His grin widened, like he’d been waiting for my reaction. “Hey, I’m not involved in tearing my team apart. That’s you, King.” He tapped his temple in mock salute then pushed off the lockers and sauntered away with his shadows.
The muttering followed him, a reminder he wasn’t wrong. Every crack in the foundation had just been put on display.
Jax let out a long breath and turned toward our lockers. Theo fell in beside him, quiet as usual, but his shoulders squared, protective without saying a word. I followed, the weight of leadership pressing heavier with every step.
No one spoke as gear fell against benches and pads clattered to the floor. Jax pulled his jersey over his head, wincing when the fabric dragged across his ribs. Red was already blooming beneath the skin.
“You good?” I asked.
His mouth twisted into something that wasn’t a smile. “Been worse.”
Theo shot me a look as if he wanted to press it, but I shook my head. Not now. Not with the guys’ voices drifting in from the other side of the room—half-whispers about Avery, about Chase, about the disaster they’d just witnessed regarding the twins.
We changed in silence. My hands moved on autopilot—untape, unlace, peel sweat-soaked pads free—but my mind was already two steps ahead. Chase was off on his own, probably at home. Furious. We couldn’t bring him back tonight, not while his pride was still raw. But we couldn’t leave the rest of us hanging in this limbo either.
Finally, I dropped onto the bench, elbows braced on my knees. “Let’s go to my place.”
Theo nodded immediately. Jax lifted his head, blood cleaned but his jaw started to swell, and gave a single stiff nod.
It would be just the three of us. They knew as well as I did—Chase needed space. Time to burn off the fury before any of us could reach him.
The door creaked, and Logan’s laughter drifted faintly down the hall, a reminder we didn’t have the luxury of falling apart. Eyes were on us. Our rivals were circling. And if Dunn was making moves on the business, if word of tonight’s fight slipped beyond these walls, we’d be bleeding on more than just the ice.
Jax shoved his gear into his bag, his movements sharp, clipped. Theo’s shoulders were tense, but his voice was steady when he finally broke the silence. “We need to figure out how to deal with Chase tonight.”
“Yeah.” My chest tightened, but I forced the words out. “We do.”
We left the locker room as a unit, the three of us. Chase’s absence at our backs felt like a missing limb. The girls’ cars were already gone from the lot. Good. Avery needed distance from this wreckage.
The night air was cool in my lungs. None of us spoke; the silence carried as we crossed the lot. I hit the unlock on my SUV and tossed my bag in the back. Jax headed for his own car without a word, Theo for his. Engines whirled to life one after another, headlights cutting through the dark as sharply as blades.
I gripped the wheel tight, knuckles aching. Chase’s voice still rang in my skull—You knew.He wasn’t wrong. Maybe we should have told him. But how the hell do you warn about something that wasn’t your story to tell?
The road stretched out in front of us, empty and dark. Home waited at the end of it, but peace didn’t. Not tonight.
We would regroup at my place. We’d find the fracture lines and try to stitch them closed before the whole thing came apart. Tomorrow we would figure out how to bring Chase back.
Streetlights slid over the windshield in clean white bands then vanished into black as I headed home.
We pulled up the driveway. Inside, the lights were low, the hum of the fridge a constant. I tossed keys in the bowl by the door and jerked my chin toward the kitchen.
“Ice.” My voice came out rough.
Theo didn’t argue. He moved—cabinet, freezer, a dish towel dragged off the stove. He wrapped two ice packs then slid them across the island to Jax.
He didn’t reach for it right away. Instead, he drifted to the sink, gripping the edge as though it was the only solid thing in the room. Blood had dried rusty along his mouth from the cut that stopped bleeding before we’d left. A bruise was forming on his cheekbone. He stared at the drain for a beat, like answers lived there. Then he twisted the faucet, cupped water to his lips, and spat pink.
“You should sit,” Theo said.
Jax ignored him and took the ice pack, pressed it to his ribs. He didn’t flinch. Getting banged up on the ice was nothing new to us; getting a beat down by a friend was.
My phone buzzed. I glanced down.
Mila:We’re at my place. She’s doing okay. I’ll keep her here tonight.
Some tight coil in my chest loosened a notch. I typed back.
Me:Good. Lock the doors.
