Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Rebel Arena, Freedom
S hay
Exhilaration rushes through me. The energy in Rebel Arena is electric. The passionate home crowd are chanting and cheering.
Our fans are brilliant. Their enthusiasm makes me feel like I’m not the shortest man on the rink but the tallest.
The thrilling atmosphere helps me to battle through the pain and exhaustion.
I’m on my skates. This is where I come alive.
I’m alive. We all are.
We’re safe.
And tonight, we won’t be the losers.
We’re bloody winning this game.
It’s Saturday evening and our final game against the tough team, the Chicago Blackhawks.
The Blackhawks are keeping up the pressure on us. They’re relentless.
Yet my team are playing with a dogged resilience that makes me glow with pride.
D’Angelo is leading us with a grim determination. It reminds me of Eden’s typical way of dealing with pain.
The two men are more similar than I realized.
I glance at my brother and Robyn who are standing on the other side of the glass.
Eden is dressed in a smart suit. He looks incredible in suits in a way that I never could. Also, comfortable like he’s finally found his real skin.
Perhaps, D’Angelo should set up a formal dom training course for Eden because looking like this, it’s more obvious than normal that he’s a natural dominant.
D'Angelo’s smart that he knew suits would help Eden drill down to that side of himself in public and help him to cope with the noise, crowds, and anxiety.
Robyn is wrapped up warmly in a honeydew wool dress and a hat and scarf. They’re standing as close as it’s possible to without having their arms around each other.
Eden hasn’t left her side since last night. He hasn’t left any of our sides.
I can’t help losing focus and sneaking glances at them throughout the game. Eden narrows his eyes at me and mouths concentrate every time that I do.
Yet I need to check that they’re still there.
Alive.
It was terrifying allowing Eden to enter Freedom Mansion without me last night. To sit in the car outside, not knowing what was going on inside to Eden or D’Angelo was worse than any torture that I could have endured.
The score is 1-1 .
It’s close, and there are only seven minutes left of the game.
Yet a draw isn’t good enough to win over the board, who are crowded around coach like vultures.
Coach’s arms are crossed. He’s glowering at the rink, rather than gesturing animatedly like he normally does.
He knows the stakes. I guess that’s why he’s so quiet.
It makes me nervous. I’d rather he was screaming at us.
Heine isn’t standing with coach. Instead, he’s flying to Germany, which makes me bloody happy.
I wish, however, that I could kick his arse personally.
On the other hand, I accept D’Angelo’s decision. It’s smart. Heine has incredible power and influence.
Who am Eden and I next to a billionaire like him?
I’ve known the reality of how this world works since I was a tiny kid.
Trash like me always ends up fucked over, not the other way around.
D’Angelo has serious balls for taking on a man like Heine and winning.
Also, I can’t admit this, even within the honesty of the Circle of Twins, but I understand Heine’s obsession, despite hating him.
After all, I’m bloody obsessed with both Robyn and D’Angelo.
I understand Heine more than my brother does. Possibly more than any of the others do.
The strength of own love frightens me sometimes.
I try to find space, as D’Angelo chases the puck.
We arrived early at the rink, so that D’Angelo could change into his uniform without the rest of the team seeing the welts on his back. Yet the other players still picked up on the fact that he was injured.
It filled me with warmth that each team member, even pranksters like Lucas, took the time to check in with him and made sure that he was okay.
D’Angelo looked taken aback and pretended to be grumpy, but I could tell how pleased he was.
“See, they all see you as their brother too.” I nudged D’Angelo’s shoulder, forgetting about his injuries. He winced. “Sorry.”
D’Angelo’s smile was unusually soft. “Huh, they do.”
I hope that D’Angelo understands I’m not the only one who bloody worships him.
He’s the best captain. We’re lucky to have him.
D’Angelo shouldn’t believe a poisoned word that Colton says.
Actions and not words mean everything.
During the game, the team has pulled together to support D’Angelo.
Plus, when I’ve wobbled, as my ankle has risked giving way, Grayson has skated closer to me, covering my weakness from the rival players.
Despite the agony in my ankle, the exhaustion, and the pressure, there’s still nowhere that I’d rather be than on the ice.
I feel freest here.
After the terror of last night, I need to feel like I’m in control again. And I’m in control here on the rink because I’m flying above the world.
I’m skating so fast that I can never be caught by the monsters of my past…or the ones of last night, when they clawed into my present.
When Eden staggered through the gates of the mansion out to the car, supporting D’Angelo, his arm was soaked in blood.
My stomach swooped. My chest was tight. Bile rose up my throat.
Eden carried into the Room, bruised and bloodied and not moving… Sitting with him for hours afterwards, holding him in my arms… Having no idea whether my brother was dead or alive…
Stuck in the flashback to my childhood at the sight of the blood on my brother, I shook.
I don’t remember the journey home.
The next thing I do remember, was being warm in bed with Robyn spooning me. She was stroking my arms like she needed the touch as much as I did.
I watched Eden helping D’Angelo to remove his shirt. D’Angelo’s face was shuttered, and he was biting his lip to try and not make a sound.
He was ashen.
But I knew what someone looked like who’d taken a beating.
D’Angelo flinched, no matter how gently Eden removed his shirt. His shoulders were still like he was afraid to move them.
D’Angelo scanned the bed, as if to check that I was asleep. I hurriedly closed my eyes and slowed my breathing. I waited a minute, before opening my eyes again.
Then I bit my lip to hold back the gasp.
D’Angelo’s back was turned to me, as he started to follow Eden out into the corridor.
His back was a nightmare of bruises, abrasions, and cuts.
Had Heine never used a whip before? How dare he hit my Sir?
The whip had been wielded inexpertly with lashes crossing, which had broken skin. It had also struck dangerously close to D’Angelo’s kidneys, which could have caused long-term damage.
The bloody bastard hadn’t known how to do it without causing serious damage.
Even Blythe, who’d often left me black and blue, had known what parts of my back were safe to strike or not.
My eyes smarted with tears.
Horrified, I struggled up onto my elbows.
“Clean and disinfect his back, Dee.” I was desperate to do it myself. Fuck Heine for drugging me so that I couldn’t care for my boyfriend. Finally, I understood D’Angelo’s need to give me aftercare. I longed to be the one to soothe him now. It hurt to watch Eden lead him away to the bathroom instead. At least I’d been whipped enough to know what helped. I didn’t care that D’Angelo probably knew it already from the dom’s point of view. I needed to feel like I was helping. “Apply an ice pack. Then use aloe vera and arnica.”
Eden glanced over his shoulder and nodded.
“And make sure that you disinfect and bandage the scratches on your wrist as well, bro.”
D’Angelo carefully turned back to me with a grimace. “Pretending to sleep, huh? Feeling well enough to be a bad boy, cucciolo?”
Bad boy?
The tears slipped down my cheeks.
It was too much.
I didn’t want to be his bad boy .
I could have lost D’Angelo tonight to Heine in so many ways. I’d felt bad for most of my life.
Was it too much to hope to be Robyn and D’Angelo’s good boy ?
D’Angelo’s expression immediately gentled. “It’s been a rough night. I’m being an asshole. I simply didn’t want to worry you.”
“Isn’t worrying my job as your boyfriend?” My eyes lit with hope.
Say yes.
“As my partner , it certainly should be. You have an important game tomorrow, however, and you’re the season’s top scorer. You should be sleeping. Let your brother look after me tonight. In fact, he’s going to stay awake and watch over all of us at Mike’s orders.”
“I’ve got this,” Eden said with a sense of finality.
I collapsed back onto the bed, dragging Robyn’s arm around my middle and loving the feel of her curves.
I knew that I wouldn’t sleep.
Insomnia was a bitch. My thoughts were too loud in my head.
Sleeping together, however, and being able to press my hands alternately to their chests to feel that their hearts were still beating and hear their breathing in the silence, was my heaven.
Because it meant that we’d survived.
My lovers were alive, with me, and I hadn’t been abandoned.
Now, I skate faster, glancing toward Grayson, who has just scooped up a pass from Atlas.
“Skate,” I yell at him.
Three minutes to go.
So close.
We can do this.
One more goal…
Grayson is looking around. He notices that D’Angelo has worked his way into a prime goal scoring position at the crease.
Excitement rushes through me.
The crowd roars.
I weave around the rival team’s left defenseman, closer to D’Angelo in support.
I am hyperfocused on him.
I want this for him.
I scored the first goal.
D’Angelo deserves to score — it will be a huge fuck you to Bronwyn, Kates, Lee, and Stansfield.
To Colton.
Heine.
Plus, every hater who thought that they could put our captain and his team on trial.
All of a sudden, I glimpse movement out of the corner of my eye. Something has been thrown from the stands onto the rink in front of D’Angelo.
My eyes widen.
It’s a giant, spiral unicorn dildo.
The crowd cheers.
I’ve heard of octopuses being thrown onto rinks, hamburgers, and the minor leagues Christmas tradition of fans throwing teddy bears for children’s charities.
But sex toys…? Fucking unicorn sex toys?
