13. Wick

Cannon had been right on the money.

Shit wasn’t okay.

And I didn’t have a damn thing under control.

Nicholl was hell-bent on finding Haven, and he wasn’t going to stop looking until he figured out where she was, starting his search with me.

He and his goons caught me right before practice.

After the night I’d had, I still wasn’t firing on all my cylinders and was running late. Almost everyone else had already cleared out of the locker room and were out on the field warming up by the time I rushed in to put on my gear.

So I was alone by the time I tugged on my shoulder pads and plunked myself down on a bench to lace up my shoes. I’d just stood up and was turning toward the exit when the first two assholes grabbed me from behind, locking on to my arms and yanking me back until my spine slammed into a closed locker. The shoulder pads absorbed most of the impact, but still…

“Ouch. What the hell?” I struggled to yank myself free. “Let go.”

Another two appeared next to the first pair