Page 9 of Pay the Piper

“Not exactly. It’s for someone else. Someone who I love dearly, but I think they’ll be a frustrating student.”

Someone she loves? This could be it! My in with the Santori family. Maybe a cousin or something…

“Sure, I guess I can carve out some time for a lesson or two. Is it beginner or—”

“Oh, it’s beginner, or if there’s something before a beginner. We’re in dire straits here,” she snorts.

“In that case, sure! I’ll—”

Ellie practically tackles me to the floor with a bear hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best.”

“It’s no problem at all—”

“Do you mind if I have your number? I’ll pass it along to Misha. And I’ll send you mine.”

“Misha?”

Is Misha an Italian name?

“Yes! Oh, I think you and I are going to be great friends, Abby Reid.”

I can’t fight the grin on my face as I lean into Ellie’s embrace and allow myself to give in to the fantasy that this could be a real friend of mine. That I’m not going to stab this incredible woman in the back at the first chance I get.

“I’d love that.”

Chapter 5

How did my life come to this? I used to spend my days training, plotting, killing. Yet here I am, looking up at neon lights blinking Ice Factory. I understand the Rising Tide not letting me use their facilities to practice, but Teddy has a whole ass rink in his own backyard. One that I convinced his sister to build for him, no less. But no. “We don’t want to scare Abby.” I would give my life for Teddy or Ellie, but sure, let’s accommodate the woman Ellie met last week. At least they booked the place out for us for the next few weeks, so I’ll have privacy for my skating struggles.

I need to calm down before I actually scare the poor girl away. It’s not her fault I’m in such a bad mood. It’s not even Teddy’s fault for not letting me practice at the compound. I’ve been on edge lately because I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I should be in Russia right now, helping Mila. It’s separation anxiety, and it doesn’t help that she’s limited me to once-daily check-ins.

For as long as I can remember, my sole purpose in life has been to serve her. My days were filled with orders, so without them, I’m spiraling. I spent my life training my brain to hyperfixate on Mila and now that she’s out of the picture...I don’t know what to do.

I tried to put all my effort and attention into Thatcher, since he is technically half of my assignment. It’s nothing against him, and I love him almost like a brother already. I would do anything for that man…but Jesus Christ, I can only spend so much time with the guy before I need some space.

The other half of my assignment is a delusion. I hate to let Mila down, but I’m never going to fall in love. I couldn’t be more happy for her and Thatch, but that kind of happiness isn’t in the cards for me. Mila was born to be a queen, so it makes sense for her to have a partner at her side while she takes over the world. But me…I was born to be a killer. I’ve had my fun with plenty of women, but that’s all it ever is. Fun.

The buzz of my phone brings me out of my reverie as I look down to see a text from Ellie.

Ellie: Good luck at practice today! Tell Abby I said hi 😘

I send an eye-roll emoji, then pocket my phone as I finally gain the courage to walk into this shoddy ice rink. I’ve had more near-death experiences than I can count, but somehow, the idea of some sweet little librarian on skates has my heart rate up.

Punching in the code Teddy gave me, I open the door and make my way inside the old building. It smells like a mix of cleaning products, popcorn, and must, but something nostalgic about it makes me smile. It reminds me of the old arcades Mila and I would sneak off to occasionally as children in Russia.

“Hello?” My call travels throughout the building, echoing back as if I’m disturbing the ghosts of skaters past.

Nothing.

The lights are out in the front section, but the hall leading to the ice is blindingly bright, and a faint melody fills the lobby.

“Hello?” I call again as I enter the hall, but again, nothing.

It’s not until I have a full view of the entire rink that I realize why nobody answered.

The most mesmerizing figure I’ve ever laid eyes on moves across the ice so gracefully that I question my own reality. It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. I’ve always said my favorite color was black, but now, as I stand here, I’m torn between the emerald green of the spandex hugging her curves and red, like her long, untamed hair.

Despite the chill from the ice, I’m overheating. Perhaps it’s her fiery hair blowing behind her as she swirls, or maybe just my body’s visceral reaction to my attraction, but the longer I stare, the hotter I get. It isn’t until the sweat beading on my forehead begins to fall that I know I can’t stand here ogling her any longer.