn’t be getting in the middle of it, not when he didn’t even know exactly what was going on.

  “Haskell! You coming or what?”

  Kenny looked up, not surprised to see Harland standing at the door, waiting for him. Randy stood next to him, arms crossed in front of his broad chest.

  “Yeah. I’m coming.” He grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it as he made his way over to them. He looked at Randy, one brow raised in surprise. “What are you still doing here? I figured you would have headed over already.”

  “Not yet, I’m meeting someone. That, and I need favor from you.”

  “From me?” Kenny narrowed his eyes. “What kind of favor?”

  “I need you to play in the charity exhibition in two weeks.”

  “What? No way. That’s just before the holidays. My sister’s coming into town with my niece.”

  “Just say yes. He’s already got half the team agreeing to it.” Harland moved ahead of them, leading the way out of the locker room.

  “Not happening.”

  Randy clapped him on the back, hitting him a little harder than necessary. “Yes it is. Just bring them along. It’s going to be a family day thing.”

  “No.” Kenny shook his head and stepped to the side, trying to dislodge the man’s hold on his shoulder.

  “Didn’t you hear me? It’s for charity.”

  “What kind of charity?” And shit, he should have never asked. That was almost like saying he’d do it.

  “For the local burn unit. It’ll just be a quick game with shortened periods. The fire department is hosting it.”

  “No.” Kenny shook his head again. “Not happening. No.”

  “Just say yes already. You know it’s inevitable.” Harland pushed through the doors leading to the rink, stepping to the side and holding them open for Kenny and Randy.

  “If it wasn’t for Kelly and Sara coming into town, I’d say yes. But I already made plans.”

  “Just bring them. It’ll be fun. They’re even going to have games for the kids.”

  “My niece is three. I don’t think she’s ready to be out on the ice yet.”

  “Not those kinds of games. I mean kids’ games. Like a bouncy house and all that other shit. And face-painting. Little girls like stuff like that.”

  “Yeah, because you’re suddenly an expert on what little kids like.”

  “Only because he’s still a kid himself.” Harland laughed then quickly stepped out of the way as Randy moved to hit him.

  “Kiss my ass.”

  “No thanks, I’ll pass.”

  Randy ignored him and turned back to Kenny. “I’ll mark you down as a yes.”

  “Come on, man. Don’t. I said no, I can’t.” Kenny paused, his eyes resting on a solitary figure standing near the door. He blinked as recognition slowly dawned. It was Lauren’s brother, Dale.

  His gut twisted, anxiety almost doubling him over. Was something wrong? Had something happened to Lauren? Why else would Dale be here? Kenny’s feet froze in place, his entire body stiffening with worry and dread. Randy muttered something and stepped around him, moving toward the man. He reached out to shake his hand, laughed at something the man said.

  What the hell?

  Kenny drew in a deep breath, the action unfreezing him. He glanced at Harland, shook his head, and hurried over to the other two men. He pushed his way in front of Randy and faced Dale. “Is everything okay with Lauren?”

  The words were too sharp, drawing a curious look from Randy and Harland. Dale turned, a frown on his face that cleared when recognition lit in his eyes. Then Kenny’s words registered and he frowned again.

  “She’s fine. Why? Did something happen?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t think so…” Kenny’s voice drifted off as he looked between the two men. Randy was watching him like he’d suddenly grown a third head.

  “You guys know each other?”

  “What? No. Not really.” Kenny shifted, suddenly uncomfortable at the looks he was getting. He cleared his throat. “I mean, we’ve met, yeah. Uh, do you guys know each other?”

  “Yeah. This is Dale Gannon. He’s the guy from the fire department who’s coordinating the exhibition game.”

  Kenny forced his mouth closed, knowing he had to look like an idiot. He swallowed and tried to force a smile to his face. “Sorry. My bad.”

  And God, he really was an idiot. What on earth had possessed him to think the worst? To just go running up and spouting off at the mouth? No wonder everyone was looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

  Dale watched him, that deep frown on his face. “Are you one of the guys playing, too?”

  “No. I already told—”

  “Yeah, he’s playing.” Randy spoke right over him, drowning him out.

  “No shit. Lauren will probably get a kick out of that.”

  “She will? Why?”

