Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Rebel Arena, Freedom
D’Angelo
I throttle my stick, imagining it’s that asshole Silas’ throat.
Atlas would call it stick abuse.
He cares for his equipment with the type of obsessive love that the rest of us reserve for our cocks.
I ignore Atlas’ pointed glare, which he is shooting me across the rink.
He looks more disappointed than angry.
Yet after the meeting I’ve just had, my stick abuse is justified.
Was Silas telling the truth about how serious the crisis is? Is the team truly close to collapsing?
Does the Bay Rebels entire survival rely on our winning this season?
Silas wants to pay for my silence on his fraudulent mishandling of the Bay Rebels’ finances with his silence on Noah’s identity.
With Noah’s life.
Because if he outs both Noah’s sexuality and dynamic, then Noah will be at risk like I was from the violence of his own family.
I shudder, remembering the smash of Bruno’s fist across my eye, cheek, and jaw. I’d dropped to the ground and curled into a ball, trying to protect my head, as the older brother who I had always trusted to protect me, instead kicked me, again and again and fucking again.
I shudder at the memory of gagging on the taste of blood that stained my teeth.
Spitting it out, and thinking, he has to stop now.
Mom and Dad will tell him to stop.
But they didn’t.
Bruno didn’t.
Thinking that he was going to kill me.
My own brother.
I can’t let that happen to Noah.
I must win the Conference Finals.
I let out a long, calming breath, forcing myself to loosen my grip on the stick to an approving glance and nod from Atlas.
I lean back against the boards.
The lights are bright in the freezing arena. I take a breath of the scent of rubber and sweat.
The rest of the team are skating laps in between drills. As usual, Shay is pushing himself harder than anyone.
He glanced up when I first skated onto the ice, asking me without saying a word whether I was okay.
I simply nodded. “Show me what you’ve got.”
Shay grinned, before dedicating himself to the remainder of practice. He has been skating faster and harder than the rest of the team.
Yet they are all putting in an impressive, focused effort.
I haven’t missed how well they are pulling together.
It is nearing the end of the session, however, as I missed most of practice because of my meeting with Silas.
I can never settle properly because I feel like the kid who stumbles into math class half-way through because he has been hauled into the principal’s office for a scolding.
Then the teacher immediately demands that he solve the problem that is written on the board, on the subject the kid has missed.
I bet Shay would still be able to solve it.
My smart boy.
I smile, watching Shay skate by me faster than any player in the NHL.
If I don’t fuck up this season, then he’s going to be a legend.
My smile widens.
I glance across the arena, catching Fleet’s eye.
Tyson Fleet, the Assistant Coach, is leaning on the boards on the opposite side of the rink, watching the players and shouting out advice.
Fleet is athletic and in his sixties.
A retired legendary player and coach, he has a dominant, military air. He is tall with broad shoulders and bulging muscles. His hair is neat and silver, contrasting to his cool brown skin and dark eyes.
As my closest friend, Fleet knows me well enough to understand that something is wrong but also, that I need some space.
He raises his brow at me, checking in.
“Later,” I mouth.
He simply nods.
We have one rule in The Kinks, our friendship group who run our VIP BDSM Club: Total honesty.
I value that more than anything.
You can’t be a true dom without honest, open communication and trust.
I am working on that with Shay and Robyn.
Suddenly, I catch sight of a shock of blond curls on the other side of the arena through the glass.
I straighten, studying Noah with concern, as the short but athletic nurse with tanned skin and rich, amber eyes ambles down the side of the rink. He is dressed in the medical staff uniform with the Bay Rebels logo.
He is only the same age as Shay.
My chest tightens.
I am protective of every sub (a lesson that Fleet taught me early on) but being young and new to this world like Shay is, only strengthens my resolve to help him.
I called Noah as soon as I got out of the meeting with Silas.
Honesty, the number one lesson.
It made my stomach churn, until I wanted to hurl, when I heard how hard Noah had been trying not to cry.
Silas is such a fucking piece of work.
I promised Noah that whether Silas unmasked him or not, then he could stay in one of the sub houses, which I run for 24/7 subs to make sure that they don’t remain in unsafe or abusive situations because they don’t have the money to move out.
I even offered that he could stay in the mansion with me if he wanted.
It’s not like I don’t have enough rooms. I haven’t counted them but I think there must be at least thirty bedrooms.
