Chapter 27
I wake up to the soft light peeking through the curtains. The clock by the bed reads 5 a.m., but I don’t need it to tell me that it’s still too early. My body’s sore— aching in places I didn’t know could ache— but I feel... oddly at peace. Remy’s next to me, tangled in the blankets, her soft breathing the only sound in the room. I don’t want to move. Don’t want to let go of this moment.
Her eyes flutter open when I shift, and she looks at me with that sleepy, soft expression.
“Hey,” she whispers, voice husky from sleep. She gives me a kiss on the cheek, and my heart fucking stutters.
“Hey,” I mutter back, rubbing my eyes, trying to shake off the fog.
She kisses my forehead next, soft lips against my skin, and I want to stay like this forever. Just the two of us.
“Zane?” she whispers.
“Yeah?” I murmur, still half asleep.
“I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I think... I think you’re going to make it big. You’re going to own the best damn auto shop in town.” She pulls away just enough to look up at me. There’s that fire in her eyes— the one that’s always been there. I can see how much she means it.
I chuckle softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You really think so?”
She nods, her eyes soft but determined. “I know so. You’ve got this. You just need to... keep going. And we’ll figure everything out. Together.” She places a gentle kiss on my forehead, then sighs, looking away.
“I need to rush home, but I’ll come back. We’ll figure it out, okay?” She’s already pushing the covers off and sitting up, her messy hair falling over her shoulders, looking too beautiful to be real.
I nod, even though I don’t want her to go. “Okay.”
But she’s already standing, pulling on her clothes from last night, quick but careful, like she doesn’t want to disturb the moment either. It hits me again, how much she means to me, how different everything is when she’s around.
“I’ll be back. I promise,” she says, giving me one last kiss, this time on the lips, quick but lingering enough to leave me breathless.
She leaves, and I’m alone.
I get up, the weight of yesterday’s hits still heavy in my muscles. I stretch and wince at the sharp pain in my ribs. Gotta keep it together. I’m not some fucking pussy.
I head for the bathroom, quick shower, let the hot water hit my skin. It stings, but it’s what I need. When I’m done, I throw on sweatpants and make my way downstairs. The house is quiet.
I set up the coffee machine, needing something to clear my head. The brewing coffee fills the silence, but the pain in my body is louder than any noise.
Then the door swings open.
I freeze.
“Zane.”
It’s my dad. The last person I want to see right now.
“Why the hell are you here?” I bite the words out, furious. I wasn’t expecting him, and I sure as hell wasn’t ready for the storm he’s about to bring.
He walks in like he owns the place, tall and imposing. “Got a call from your coach. You reported an injury. He thinks you’ll probably miss the final game.” He eyes me with a sharp glare. “What’s this bullshit?”
“I’m injured,” I snap. I don’t need to explain, but I do anyway. “Had to tell someone.”
“Bullshit,” he growls. “You’re not a girl. You don’t cry over a little tear. You play through it.”
I’m done with this. The cold, the demand, like I’m some asset. I turn on him, showing the bruises that cover my body— ribs a mess, adductor injury burning— but it’s the bruises that really tell the story.
“Does this look little to you?” My voice is low, furious. I’m done with his shit.
He glances at my skin, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes before it’s gone. “That’s nothing. You’ve had worse. Suck it up.”
“Yeah? You want to know what’s worse?” I’m breathing hard, angry. “The fact that you care more about winning than how I’m feeling.”
“Don’t talk back to me, Zane,” his voice drops to a dangerous growl. “You finish the season. No excuses. You want to make me look like an asshole? You want to ruin everything I’ve worked for?”
Blood rushes to my head. “You’re not the one getting hit out there. You don’t feel the bruises, the pain. So don’t tell me what it’s like.”
He steps closer, voice colder than ice. “I don’t give a shit. You’ll play through it. Got it?”
“No,” I snap. “I don’t got it. I’m done.”
“This is what we agreed on,” he hisses, voice icy. “You play. You finish the games.”
I shake my head, frustration clawing at my chest. “I didn’t agree to being treated like this. You think I like getting my ass kicked every damn game?”
His eyes darken. “You made a deal, Zane. I don’t care if you’re hurt.”
“No.” The word feels heavy, final. “I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not a fucking machine.”
“We had a deal,” he repeats, more insistently. “You stick to it.”
“Fuck the deal,” I spit, stepping into his space. “You want me to finish, fine. But not at the cost of my health. I’m not your puppet.”
His eyes flare with rage. “Don’t talk to me like that, boy. You’re nothing without this. Without hockey.”
I shove him, hard enough to make my point, but not enough to break anything. “Fuck you.”
And that’s when he swings.
His fist connects with my jaw, and the world tilts. Pain explodes across my face, and my teeth rattle in my skull.
“Zane!” A voice cuts through the chaos.
Remy’s standing in the doorway, phone in hand, eyes wide with shock. “What the hell is going on?”
My father turns on her, fury in his voice. “You! Get the hell out of here.”
Remy doesn’t flinch. She raises her phone. “I’m recording. You better stop right there.”
My father freezes, fists still clenched. He doesn’t move.
“Dad,” I manage, holding my face, the swelling starting to take over.
But he won’t back down. He never does. “Your mother should start looking for a new job. She’s about to be out of work. That’ll teach you to stay out of things that don’t concern you.”
Remy’s eyes widen. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I look at her, my stomach sinking. It’s time to tell her everything. “When you mentioned your mom struggling, I— I pulled some strings.” My voice cracks. “I made sure she got better pay, better hours.”
Her confusion is clear. “But why would he—?”
“He found out,” I whisper, barely able to hold it together. “And he’s blackmailing me. If I don’t end things with you, he’ll make sure your mom loses her job.”
Her face falls, anger mixing with disbelief. “He’s been using my mom as leverage?”
I nod, the weight of it sinking deep. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Remy. I had to keep her job safe.”
She stares at me, eyes wide. “You should’ve told me. We could’ve figured this out together.”
I take a step forward, but she shakes her head, her eyes hard. “No more secrets, Zane.”
“Shut up, stupid girl,” my father sneers at her.
“Be careful how you talk to me,” she warns, voice firm, “and don’t take another step. I’ll send this to everyone.”
My father’s face turns red, fury boiling. He moves toward her like he’s about to make a move, but I step in front of her, hand out.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I warn, my voice steady with rage.
He stops, fists clenched, eyes flickering with something— regret? But it vanishes as quickly as it came.
He sneers, turning to leave. “You think this will work?”
“Hell yeah, it will,” Remy says. Her voice doesn’t waver. “If you hurt him again, I’ll make sure everyone knows what kind of man you are.”
For a second, I think he’ll come at her, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns and storms out, slamming the door behind him.
The silence is suffocating. I stand there, body buzzing with anger and pain, not sure what the hell to feel.
“Zane?”
Remy’s voice is soft, hesitant. She steps toward me, her concern obvious. I can’t look at her. I’m falling apart.
She touches my arm, fingers grazing over the bruise. “Holy shit.”
“I’ll be fine.”
But I’m not. Not even close.
She studies me, like she’s looking for something I won’t say. I want to tell her everything. How fucked up all of this has been, how I’ve been hiding, how I’m losing myself in it all.
Instead, I let her pull me into her arms. I close my eyes, feeling the warmth of her, the softness I didn’t think I’d get from anyone.
“You saved me,” I groan.
“You’re free,” she whispers, as if trying to convince us both.
I pull back slightly, looking at her, my chest tight. “I don’t know if I am. But I’m done with his shit.”
She touches my cheek, her thumb brushing over the bruise. “You don’t deserve any of this, Zane. No one should have to live like that. Not physically. Not emotionally. I’m so sorry.”
Her words cut deep, like a knife in my chest. “Yeah,” I mutter, swallowing hard. “It’s been like this for a while. But I think... I think I’m done. Done with him. Done with hockey.”
Her eyes widen. “What? Done with hockey?”
“Yeah.” My voice cracks. “I’m done. I only did it for him. I know I’m fucking good at it, but it’s not worth it.”
She steps back, her hand on my chest like she’s grounding me. “So, what happens now?”
I think for a moment, then sigh. “Well, my dad paid for my school. That’s covered. And there’s a trust fund from my grandfather. Once I’m done, I’m going to open the garage I’ve always wanted.”
She smiles, soft and real. There’s hope in that smile, and maybe she’ll forgive me now that the cat’s out of the bag.
I pull her into a hug and kiss the top of her head.
When her arms wrap around me, I know I have everything I need to be a better man right here.