  “Because she’s playing, too.” Dale uncrossed his arms and stepped closer to Kenny, his frown deepening over dark eyes that were nowhere near as warm as his sister’s. “Now why don’t you tell me why the hell you looked so panicked, convinced that something happened to my sister?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “No. No, no, and no.” Lauren fisted her hands, nearly snapping the pen she was holding. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her temper.

  Trying not to lunge over the desk and go after her brother.

  Dale and Rick stood in her of
fice, their large bodies taking up too much room in the small space. It didn’t help that she was sitting while they stood, towering over her, making her feel small. Dale leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his face completely blank. Only his eyes betrayed any emotion, the dark brown flashing with impatience, with anger.

  At least Rick got partial credit for looking a little more understanding. Or maybe just curious. And only partial credit because behind his curiosity, she could see his disbelief. He hadn’t said anything yet, though, and Lauren wondered if he was just waiting to hear her side—or if he realized it was safer for him to stay quiet.

  She slid her chair out and stood halfway, leaning forward to rest her palms against the cluttered surface of her desk. She narrowed her eyes and fixed Dale with a look that conveyed every bit of her own anger and irritation.

  “We are not discussing this. Not here. Not now. Not later. It doesn’t even concern you.”

  “Don’t tell me it doesn’t concern me! You’re my damn sister, it sure as hell concerns me.”

  “So is Lindsay but I don’t see you worrying about her!”

  Anger flashed in Dale’s eyes, hot and piercing. The muscle in his jaw ticked several times as he held her gaze, refusing to back down. He finally looked away but only long enough to glance at Rick. Something passed between, some silent communication. She didn’t need to hear it to know he’d just asked Rick to leave.

  Dale closed the door behind him, the click too loud in the shrinking room. He stepped closer to her desk and leaned on it, his face only inches from hers. His voice was too quiet, almost lethal. “I stopped worrying about Lindsay almost two years ago when she stormed out and hurt Mom and Dad.”

  Lauren stepped away from the desk, trying to put distance between them—trying to distance herself from Dale’s words. She lowered herself to the chair, her hands curled loosely against her legs, her eyes focused on a spot behind Dale. She had no idea how to respond, no idea what to say. Her silence must have frustrated him because he straightened with a loud sigh and ran his hands along his face.

  “That was two years ago, Dale. You shouldn’t judge her—”

  “Judge her? Christ, Lauren, listen to yourself! She hasn’t changed. If anything, she’s gotten worse. How can you sit there and keep defending her?”

  “I’m not defending her!”

  “What the hell do you call it? You keep making excuses for her, keep acting like she’s changed. Yeah, she’s changed, alright. And it hasn’t been for the better.”

  “How can you stand there and say that? She’s our sister!”

  “Because it’s the truth!” Dale threw his hands in the air, looking like he wanted to hit something in frustration. “I don’t get it. You’re usually so reasonable, so level-headed. But when it comes to Lindsay, it’s like you’ve got blinders on or something. You refuse to see her for what she really is.”

  “That’s not true.” But even as the words left her mouth, Lauren knew they were a lie. She didn’t want to see the person Lindsay had become, didn’t want to acknowledge that she no longer knew who her sister was. If she did, it would be like acknowledging that her sister was really gone. Acknowledging that she didn’t like the person her sister had become.

  Acknowledging that she’d given up hope.

  She couldn’t do that. She refused to do that. But God, it was getting harder and harder not to do just that very thing. Dale didn’t see it that way. He was too cynical and entirely too capable of sealing his emotions away, of burying them so far below the surface that they didn’t matter. Was it because of his job as a firefighter? Probably. She knew he dealt with things on a daily basis that forced him to do that. If he didn’t bury his emotions, if he let everything get to him, she doubted he’d still be in the fire department. She understood that, she really did. But this was his family they were talking about, his own sister. It shouldn’t be so easy for him to just shut himself off from his own family.

  And maybe it wasn’t. Maybe his anger was a sign of that. Maybe his frustration was because he couldn’t really shut himself off when he wanted to.

  And maybe she was just so deeply entrenched in seeing what she wanted to see that she was reading into things.

  “Lauren, you’re not helping her by keeping your eyes closed. Nobody can help her until she’s ready to help herself.”

  “You make it sound like’s some kind of…of addict or something. She’s not.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But she’s hell-bent on destroying herself and she’s willing to take down everybody else with her.”

  “She’s still young—”

  “Lauren, she’s twenty-one. An adult. What was I doing at that age? What were you doing at her age? You have to stop making excuses for her.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Really? What do you call it?”

