He glances at the door. “Just don’t tell them, okay?”

There’s a wild look in his eyes. What’s he going to do to me after he tells me? Will he dispatch me the same way he did her? Out there in the ice?

I shove him off me. Pain surges through my knee as I struggle out from under him and limp to the door, still topless.

Curtis comes up behind me, holding the door shut. “Milla.”

“Let me out.”

“Please.”

I catch the desperation in his voice. His sister had a way of finding our trigger points. She liked to push people to their limits, just for fun, to see what happened. After twenty years of it, it’s understandable that he might snap.

I turn to face him. “You don’t have to tell me.” My voice sounds shaky. If this comes out, he’ll be locked up for life. It’s better if I don’t know.

“I do. I should have told you earlier.” He swallows. “You’re going to hate me, but I hope there’s a chance you’ll understand. Okay . . .” He takes a deep breath.

I want to press my hand over his mouth. Once he tells me, I’ll have to report him.

Won’t I?

CHAPTER 46

TEN YEARS AGO

I watch Curtis push his way across Glow Bar to deal with Julien, feeling completely mixed up and no closer to knowing what I should do tomorrow.

Is Dale right? Can I trust anything Curtis has said, or has he been on his sister’s side all along?

Dale is still trying to get Heather’s attention. He doesn’t normally have to wait for his drinks in here but she seems to be ignoring him tonight. They must have had another fight. Hope she hasn’t found out I kissed him. That’s the last thing any of us needs.

I carry the Oranginas across the room to Brent, unsure if he’ll even accept a drink from me anymore. “I wanted to wish you good luck for tomorrow.”

Brent takes the bottle with a sad smile. “You too, Mills.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

“You know I never wanted to hold you back.”

“I know.” I sip my Orangina. It’s loaded with sugar and I should stick to water, but our little group has acquired a real addiction to the stuff this winter.

Curtis’s voice carries over the music. “She’s not interested, get it?” he tells Julien. He switches to French, presumably repeating the message to make sure he gets it across.

“So you’re up against Odette?” Brent says.

I groan. “Don’t remind me.”

“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t affect the British rankings.”

“It affects how it looks to all the spectators.” I change the subject. “You know when Curtis gives you snowboarding advice? Do you trust him?”

Brent’s answer is instant. “Yeah, why?”