20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

T o my utter amusement—and Dean's embarrassment—he participates in my Saturday ice-skating class. I have never seen a man look so awkward in a pair of yoga pants and an athletic long-sleeve shirt. You'd think he was in his birthday suit.

"I feel too exposed," he grunts.

I chuckle. "I promise you look fine."

A little boy—the only boy in my class—stands beside him. His tiny elbow bumps Dean's hip, and he says, "Stop being so weird. Miss Lizzy is teaching, and you're interrupting. That's rude."

I bite my lip to stifle the giggle that wants to burst free. Dean looks down at him, slightly shocked, before his gaze flicks to me. When he sees me trying to hold back laughter, he rolls his eyes. "Fine. Sorry, Miss Lizzy, for interrupting the class."

"It's alright Dean. We are close to the end of class which means..."

"Free time!" the kids yell excitedly.

I clap my hands to get their attention again. "Correct! Alright, my little snowflakes, let's get the cones and equipment cleaned up. The rest of class is time to have fun."

The kids quickly skate around the rink to gather everything up, which makes it easier for me to put things away. I turn to find Dean looking at me with a pleading expression. "What now?"

"Can I PLEASE go change?"

I snort a laugh as I shake my head. "Go change, you diva."

He points a finger at me and glares. "I am not a diva. I don't like tight clothes! I am a hockey player not an ice skater. This"—he gestures wildly at himself—"is not me."

Laughing, I wave him off. "Go change."

He sighs in relief. "Thank you. Oh, glorious sweatpants and hoodie, here I come!"

After I finish helping the kids clean up, I wave goodbye. I make a few laps around as Dean makes his way out of the changing room.

He cups his hands around his mouth and yells, "Are you going to skate tonight?"

I give him a nod and skate over to my phone. Dean meets me at the edge of the ice, where the concrete walls divide the inside from the outside of the ice. Scrolling through Spotify, I find the song I've been practicing to.

As I hand him my phone, I hear the doors to the rink open. In walks Mac, quickly followed by the rest of my team. My jaw drops when all ten guys stroll in.

"What are you all doing here?" I squeak out.

Taz points to Dean. "Lewi texted that you were gonna skate, and we want to see what the amazing Elizabeth Monroe can do."

I send Dean a glare, but he just gives me a mischievous smirk. "You made me participate in class today. This is only fair."

I throw my hands up and huff. "How is this fair? You are taking the classes for scaring me!"

He shrugs. "You made me wear that weird outfit."

"It's normal attire for ice skaters," I mutter.

"And I'm not an ice skater," he counters.

These guys are going to drive me crazy! "Fine, whatever. Hit play on the music once I'm in the center," I grumble, then make my way to the center of the ice. "Got it!" he shouts.

I wasn't expecting an audience this big to watch me skate. It's a bit intimidating, to be honest. It's been years since I've had this many eyes on me while I skate. This isn't going to be an impressive routine, considering I'm not doing any jumps. I don't want to ruin the progress when my ankle is still healing after my last skate.

The first notes of Are You With Me by Nilu play through the Bluetooth system. I start with my head bowed, but as the music starts, I spin out of the center while one arm flares up, and the other flares down. I pick up speed as the first lines fill the room. I bring my hands up with my fingers flared out over my face, continuing up and over my head.

I go into a scratch spin with my hands above my head, then slowly bring my hands over my heart as I spin faster. Digging into the ice with my toe pick to stop my spin, I point to the audience. Oddly, Mac and Dean are standing where I point as the words echo around us, I need you here.

I skate toward them, then cut to the right as I pick up speed again. This routine is more about having fun rather than how many points I would get in a competition. I'm skating from my heart instead of worrying what the judges would think of my choreographed routine. It's a freeing feeling.

I add in a few spirals that feel right in the moment and point to the others as the chorus begins. The vibration and emotion in the lyrics fill the room as I spin. As the beat drops at the end of the chorus, I go into a low back spin.

I lunge out of the spin before lowering both knees to the ice, just as the second verse starts. I lower my back as my hair slides across the ice. My fingers gliding across the smooth surface before I rise. I kick out my right leg to spin and rise from the position. I pick up speed as I do a spread eagle, then end on a camel spin. Bringing my leg back in, I do another scratch spin before stabbing my toe pick into the ice to lift one arm toward the stands as the song draws to the end.

When the song ends, I find myself looking at Mac and Dean. My breaths are more like heavy pants as I stare at the guys, unable to take my eyes off them. Their expressions vary but most have wide eyes, filled with a mix of shock and awe. Dean's eyes appear have a sheen to them.

A sudden roar of applause makes me jump. I finally break eye contact to look around at everyone else. Vic and Taz are jumping up and down like little kids while whistling. I can't stop the laugh that bubbles up as I give them a bow. My hands come together in prayer position as I bring them to my lips. It's been so long since I had this type of attention, and I feel my eyes burn. I'm not sure if it's from excitement or the longing to be seen by others I feel as I skate. It could be both.

I skate over to where you enter and exit the ice, and before I can step off, I'm swung up into Vicy's arms. I squeal as I do my best to keep my legs from flying, so my skates don't hurt anyone. He gives me a tight hug before releasing me. "That was amazing!"

My cheeks heat. "Thank you."

Taz throws an arm around my shoulders and tugs me in for a hug. "Absolutely breathtaking."

My smile widens. "Thanks."

Each of the guys give me a hug and tell me how amazing I looked on the ice. Dean and Mac are last, both greeting me with wide grins.

