And she panicked.
“I should go,” she said quickly.
“Eva—”
“It’s late. I need to sleep.”
“Wait—”
“Goodnight, Alek.”
I looked down at my glass, still half-full of vodka, lookedat the bottle on the table beside me, half empty now. I took a drink, then another.
My phone buzzed.
Dmitri
We need to talk about Jed Carter.
I stared at the message for a long moment then typed back with fumbling fingers.
Me
Tommiewiw.
Dmitri
Are you okay?
Me
Drhik.
Dmitri
Christ, Sasha. Get some sleep.
I picked up the bottle of vodka, put it down, picked it up again. Finally, I dumped it down the sink and went to bed, still clutching my phone in case she called back.
She didn’t.
29
TRISTAN
Eva wasn’tin the stands during warmups.
I checked my phone the second I got back to the locker room, that familiar knot of worry tightening in my chest.
I sent another text. My fourth of the day. She hadn’t even read them.
Me
Kitten, are you okay?
No response.
When the opposing team’s forward lined up against me, I saw red—I saw Jed Carter.