Chapter Twenty-Four
Skye
“Their left wing’s cross-ice pass is predictable.” Paige draws invisible lines on the table with her finger. “She practically announces it with her shoulder drop. We can intercept.”
“We should just put glitter in their water bottles,” Rissa muses, staring into the distance as she twirls a fry.
I think we’re all burnt out here in Milan, and Rissa is starting to crash. Either that or her jokes are falling flat because of the awkward tension hanging around me.
Not good.
“Not enough to poison them,” Rissa continues, taking a slow bite of a fry. “Just enough to make them sparkle when they sweat. Psychological warfare.”
Riley nods slowly, her eyes closed as she toys with her fingers. “I’m getting a disruptive vibe. Also, their goalie is afraid of geese. That could be helpful.”
Normally, I’d steer this back to reality and be the anchor.
But since Alisha’s very public, very tearful accusation in the streets of Milan earlier today, I’ve been drifting in and out of my thoughts.
The looks from my team aren’t hostile; they are wary.
Like a wall of polite professionalism where easy camaraderie used to be.
They talk tactics around me, not with me.
I hate that I’m reliving this all over again. The team knew there was a court hearing that involved me a while back, but it was quickly dismissed, and no further questions were asked.
It feels like a nightmare that I can’t seem to escape.
Paige has lightened up on throwing her signature sarcasm my way. Rissa’s chaos has become muted in my presence. Even Riley’s predictions feel filtered. It’s like I’m wearing a sign that says “POTENTIAL PREDATOR. HANDLE WITH CAUTION.”
The weight of it, on top of my punishing silence with Violet, that will finally end in the morning because I can’t take it, is like a stone in my throat. I can’t lead my team out onto the ice for the biggest game of our lives with this between us.
Not anymore.
I set my water bottle down, a bit too loudly, and the three of them glance at me.
“Alisha,” I start, my voice coming out flat. My usual internal storm is quiet. “She said I abused her.” I speak low enough that I don’t draw attention from anyone but my own team. This cafeteria is crawling with people who would pounce at the opportunity to out me as an abuser or a sex freak.
Rissa stops twirling her fry, Riley’s fingers fall to her lap, and Paige leans back, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I didn’t,” I continue, holding Paige’s gaze because it’s the hardest one to get through.
She knows shit went down, but I think it hurt when I refused to elaborate.
She knows I don’t get close to people or confide in anyone, but I think she assumed I’d lean on someone.
And she was disappointed it wasn’t her. “What happened was… a scene, of sorts.”
“A scene?” Riley repeats, and Rissa nudges her in the arm to stop talking.
I swallow, trying to push down the fear of opening up to people. This is necessary. I can’t hurt my career by refusing to talk to those closest to me. And as hard as it is to admit, they are the only friends I have.
“A BDSM scene,” I clarify, not making eye contact with anyone as I admit it.
“One night, I confided in Alisha. I’d concocted a contract that outlined everything I was willing to do, in addition to my hard boundaries.
I asked her to do the same.” I clear my throat and take a sip of water.
“She showed up with the contract in hand, slammed it onto the table, and pounced on me. I asked if she’d signed it, and she said she did.
She said she’d read everything and was ready for whatever I wanted to do. ”
The temperature in this room feels like it increases by twenty degrees.
I adjust in my seat.
“We were deep into it. Dom and sub.” These words catch the attention of the rest of the team, and those who weren’t already listening are now turning their chairs toward our table.
Rissa’s eyebrows are climbing up the more I speak. Riley is nodding as if completely understanding. And Paige is just staring at me, waiting for the full story so she can figure out where to go from here.
“We played. It was mediocre at best. She was giggling and kept breaking headspace.”
Rissa holds up a hand, interrupting me.
“Give us full details, Skye.” Her tone is far from joking. “I don’t live this lifestyle, so I don’t understand what that means. I need to know why she said you hurt her.”
I exhale and take another sip of water, adjusting my chair again and wiping my palms on my jeans. I never get nervous, but I’m throwing myself into full exposure here, and everyone wants a piece of my past.
“I had her wear a specific outfit.”
Rissa tries to hide a smirk. She’s into this story now, and it makes me feel a little better that she’s not judging, but actually enjoying what I have to say.
“I had her on all fours, facing the headboard. I brought out the paddle, but I used my hand instead to get her used to the sensation.” I hold up my hands and add quickly, “I didn’t hit her hard. It was just a small spank to see how well she was going to do.”
Paige smirks, enjoying the fact that I’m actually antsy as I talk. I exhale again, feeling like my friends are slowly breaking out of the distant shell and transforming back into their usual selves.
“When she whimpered,” I continue, “I took that as a sign of arousal. I went to spank her again, and she rolled out of the way, causing me to smack her in the arm.” I sigh.
“She jumped off the bed, accusing me of hitting her and abusing her.” The rest of the story starts falling from my lips now, uncontrollably.
“She got the media involved and tried to ruin my career. She said I was a freak.”
Riley leans forward now, grabbing my hand and squeezing. