There’s a video embedded in the article. I press play, and Kai’s face twitches into motion on my screen. My mouth fills with an acidic taste as he blinks tear-filled eyes.
“I couldn’t stay silent anymore. I need Beatrice to know she’s not alone,” he says, his voice breaking in the middle of my name. “I love you, Bea. I’m looking for you, and I won’t stop untilI know you’re safe. The truth deserves to come out. And you deserve to be free.”
Free?! Is he fucking kidding me?
God, the balls on this man, thismonster.
Heisa monster.
One who has decided he isn’t going to let me get away, I guess, not without tearing another pound of flesh from my bones first. He’s not stupid. He knows he doesn’t have to prove anything, not really. This public scene he’s making will be enough to damage me, my family, and my future in the industry.
I stare at the screen, rage filling me in a way it never has before. It burns in my belly, clutches at my throat, making my teeth itch to bite and tear.
I don’t know why he thinks he can get away with this, but I hate him for it.
I hate him, I suddenly realize.
I really do.
The tiny whisper of regret, the hint of nostalgia for who we once were together that still lingered in my heart, evaporates in the white-hot rage filling my chest.
My phone buzzes again.
Another notification. Another headline.
The story is spreading like a virus, infecting everything it touches, proving just how stupid I was to think I could walk away from a man like Kai without more scars than I have already.
He’s going to make me pay for leaving him.
Me, and all the innocent people who stepped up to help me…
Twenty-One
NIX
Sweat drips from the tip of my nose, splashing onto the rubber flooring of the visitors’ gym at Rogers Arena. My lungs burn. My quads tremble. My heart hammers against my ribs like a trapped bird.
And I feel fucking fantastic.
Better than fantastic. I feel invincible.
I rack the weights with a satisfying clang and grab a towel, wiping the salt from my eyes as I check my reflection in the mirror. The guy staring back at me looks different. Lighter. Less tormented by all the things he can’t change or that he’ll never understand.
Hockey was never the reason I struggled to control my temper. It was just…life. Feeling alone in it, and like I’d always be that way.
But now…
For the first time, the silence in my head isn’t the brooding kind. It’s peaceful. The world is still heavy, but I’m not. I’m not alone anymore. Beatrice is back in my life in a way she hasn’t been since we were kids. She’s the smart, savvy little sis I once knew, the one who took me as I am, loved me despite my flaws,and didn’t force me to pretend her shitty boyfriend was an acceptable partner. And now, I have Charlotte, too.
Charlotte…
Just thinking about her—and the sexy selfie she sent me last night to congratulate me on the win—makes me goofy smile.
I’m goofy now, but fuck it. My girl is hot, and yesterday’s game against the Canucks has me feeling ten feet tall and bulletproof.
Two goals. Two assists. Three blocked shots. And I didn’t take a single penalty. Not one. When their agitator—a douchebag known for his cheap shots and crass insults—tried to bait me in the second period, I didn’t bite.
I didn’t drop the gloves. I didn’t see red. I just laughed, skated around him, and set Jean-Louis up for the game-winning goal.