Mac leans forward and presses a soft kiss to my forehead. "You are beautiful on the ice, Lizzy."

My cheeks brighten as I shrug off the praise. "I didn't do any impressive jumps."

Before Mac has a chance to reply, Dean softly nudges me and rolls his eyes. "You don't have to do impressive jumps to be beautiful on the ice, Ice Princess."

Their words make me giddy, but I try to hide it by giving them a dramatic eye roll. "If you say so. Are you guys going to wait for me to change?"

They nod, and Dean points to the others. "We're planning to head back and chill at the common house for a bit."

I nod as I slide my blade covers on and make my way to the locker room. "I shouldn't be long." They nod as I leave to change.

The moment I step into locker, someone snatches me from the doorway. I scream before it's muffled by a cloth is placed over my mouth and nose. In my panic, I take a deep breath, but my mind becomes hazy.

I hear a warped voice coming from somewhere behind me say, "Not too much. Don't want you out too long. Just long enough, so you won't fight me."

The last thought I have before the haze completely fills my mind is that my stalker must have found me . I'd grown too comfortable and blind with the safety the guys provided. I should have been paying more attention, now that I have my own place again. Please... please, find me.

Dean ‘Lewi' Lewis

Liz is taking longer than normal to change. I scan the rink to see if maybe we missed her coming out of the locker room, but I don't see her anywhere. A blood-curdling scream echoes around the rink, and my blood turns to ice. Mac, and I exchange a look, his eyes filled with just as much panic as mine.

"Liz," he grunts before taking off for the locker room.

Suddenly, the rink's sound system is filled with a distorted voice repeating, "Mine. Mine. Mine."

"Fuck!" I shout, looking at the others. "Search the entire building. Liz's stalker must have come back."

Their eyes, wide with worry, meet mine before everyone takes off running. I hear them scream her name as Mac and I race to the locker room. We slam through the door, looking around. The lights in the room are off, which makes no sense. After we've searched every inch of the room, we are forced to accept that she's nowhere to be found.

"How the fuck did they take her without us seeing?" Mac asks with a deep growl.

I have no fucking idea. This rink isn't as big as the hockey one, but it isn't exactly small either. There are so many places she could be hidden. What if she isn't even in the rink anymore? Panic builds in my chest as I pull out my phone with shaky hands.

"What are you doing?"

I don't answer as I pull up Liz's number and press call. When she went to change, I'd handed her phone. Holding my cell up to my ear, I frantically look around, waiting for it to start ringing.

I hear the faintest sound of Ghosts by Nathan Wagner, and I rush out of the locker room, pausing to figure which direction I need to go. Running to the right, I hear the song getting louder in the direction of the storage closets.

Loud footsteps sound behind me, and I look over my shoulder to see Mac trailing after me. I focus back on my mission, pressing the call button again when it goes to voicemail. I slow when we step into the hallway, listening to find where the music is coming from.

I stop in front of the door where I hear the music coming from. Wiggling the handle, I find it locked. So without hesitation, I take a few steps back before throwing the weight of my body into the door.

The moment it slams open, I'm bombarded by the scent of citrus. It's overpowering, but I try to ignore it. There's a shivering body in the corner, and I rush in but freeze once I'm closer. Her stalker blindfolded her and covered her ears with headphones. Her hands are tied behind her, and there's a gag in her mouth. The blindfold is soaked with her tears.

I tentatively reach out and pull the gag out of her mouth first. She begins to scream, and I wince as I quickly pull off the headphones and blindfold.

She looks around wildly, and I try to soothe her by holding up my hands in surrender. I don't mean to sound like I'm talking to a wild animal as I say softly, "We're here now. We've got you, Ice Princess."

Her eyes shoot up to mine, and I have to stifle a gasp. She looks like a ghost of her former self. Her skin is pale and clammy, and her body shakes with uncontrollable tremors. Her eyes are wide as she stutters, "D-dean?"

I bite my lip as emotions overwhelm me. What do I do? How can I help? I lower myself to the floor, so I'm more at her level. "Yeah… yeah it's me." I slowly reach out and untie her hands.

When she shoots up from her crouched position, I jerk and almost fall backward by the force of her jumping at me. I barely catch her as she wraps herself around me. Her hold is almost too tight as she chants in a hushed tone. "You're real. You're real."

I glance at the headphones and wonder what she was forced to listen to while we searched for her. My grip on her tightens as I say softly, "I'm real, Ice Princess."

Mac follows my gaze to the headphones and slowly makes his way over. He bends to pick them up before holding them next to his ear. His eyes widen before darkening with rage. When his eyes meet mine again, I almost shrink back from the hatre I see there. I've never seen my fun-loving friend look like he wants to kill someone before.

Her fingers tangle in my hair as she tries to snuggle closer. "Don't let go, Dean. Don't let go."

I manage to stand, and her legs wrap around me like a boa constrictor. Coiling around me as tightly as she can. I'm not entirely sure the best way to hold her so she doesn't drop. I slide my hands to the edge of her butt, and when she doesn't shy away, I get a better grip on her.

Whatever Mac heard on the headphones makes him throw them against the wall before turning to me. "Let's get the fuck out of here." He points to Liz. "She's coming home with us."

I nod, no point in arguing. I had already planned to bring her home with us or stay at her place. There's no chance of us letting her out of our sight again.

As we head for the door, we find a note stuck to it. Without even needing to read it, my stomach angrily churns.