My throat goes dry, my eyes growing wet for the first time in five years. I clench my jaw because if the tears fall, I won’t know how to stop them, just like I didn’t the night Merci saw me.
It’s the only time I ever remember crying.
“Why isn’t any of this in your medical records? Your arm is but—”
My breaths become shallower, my fingers tightening around the ball in my hand. This is it. Coach can end my career by revealing the one secret my father fought to keep hidden. “My father paid to make sure it stayed hidden.”
Coach Harper growls. “What the fuck was he thinking? And this sport? Zach, do you understand the danger you put yourself in each time you get on the ice?”
I look up at him, brow quirked. “Just because part of my brain is fucked up doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”
Coach pinches the bridge of his nose while Viktor snickers. When Harper flops into his chair again, Viktor walks over and sits in his lap, wrapping his arms around our coach’s neck. “What happened between Zach and me was an accident. Please let it go.”
I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “The insular cortex damage prevents me from reading body language well.”
“And I was being my typical mouthy self, so Zach ended up gagging me.”
I shake my head. “Was the first and last time I’ve ever used a gag—”
Coach holds up a hand, cutting me off. “And from what I was told, neither of you set up a safe word.”
I shake my head. “Wasn’t thinking straight. I assumed . . . I assumed he’d stop me if it was too much. It wasn’t the first time we’d played or that he played like that.”
His glare sharpens as it lands back on Viktor. “You knew about his struggles. Why would you let him gag you?”
“Zach needed me. He was—”
I narrow my eyes at his words. “How exactly did you find me at the club that night anyway?”
Viktor’s lips twitch, and he shrugs.
Beckett groans, running a hand through his hair. "Do you enjoy stalking everyone, Chaos?"
"It wasn’t stalking. It was proactive caring," Viktor says innocently, though the glint in his eyes betrays him.
I throw the stress ball at him, hitting him square in the forehead. “Asshole, did you inject—”
Viktor grins, not even bothering to deny it. "I told you, you’re family. What do you think?"
Coach shakes his head. “Do I even want to know what you two are talking about?”
“Probably not.” My voice is back to its normal, flat tone. Viktor injected a tracker into Coach too, and they just stopped fighting, so I’m keeping that fact to myself.
I’m also not sure why there’s a little flutter in my chest or why my lip twitches at the corner, knowing my fucking friend has a tracker in me. That he’s used it to find me. And when the fuck did that even happen?
My father doesn’t show me half the concern Viktor does. It’s one of the reasons I’ve had such a hard time accepting he’s in love with Coach Harper. Not because I had any romantic interest in Viktor. But he’s the only person in my life who’s ever fully, deeply cared about me. Even if I’m difficult to deal with every fucking day.
“I was new to whipping. I never meant to scar him. He’s my best friend. And he never told me he didn’t like or want it.”
Coach sighs. “Yeah, kinda learned myself he does things he doesn’t like because he wants to be accepted.”
“Can you two assholes stop talking about me like I’m not sitting right here?” Viktor smiles wide, wiggling in Harper’s lap. “Unless you are talking about how sexy I am or what an amazing goalie I am. Or how neither of you can live without me.”
“What about the knife play?” Coach stares at me, unblinking.
My brows furrow. “I’ve never—”
Viktor’s gaze drops to the floor when we both look at him. “It wasn’t Zach.”
