Chapter 15
Oakley
The puck hit the back of the net with a sound that was sweeter than any symphony I had ever heard. Thwack.
"Nice shot, Cap," Kael called from the goal crease, straightening up and shaking his head. "You're shooting lasers today. Did you get a bionic shoulder transplant over the weekend?"
"Just rest and good living, Bear," I grinned, skating a lazy circle back toward the blue line.
"Good living," Jax snorted from the bench, squirting water into his mouth. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
I ignored him, but I couldn't stop the grin. It felt like it was stitched onto my face.
Wednesday was supposed to be stressful. It was the middle of the week, the grind was heavy, and the audit committee was prowling around the athletic department like sharks smelling blood. But I didn't care.
I felt invincible.
Earlier that morning, Jessica—the head cheerleader and bane of my existence—had walked in on Faye and me in the equipment room. For about ten minutes, I had panicked. I had seen the ruin of my life flashing before my eyes.
But then I had handled it.
I had tracked Jessica down in the cafeteria an hour later.
I didn't threaten her. I didn't beg. I simply offered her the one thing she wanted more than gossip: access.
I promised her exclusive interviews for the cheer squad's social media page and a recommendation for her marketing internship from my family's foundation.
She had taken the deal. She had smiled, deleted whatever mental notes she had taken, and walked away.
Crisis averted.
It was a sign. The universe wasn't trying to crush us; it was testing us. And we were passing. We were smarter than the system. We were faster than the consequences.
I looked up at the banners hanging from the rafters of the arena. National Champions 1998. 2005. 2012.
There was a blank space next to 2012. A space waiting for 2024.
I was going to put that banner there. And I was going to do it with Faye sitting in the front row, wearing my jersey.
"Thorne!" Coach Varon blew his whistle. "Stop daydreaming and lead the drill. Five-on-five. Let's go!"
I tapped my stick on the ice. "Let's work, boys!"
I skated into position, the cold air filling my lungs. I felt light. The weight of my father's expectations, the legacy, the fear of the "Thorne Madness"—it all felt distant today.
Faye had held me while I told her the darkest secret of my life, and she hadn't run. She had looked the monster in the eye and chosen him.
If I could survive that, I could survive anything.
After practice, the locker room was buzzing. The team was high on the momentum of a good week.
I sat in my stall, unlacing my skates. My phone was in my hand, hidden under a towel.
Me (4:15 PM): Practice killed. Shoulder is 100%. I feel like I could fight a bear. Or cuddle a mouse. Your choice.
I waited for the three dots. They appeared instantly.
Faye (4:16 PM): Please do not fight a bear. We are low on medical supplies. Cuddling is approved.
Me (4:17 PM): 8:00 PM. I’m bringing dinner. And I have a surprise.
Faye (4:18 PM): A surprise? Is it food?
Me (4:19 PM): Better.
I pocketed the phone, feeling a warmth spread through my chest that had nothing to do with the post-workout endorphins.
"You're doing it again," Jax said, sitting down next to me and stripping off his elbow pads.
"Doing what?"
"Smiling at your crotch. It's disturbing." Jax leaned back, groaning as his spine popped. "So, you handled the Jessica situation?"
" handled," I confirmed quietly. "She's quiet. We're safe."
"You really think you can keep this up?" Jax asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Until the end of the season? That's six weeks, Oak."
"I can do six weeks," I said. "We're getting good at it. We have a system."
"And after six weeks?" Jax pressed. "What happens when you get drafted? You go to Detroit or Chicago or New York. She stays here to finish her degree. Long distance is a bitch, especially for..." He trailed off, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "Especially for a mated pair."
"We aren't mated," I corrected automatically, though the denial felt weaker every time I said it.
"Biologically, maybe not. But emotionally? You're gone, man. You're cooked."
I looked at my best friend. I thought about lying. I thought about playing it cool.
But I was tired of lying.
"Yeah," I admitted, looking down at my hands. "I'm cooked."
Jax went still. "You love her."
"I do."
Saying it out loud was terrifying. It was like pulling the pin on a grenade and holding it in my hand. But it was also liberating.
"Does she know?" Jax asked softly.
"Not yet," I said. "I'm going to tell her tonight. That's the surprise."
Jax let out a long, low whistle. "Wow. Okay. The Ice King melts."
"Shut up."
"I'm happy for you, Oak. Seriously," Jax said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "She's good for you. You're... calmer. Less likely to murder a referee. It's a good look."
"She anchors me," I said, the truth of it hitting me hard. "When I'm with her, the noise stops. My dad, the pressure, the Wolf... it all just goes quiet."
"Then hold onto her," Jax advised. "Because people like us? We don't get that kind of peace often."
"I plan to," I said. "I'm thinking... after the draft... I'll get an apartment. Wherever I land. A nice one. Two bedrooms so she has a study. She can fly out on weekends. And when she graduates, she moves in. She wants to work for a pro team anyway. I can open doors for her."
"You've thought about this," Jax grinned.
"I've thought about everything," I said. "The apartment. The city. The dog."
"Dog?"
"Golden Retriever. She wants one."
Jax laughed, shaking his head. "Domestic bliss. Who would have thought?"
I finished dressing, pulling on a clean hoodie. I felt a sense of purpose I hadn't felt in years. I wasn't just playing for a trophy anymore. I was playing for a future. A life where I wasn't just a weapon, but a man.
"I'm gonna head out," I said, grabbing my bag. "Gotta pick up the food."
"Go get her, Tiger," Jax called.
"Wolf!" I corrected over my shoulder.
I walked out of the arena into the crisp evening air. The sun was setting, painting the snow in shades of pink and violet. It was beautiful.
I walked to my truck, whistling.
I was going to tell her I loved her. Tonight.
I had it planned out. We’d drive up to the ridge again—our spot. I’d bring the Italian food she liked from that place in town. We’d eat under the stars. And then I would tell her.
I would tell her that she wasn't just a distraction. She was the point. She was the reason I got up in the morning.
I climbed into the truck and started the engine. The heater blasted to life.
My phone buzzed on the passenger seat.
I glanced at it, expecting a text from Faye.
It was a notification. From The Claw.
I frowned. I usually had that garbage muted. Why was it pushing a notification?
I unlocked the phone.
The headline filled the screen.
CAPTAIN’S SECRET PLAY: IS THORNE SCORING OFF THE ICE?
My blood froze.
It wasn't a metaphor. The sensation was immediate and physical. My heart stopped beating. The warmth drained from my body, leaving me cold and hollow.
I stared at the photo.
Me. Faye. The truck. The kiss.
It was grainy, but it was us. There was no denying it. No spinning it. No bribing Jessica to make it go away. This was public. This was viral.
"No," I whispered. "No, no, no."
The timestamp said posted 10 minutes ago.
Already, the comments were rolling in. Hundreds of them.
I knew it!
She's the trainer, right? Isn't that illegal?
There goes the season.
Thorne is a player, what did she expect?
Panic, sharp and blinding, spiked in my chest.
Faye.
She would see this. The Dean would see this.
I scrambled to text her.
Me: I saw it. Don't panic. I'm coming to get you.
Me: Do not talk to anyone. I'm on my way.
I threw the truck into gear, my tires spinning on the ice as I peeled out of the parking lot. I needed to get to her. I needed to get her out of the dorm before the wolves descended.
I was halfway down the access road when my phone rang.
It wasn't Faye.
The caller ID read: ELIAS THORNE.
I stared at the name. The dread that washed over me was heavier than the weights I lifted this morning.
I answered.
"You did this," I snarled, not waiting for him to speak. "You leaked it."
"Oakley," my father’s voice was calm. terrifyingly calm. "Pull over."
"I'm not pulling over. I'm going to get her."
"You are not going to get her," Elias said. "You are going to turn that truck around and come to the Administrative Building. Mr. Vance is waiting for you. And so is the Dean."
"I don't care about the Dean!" I shouted, hitting the steering wheel. "You exposed her! You ruined her scholarship!"
"I removed an obstacle," Elias said coldl y. "I gave you a choice, Oakley. I told you to transfer quietly. You refused. You chose to be stubborn. Now, you deal with the fallout."
"I'm going to kill you," I whispered. "I swear to God, I will tear everything you built to the ground."
"Emotional," Elias noted with disdain. "Just like your mother. Listen to me very carefully, son. If you go to that girl's dorm, you confirm everything. You make it a scandal. You make her a pariah."
I hesitated. My foot hovered over the gas pedal.
"If you come to the office," Elias continued, "Mr. Vance has a statement prepared. We deny the relationship. We say the photo is misleading—a moment of comfort after a difficult conversation. We say you were breaking it off."
"I'm not breaking it off!"
"You are if you want to save her," Elias said. The trap snapped shut. "Think, Oakley. If you admit to a sexual relationship, she loses her rotation. She gets expelled for ethical violations. Her career is over before it starts. Is that what you want? Is that how you love her?"
I couldn't breathe. The air in the cab felt thin, insufficient.
He had me. He had checkmated me.
If I claimed her, I destroyed her.
If I denied her, I saved her career... but I lost her.
"You son of a bitch," I choked out, tears stinging my eyes.
"The Administrative Building, Oakley," Elias said. "Ten minutes. Or I let the Dean expel her."
The line went dead.
I slammed on the brakes, the truck skidding to a halt on the side of the snowy road.
I stared at the dashboard. My phone buzzed again.
Faye: Don't come. Dean emailed me. If you're seen here, it confirms everything.
Faye: Stay away, Oakley. Please.
I screamed.
It was a raw, guttural sound of pure agony. I slammed my fists into the steering wheel over and over again until my knuckles split and blood smeared on the leather.
I had everything. Ten minutes ago, I had everything. I had the girl. I had the future. I had the dog.
Now, I had nothing.
I looked at the text one last time. Stay away.
She was trying to protect me. Even now.
I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my bloody hand. I stared into the rearview mirror. The gold in my eyes was dull, lifeless.
I put the truck in gear.
I didn't turn left toward the dorms.
I turned right. Toward the Administrative Building.
I was going to save her. I was going to save her scholarship, her reputation, and her future.
And to do it, I had to walk into that room and tell the world that she meant nothing to me.
I had to break her heart to save her life.
And as I drove through the darkening campus, I felt the last piece of my human soul wither and die. The monster had won.