What’s going to rain down next? A dragon egg butt plug?
I stare up at the area of the stands, where there’s a sudden flurry of movement. The big screens focus in on the area as well: an entire line of women wearing wedding dresses.
In the middle is a woman in her forties with greasy, gray streaked hair and a too wide smile.
It’s RebelLover22.
Tanya Vega.
D’Angelo swerves, narrowly missing skating into the dildo and crashing. He knocks my shoulder, and my ankle twinges, as I struggle to stay upright.
I grit my teeth, glaring at the woman on the big screen.
I’m going to make sure that Vega’s season ticket is taken away and she’s banned for this bloody stunt. D’Angelo could have caught his skate and broken his leg, hip, or fucking neck.
I’m breathing hard. Protective rage is rushing through me.
Who does this woman think she is — who do all these women think they are, turning up in their wedding dresses — that they can publicly claim my man, while I have to hide my relationship?
How dare they treat my captain like he’s an object to wank over, rather than a talented sportsman?
If they can’t respect him and turn up to watch him for his talent as a hockey player, then they can fuck off.
D’Angelo raises his stick and casually hits the dildo like it’s a puck. The crowd goes wild, as the dildo slams against the boards.
D’Angelo casts me a sideways look. “Okay, cucciolo? Ready to win this?”
The rage in me instantly cools.
D’Angelo is fine. He’s strong. He’s here with me because he’s choosing to be.
We’re going to win this together.
Exhilaration thrums through me. “One minute to go.”
“It’s all we need.” D’Angelo shoots me a cocky grin.
I spin, skating unexpectedly to the left and cutting off the Chicago Blackhawk’s center. D’Angelo takes advantage of my move to wheel around and find space close to the goal.
Grayson is still trying to get free with the puck.
Thirty seconds…
“Pass,” I mutter. “Just…”
Twenty…
I skate closer, wheeling around the left defenseman now. D’Angelo still has space.
Ten…
Grayson lifts his stick and hits the puck.
I hold my breath.
I want this so much that my chest hurts.
D’Angelo shoots immediately after he gets the pass. It’s brilliant, and the goalie barely sees it because it’s so fast.
It hits the back of the net a second before the buzzer.
I barely hear the explosion of joy from the crowd.
All my focus is on D’Angelo, as the players raise their sticks in triumph.
He’s standing on the ice, looking overwhelmed.
He’s done it.
He’s saved the Bay Rebels, and this town that relies on it. The fans don’t realize it but they’re chanting his name anyway.
I skate toward D’Angelo because I can see how hard he’s trying not to flinch, as the other players pat him on the back.
When our gazes meet, a smile slides onto my mouth. “You did it, Jude.”
“We did it.” D’Angelo smiles back, looking more settled.
“Even after Dildogate.”
When D’Angelo glances at Robyn, who is jumping up and down enthusiastically at the side of the rink, I know what he means without him needing to say a word.
Eden and him really are a lot alike.
Together, D’Angelo and I skate toward the boards.
Eden and Robyn notice and move to both rest their hands on the glass.
A deep contentment settles on my shoulders, which means more to me than the normal happiness of winning a game because I’m not used to it.
I’ve found my home and family.
They’re safe without me needing to be the center of attention or the star. I can support them. I can let down my own mask.
When D’Angelo raises his hand to the glass, he nods at Eden. He looks shocked. Then the tips of his ears redden.
I grin.
D’Angelo never forgets my brother.
At the same time, I lean my forehead against the glass, as Robyn does hers. Our breaths mist against it. I wish that I could feel it.
She presses her hand harder against the glass like she longs to touch my cheek.
To the outside world, we still look like a player and his PR, the coach’s daughter, celebrating after a match.
Yet we secretly know that we’re each other’s heart and soul.
The rink’s bright light catches the rings on her hand. She glances down, studying the star ring that I gave her.
It means I love you more than words ever could.
Who cares what the rest of the world thinks or knows?
Who cares what narrative they create? Lies or gossip they spread?
We know the truth.
It’s precious because only we hold it.
I’ve learned how easily our relationship could be poisoned, if it was leaked too early to a world that still wants to own us.
I only want to be owned by Robyn and D’Angelo.
They’ll possess me for the rest of my life.
Robyn looks up and meets my gaze.
Her eyes are warm and like being hugged, and loved, and finally finding home.
I love you , I say in my mind. I love you, I fucking love you.
I don’t know if it shows on my face, but Robyn’s expression softens.
Her cheeks flush a pretty pink.
I love you , I think even harder, pressing against the glass. I’ll bloody love you forever.