I closed the door behind me and moved toward the sleek coffee table holding onto the box, almost glowing under the low light. My heart raced as I knelt beside it, fingers trembling as I flipped open the lid.
Inside lay a ring—a real one. A stunning band glinted back at me, perfectly tailored to my size as if it had been crafted specifically for me alone. It seemed to shimmer with promise, yet it also radiated something darker—a weighty sense of possession that made my stomach twist.
Beside the ring was a note, its edges crisp and sharp. I unfolded it slowly:
Try taking this off, and I’ll assume you’ve made your decision. –N
The words hung in the air between us, echoing in my mind like a chilling warning. A part of me wanted to scream or cry out in defiance against this claim he had on me—against everything he represented—but I couldn’t find the energy.
Instead, I stared at the ring in silence, feeling a strange calm settle over me as if clarity washed over the storm within. This wasn’t just a piece of jewelry; it was a statement of ownership, binding and irrevocable.
But so was Gary's.
Taking a deep breath, I slid it onto my finger. It fit perfectly—too perfectly—and for a moment, everything else faded away.
I didn’t think about how much I didn’t want to belong to him or how Gary was right about Nick using me. No part of that mattered now; all that mattered was this ring snug on my finger—a reminder that choices had already been made without my consent.
And yet here I was—wearing it willingly.
Chapter 6
Nick
The rink was dark—just the center lights buzzing overhead, casting that harsh white glow that made everything feel colder. Emptier. Like a fucking interrogation room.
Perfect.
I drove my blades into the ice again, pushing hard—sprinting blue line to blue line like if I moved fast enough, I could outrun the thoughts clawing at the back of my skull.
Kennedy.
Her voice.
Her lips.
The way her eyes shook when I told her she was mine.
The way she left anyway.
I grit my teeth, bent low, arms pumping. My lungs burned. My thighs screamed. Good. Let it hurt. Let it fucking bleed.
Because if I didn’t pour it out here, I’d lose it.
I didn’t beg her to stay. I gave her a choice.
And now? Now she was out there, probably in his house, wearing his ring—after she let me taste her like she was already mine.
Fuck that.
I hit the brakes hard, skates screeching, sending ice shavings flying across the boards. My chest heaved. The cold air sliced into my lungs like glass.
Still not enough.
So I dropped into another sprint.
Again. Again.
If I keep moving, I wouldn’t break something.