Robyn and Shay have valiantly christened each one of them with me.
I know that my lovers won’t mind if Noah moves in with us, if it protects our colleague who is also Cody’s friend.
Noah’s eyes are red-rimmed.
Shit, he has been crying.
“Fuck,” I mutter, studying Noah’s split lip and bruised jaw.
Who hit him? His asshole dad?
I tighten my hold on my stick, tapping my fingers on it in rhythms of three.
Then I notice the woman who is hurrying to catch up with Noah.
I stiffen.
I don’t recognize her. Should she be in the arena?
Why have security let her through? They were meant to have tightened up procedures.
Who is she?
She is walking like she belongs here. In fact, as if she is planning a takeover of the place.
I narrow my eyes, studying her more closely.
She does look professional, wearing a suit in the team colors. She appears to be my age or possibly, a couple of years older. Her blond hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and her thin lips are stained in a satin berry lipstick.
To my shock, she grabs Noah by the shoulder and spins him around.
He yelps.
Outraged, I start to skate toward them.
But then, I realize that they know each other.
She must be a new member of the staff. Is she the doctor?
Athletic, she is taller than Noah. She leans on the glass, caging Noah against it. She talks in a low voice.
Noah is stiff, uncomfortable.
I hesitate.
On the ice, I am the captain. I am in charge, able to stand up for every teammate, my brothers. Yet off the ice, I don’t have the say over how the staff are run. I don’t know the dynamics of their working relationships.
Is she bullying him?
Will it make things worse if I charge in when Noah isn’t my sub or boyfriend?
Frustrated, I hang back.
Shay breaks off from his drills to skate over to me, however, while he glances as well at Noah. “Who is that giving Noah a hard time?”
“I don’t know.”
Shay frowns. “Shall I dramatically crash into the boards and pretend that I need Noah’s help? It’s not like it wouldn’t be believable.”
“You recklessly hurting yourself wouldn’t surprise anyone, cucciolo. We’ll just watch them from a distance for the moment. She could be part of the bigger problem going on with the staff.”
“But the staff are brilliant. They’re our rock. What’s going on with them?”
I nod toward the far side of the arena, and Shay skates after me.
We both lean against the boards, trying to look like we’re talking about hockey strategy.
Fleet shakes his head, rolling his eyes.
At the same time, I notice how closely he is watching the exchange between Noah and the woman.
Fleet has always had a soft spot for Noah. If Noah ever wanted to be taken on as a non-romantic sub, then I know that Fleet would take him on to train him.
“Do you see the split lip?” Shay whispers.
“I wish that I couldn’t.” Hungrily, I scan Shay’s gorgeous pale skin — flawless. No bruises or blood. It settles something in me to know that he is okay. Unhurt. “I’m not meant to tell you what I discovered about the staff. I was warned not to tell anyone how Silas threatened me in the meeting.”
“Bastard,” Shay hisses. “I knew that I should have been there with you.”
I rest my hand on his arm to steady him. “You were where I ordered you to be like a good boy.” Shay’s cheeks flush gratifyingly. “But you hid what your abusive ex did to you because she commanded you to and—”
“I’m so fucking sorry,” Shay blurts.
His eyes are wide with regret and pain.
“I know you are.” I stroke his arm, reassuringly. “And we’ve dealt with that, haven’t we? You’re forgiven, cucciolo. But look what it led to…”
“Kidnap and arson.” Shay twists to stand in front of me, blocking our conversation from the view of the rest of the team.
“In an attempt to avoid a repeat, despite how much Eden appears to have grown in confidence since then…” I try hard not to examine just how much good it seems to have done to Eden’s self-confidence to burn down a house with Blythe in it.
Because I am certain that he is responsible for those crimes, despite Heine confessing to them.
Arson therapy — I should have known that was the method of therapy that would work.
“…we swore that we would trust each other with our hearts and secrets. We wouldn’t hide things. ”
“So, what did that bloody bastard want?”
“For us to win the Conference Finals.”
Shay blinks. “Don’t we all want that?”
“He wants it because he’s run the club into the ground, however, and we’ll be fucked if we don’t. Also, his extra motivation to me, if I don’t lead our team to victory, is to reveal Noah’s…activities…to his family.”
Shay gasps, glancing at Noah. Then his expression softens.
As a sub who has himself been hiding his identity from the press for months until recently, this must hit hard.
“We have to get him to safety,” Shay insists.