Page 52 of Breakaway

“Me?” I shook my head. I didn’t know how I could be anything like the red lipstick-wearing woman. She’d been very put together—classy. “What do you mean to get where she is?” I asked, focusing back on the thing that mattered and not whether I could pull off that shade of lipstick.

“She’s worked her way up the ranks after retiring from the ice. At thirty-eight, she’s made it onto the executive team for the Ice Foxes and is in line to take over as general manager in a few years. She oversees scouting and recruitment and has ties to Royal Hill.”

“I guess that explains why she was there.” The pizza was delivered, and I mulled over the information as I ate robotically. “What aren’t you telling me?” I asked, realizing Macy hadn’t looked at me while she spoke. She either had something up her sleeve or didn’t want to share something.

She sighed, placing her pizza down, and wiped her hands on a napkin before she turned toward me. “I couldn’t find anything solid because the Society is very good at hiding information, but I think she’s pretty high up in their leadership, too.”

“That’s still not what you’re hiding,” I said, something niggling in the back of my mind.

“I hoped you’d get there before I had to be the one to tell you,” she admitted, grimacing.

“Spit it out, Macy,” Fletcher commanded.

“The name Rivers didn’t ring any bells?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Not really. I remember her playing, but we didn’t play at the same time, so I never faced her on the ice. I just remember hearing her stats on occasion.”

“Think deeper,” Macy whispered, her eyes laser focused on me.

“Shit,” Reed said, drawing my attention.

“What?” I asked, my heart racing now that I didn’t know. Why wouldn’t either of them tell me? At least Fletcher seemed as out of the loop as me as he peered back and forth, frowning. Reed turned from me to Macy.

“They’re related?” he asked, and Macy nodded, her body deflating.

“Yes. Younger sister.”

“Who?” I asked, tired of the subterfuge.

“Hen,” Reed said, drawing my attention back. “Reese’s biological mother…”

“Matilda Rivers,” I whispered, everything clicking into place. “She’s Reese’s aunt?” I asked, praying I’d drawn the wrong conclusion.

“Appears so. I don’t think she knows, though. Matilda wasn’t close to her family before she died. They might not know she was pregnant or that the baby survived.” Macy shrugged then resumed eating her pizza, as I let that knowledge settle into my body.

“I got your background checks, too, Papa Bear. I’ll email them over. There are a few shady characters, but most are loyal. Thanks for lunch. I’ll leave you guys to it.”

Macy wrapped an arm around my shoulders in a one-armed hug before grabbing a slice to go as she headed out the door. I stared at the guys, their faces as blank as my own.

Pippa was Reese’s aunt and actively working against us. Fun times.

Why wasn’t anything simple in my life?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Reed

Henley had fallen into her deep thought mode on the way home, her eyes far off as she contemplated the information we’d learned at lunch. Even when we got back to the house, she sat at the table, staring blankly at her computer screen. Over the past few months, I’d been cataloging and storing away her different modes like the greedy Henley obsessive I was.

Big sister-Henley mode ranged from pride, happiness, and fierce protector, depending on the circumstances.

Not to be outmatched by hockey-Henley mode—passionate and fervent in her skills and which now included coaching duties.

Then, of course, there was carefree-Henley, mischievous-Henley, and my personal favorite, enraptured-Henley mode.

The way she completely gave herself during anything sexual was beautiful. I loved watching her come undone, letting go of all the stress and accepting the desire and pleasure she felt. She was incredibly sexy during these moments of bliss. It was probably why we could all share her and not feel jealous. Watching her pleasure was a prize in itself.

That didn’t mean there weren’t moments of envy when you weren’t the one with her, but they were fleeting. Henley had become good at recognizing when one of us needed her and making everyone feel included when we were a group. It was such a unique experience that I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t living it.