Chapter Eleven: Anonymous threat

Anna's POV

I rush down the stairs and almost trip on the rug in the living room. "Ahhhh..." My hand reaches out for anything to steady my equilibrium and I only succeed in pulling over the coat rack that was braced against the nearby wall. As the rack and my butt hit the floor, my parents come rushing out the kitchen.

"Anna, really? Why are your rushing for the door like that?" my mother clucked as she shook her head, her face a mixture of concern and suppressed laughter as my dad whips out his cellphone to snap numerous pictures.

"Dad! Stop that!" I raise my hands to shield my face as peels of laughter escape them both.

My dad eventually reaches down to help me to my feet as my mom corrects the coat rack back against the wall. I spin around and retrieve my handle bag on the floor and collect my scattered art supplies that were scattered in all directions.

"Heading out for inspiration?" my mom asks as she nodded to my bag.

"Yup. I need to finish a piece for submission before finals next month. I was thinking of heading over to Lake Fenway," I watched as my parent's expressions clouded over ever so briefly before they plastered smiles on their faces.

My dad shuffled beside my mom, who automatically reached a hand to hold his. "Honey, we know you're more than capable of being out on your own, but we would prefer if you went out with company. It's almost time for the sun to set and that trail could be dangerous in the dark." My mother's bottom lip trembled a bit as my dad rubbed her back in gentle circles.

"I know that spot reminds you of what happened when I was younger mom. But Courtney and I went to a bonfire party there recently and it brought back so many memories of how amazing that backdrop is. It would be perfect for my project. Please, can I go?"

I watched my parents battle their internal emotions together before they both nodded silently. I smiled and rushed over to embrace them both in a bear hug before checking my watch.

"I better get going before I lose the lighting. I'll be back soon, I promise." I wave at them quickly and rush out the door.

Within half hour I'm almost at the end of the trail and the cool evening breeze fills my lungs with fresh air. I walk over to the open spot near the edge of the lake and settle myself down to get started on my sketch. I pull out my charcoal sticks and begin my outline, focusing on the way the mountain ridge settles into a remarkable backdrop of dark greens and brown as the sun began its slow decent behind them.

As my hand continues to sketch, I feel a slight tingling at the base of my neck, like someone was watching me. I stop sketching and whip my head around to search my surroundings. When I see nothing, I turn back around to continue what I was doing.

"You're the last person I'd expect to find here alone," a low baritone voice says behind me, causing me to yelp out loud while sending my sketchbook and charcoal stick flying off my lap.

My hand goes to my chest as my thumping heart hammers within it. My eyes catch sight of a hand reaching for my dispersed sketchbook and charcoal as a hooded figure stooped with its back to me.

"Who..." my voice trails off when the figure turns around, my sketchbook offered to me.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Damian McKay's steely gaze bore down at me as I reach for my sketchbook.

"Umm, it's okay. I thought I heard someone behind me before. I guess you just caught me off-guard," I gaze down at the now-muddied page I was working on and sighed thoughtfully.

Damian suddenly dropped himself on the ground beside me as he looked over at my sketch. "If you ask me, I think it adds a little context to it," he said before turning his gaze towards the lake.

Was that a joke? I couldn't tell because his expression remained the same. Stoic and unreadable.

"Umm, yeah, sure. I'll still have to do it over though." I brushed off the sheet and then closed the sketchbook before reaching over to replace them into my bag. "I should go. It's getting dark." I push to my feet and dust off my jeans, my gaze falling on Damian who remained seated on the earthen floor.

I look around to make sure I'm not leaving anything behind and then open my mouth to say goodbye when Damian's head suddenly tilts in my direction.

"You affect him, you know," his eyes bore into mine like if he was looking into my soul and I feel the pulse ticking at the base of my throat.

"I'm sorry? I affect who?" I ask as I feel my cellphone buzzing in my jeans pocket. I reach for it and read the message from my mom reminding me that it was time to head back.

Damian pushed to his feet, pulling back the hood from his sweater, tucking his hands into the pockets. "Marcus. You two have been spending time together. He may not want to admit it, but you've got his head in a bunch. And that doesn't work for us McKays. We have a game coming up and he needs to focus."

"I don't understand where this is all coming from. I met your brother two or three times. None of that was planned. We just happened to run into each other. And the last thing I would do would be to keep him off his game. I know how important the regional match is next month," I watched as a frown pulled across Damian's face.

"I don't care if they were planned or not. My brothers and I are being scouted by some very important hockey teams for after college. We put in a lot of work and training. I won't let some girl he's crushing on break his focus on the endgame. Got it?"

An undignified guffaw escaped my lips, as I shook my head. "Me? That's funny. There is no way in hell Marcus McKay is interested in little old me. Look Damian, as flattering as all of this is, I can assure you that I am in no way on your brother's mind that way. Maybe the next time you and your brother talk, ask him what he really wants to do after college. Hockey may be a family business, but sometimes people want something different."

I shrug my back onto my shoulder and turn on my heel, heading straight for the trail to head back home.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Don't pretend like you know anything about my brother or my family, Donovan! Not after what you did!" Damian shouted behind me and I stopped in my tracks.

Turning around, I marched up to him and jabbed my index finger into his chest. "I have no idea who you think you are, but you do not get to talk to me like I'm some sort of pushover. I know our fathers were college rivals, and maybe there's still some beef there, but that gives you no right to assume that rivalries need to be passed down the generations!"

I watched as Damian's expression softened ever so slightly before his steely conviction returned just as quickly.

Not giving him the chance to respond, I widened my stride and walked through the trail, reaching home in minutes. I walked through the front door, just as my parents were settling into the living room to watch the news. My mom pointed at the small vanity beside the couch as my dad took a sip of his beer.

"That came for you in the mail, hun," she told me as I took up the envelope and went straight up to my room.

I placed my bag at the foot of the bed as I turned over the white envelope in my hand. My name was written in black letters at the front, but there was no return address or stamp. I opened the envelope and something fluttered to the ground at my feet. I reached down and gasped when my eyes fell upon a picture from the bonfire party by the lake. Marcus and I are standing close to each other, smiling. I turn over the picture and my heart stops as my eyes scan the words written behind the picture.

"Stay away from Marcus McKay, or you'll regret it!"