Page 113 of Puck Me Back to Life

“I know.”

“I wanna fucking kill him.”

“I know.”

I turn toward the hallway leading back to the parking lot.

My phone feels impossibly heavy in my pocket. Kai still hasn't answered. For the first time all day, the anger gives way to something much worse. Fear. Because if Noah's first words about Kai are already filled with resentment, I can't imagine what happens when they finally stand in the same room.

By the time Dante finally lets me leave, the anger has burned itself down into something colder. Worry. It settles in my chest like wet concrete.

I don't remember deciding to drive to Kai's apartment. One moment I'm pulling out of the arena parking lot. The next I'm halfway across downtown, gripping the steering wheel hard enough that my knuckles ache.

He never answered my texts.

He never answered my calls.

He never came to practice.

That isn't Kai. Kai shows up. Even when he shouldn't. Even when he's exhausted. Even when he's carrying the weight of the world around his shoulders, he still drags himself to the rink because hockey is the one promise he never breaks.

Today he disappeared. That scares me more than Noah Grove ever could.

Twenty minutes later, I pull into the parking lot outside Kai's building. Then I realize something painfully obvious. I have absolutely no idea which apartment is his.

“Great.” I cut the engine and sit there for a second.

I climb out and head inside. The lobby is quiet except for the steady hum of fluorescent lights. A wall of mailboxes lines one side of the entrance.

I scan the names.

Hayes.

Apartment 612.

Lucky break for me.

I press the elevator button. Just before the doors close, someone wedges a cardboard box between them. The doors immediately slide back open. A woman stumbles inside behind it. The box is taller than she is.

She tries lifting one side. It doesn't move.

I step forward. “Here.”

She blinks up at me. “Oh.”

“I've got it.” Without waiting for permission, I lift the box.

It's heavier than it looks.

“Oh my God.” She laughs. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

The elevator doors close.

She studies me for a second. Then her eyes suddenly widen. “Wait.”

I look over.