The Penalty Box (Vancouver Wolves Hockey #3)(49)

I moved to the side and flicked on all the back lights so the deck was flooded in light.

I stifled a scream.

A menacing, towering figure was propped up in the middle of the deck. It looked like a homemade evil scarecrow. It was at least seven feet tall with a long black coat that hung to the ground. Arms made of stick and straw stuck out from its body, giving it the appearance of having claws for hands. Its face was something out of a horror movie. A burlap sack stitched together so it had dark black eyes, a puckered mouth, and a pointy nose.

I slammed the curtains shut before running to the front door to make sure the alarm system was on.

“Check the house,” I told Sniper.

I followed as he systematically moved from room to room, standing on his hind legs to look out the windows before determining that the threat was gone.

He was now lying on the floor with one of his stuffed toys between his paws, eyes shut. I decided not to text Mica. He would be home tomorrow morning and I could just show him. There was no point in sending him any details.

I poured myself a glass of wine and paced. Was this Yazimoto? Whoever it was had a beef with me, because this shit only happened when I was home alone. The fact that someone knew I was home alone freaked me out.

You’re safe. Sniper will keep you safe.





*



I woke up to the sound of the front door beeping.

“Hey, boy. How are you? I missed you, you know that?” Mica’s voice sounded from the kitchen. I smiled into my pillow at the sound of his voice.

Wanting to see him, I slipped out of his bed and walked down the hallway. Mica was crouched down, giving Sniper a good face rub. He looked good. Tired but good.

“You’re home early. You could have called me to pick you up.”

He stood up, and his blue eyes watched me as I walked into the kitchen. I wanted to throw myself in his arms, so I crossed my arms over my body and smiled instead.

“We flew in earlier than planned, so I just took a cab home.”

“You must be tired.”

“I slept on the plane.” He studied me. “How are you?”

I nodded and moved to the kitchen to put on some coffee. “Good. Do you want some breakfast?”

Sniper moved to the back door and Mica followed him to let him out.

“Mica,” I tried to warn him, belatedly remembering last night’s event.

He pulled back the curtains and a stream of Russian came out of him. He looked over his shoulder at me. “What the fuck?”

I came around the island and stood beside him. The scarecrow was no less scary in the morning light.

“Last night Sniper warned me something was going on. I opened the curtains, and that was there.”

Mica stood completely still, staring at the scarecrow. His nostrils were flared in anger. I watched in fascination as he swallowed all that angry emotion down before he turned to me with true concern in his eyes. “I’m sorry this is happening, Charlie.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He started to say something but his phone interrupted him. His face hardened when he saw the caller. “I have to take this.”

I wandered back to the kitchen to finish putting the coffee on while he stepped onto the deck, speaking in Russian. He sounded upset, angry even.

He reappeared in front of the island, his voice super serious. “We have a situation.”

Did this have to do with his mysterious Russian friends?

“Okay.”

He grimaced. “My mom found out I was married. She’s coming for a visit.”

“Your mom?” I repeated, dumbfounded.

“Yeah.” He did not look happy.

“When is she coming?”

“She’s at the airport. She’s taking a cab and will be here in about twenty-five minutes.”

“What?” I froze.

“She usually stays in a hotel but this time, she is insisting she stays here. She wants to get to know you.”

“But she knows this marriage is… temporary, right?”

He winced. “Not exactly. She would never understand that.”

I couldn’t judge. I had no idea what kind of relationship he had with his parents. “Okay, that’s okay.”

“You sure?”

I looked towards my bedroom. There were two guest rooms, but only one of them had furniture. “Where is she going to sleep?”

He paused and faltered. “Can we give her the guest room?”

Which meant I would sleep in the master bedroom. I didn’t even want to think about that, but I would do anything I could to help Mica out. “Of course.”

I would deal with sharing a bed later on.

“We need to move your stuff into my room and make it look like we are together.” He sounded pained.

“What time did you say she’s going to be here?”

He glanced at his watch. “Twenty-five minutes?”

Together we hustled. I cleared out my entire closet, moving all my clothes into Mica’s closet. Same with my dressers. I worked to erase all traces of myself from the guest room. Mica cleaned the bathroom and changed the linens.

When the room looked picture-perfect, Mica checked his watch. “We have about five minutes.”

“I need to shower.” I raced into his bedroom. It felt strangely intimate to use Mica’s shower and see my toothbrush lined up next to his. While I got dressed, I could hear a female voice speaking in Russian.