  Lauren pursed her lips and looked away, no longer able to meet Dale’s furious gaze. She didn’t have an answer for him, didn’t know what to say—because he was right. She had been making excuses for Lindsay, ever since she moved in. Even as recent as this morning.

  Dale blew out a deep breath, some of the tension leaving him as he sat on the edge of her desk. His eyes softened, filled with worry instead of frustration. “Lauren, you have to stop it. You have to let it go before she ends up destroying you, too.”

  “I know.” She dropped her head into her hands and ran her fingers through her hair, brushing the strands back until she could clasp her fingers behind her head. “I know. I just…I keep hoping, thinking that maybe…”

  She let her voice drift off, unable to finish, unable to find the right words because there weren’t any. Dale was right. She knew he was right. But part of her didn’t want to admit that, didn’t want to give up. Because what if she gave up when all Lindsay needed was just one more chance? One more push, one more encouraging word to turn things around? If Lauren didn’t give her that, who would? Not Dale. Not her parents. Certainly none of Lindsay’s friends, whoever they might be.

  “So tell me what happened this morning.”

  “Why? Sounds like you already know.” Lauren didn’t bother hiding the impatience and irritation in her voice. That was just one more thing she didn’t want to face: the fact that Kenny had gone running to her brother, telling him about this morning’s drama. It hadn’t been his place; he’d had no right.

  “Lose the attitude.”

  “No, I won’t. I don’t feel like dealing with that on top of everything else.”

  “Dealing with what?” Dale’s voice turned sharp again, unsympathetic.

  “With Haskell, running to you like a little tattletale.”

  “Get over it, Lauren. He didn’t go running to me. I ran into him when I had that meeting at the rink and he thought I was there because of you.”

  “That didn’t give him the right to say anything.”

  “Oh, bullshit. You guys are obviously together. I’d say he has every right to be worried.”

  “We’re not together.”

  “Oh yeah? Then what the hell was he doing at your place at seven in the morning? Dropping off the morning paper?” No way was she answering that one, not when Dale was studying her so closely. He knew it, too, because he didn’t push. “So what happened?”

  What happened? Lauren was still trying to figure that out, still trying to wrap her head around everything Lindsay had said and done. She took a deep breath and finally shrugged. “I’m not sure. She came home with her usual attitude, bitching and complaining. And when I asked her where she’d been, she told me—” Lauren stopped, not willing to tell Dale everything Lauren had said, the harsh lies and biting words meant to deliberately hurt. “She lied. I don’t know why.”

  “Did she really say she’d been with Haskell?”

  Lauren cut her gaze to Dale, saw his eyes narrowing as he watched her, his dark eyes completely focused on her face, on her expression. She looked away. “Yeah.”

  “Then called you a bitch
?”

  “Yeah.” The admission was barely loud enough to be considered a whisper. Lauren didn’t even know why she bothered to answer, because it was obvious Dale already knew.

  “And you didn’t toss her ass out?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Christ Lauren! What’s it going to take? She steals your credit card, she steals your car—”

  “She didn’t steal it.”

  His eyes narrowed as he talked right over her. “Steals your car. Lies about sleeping with your boyfriend, calls you names. What the hell is wrong with you? I don’t get it.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “That’s your comeback? Seriously? I’m so pissed off, I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

  “Good, because I’m done talking.”

  Dale pushed away from the desk, each movement tight and controlled. A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw and Lauren was positive he wanted to hit something, to scream and yell. But he just stood there, watching her, his face carefully blank. “You need to get your head out of the clouds, Lauren. And watch your back. I don’t trust Lindsay, and neither should you.”

  He watched her for a few more minutes, his dark eyes filled with a seriousness that made her uncomfortable. She shifted in the chair, pulling her gaze away to study the numbers filling the computer screen. He blew out another breath, long and deep, then opened the door and walked out without another word.

  Lauren leaned back in the chair, her body going limp after being held so rigid for the last hour. Her mind whirled, filled with thoughts and emotions she didn’t want to study, didn’t want to acknowledge.

  Because Dale was right and Lauren didn’t want to admit it. And if she was forced to be honest—with him, with herself—she’d admit that she didn’t trust Lindsay, either. The little sister she remembered growing up was gone, replaced by someone who was bitter, resentful. She didn’t know the person her sister had become, didn’t want to know her.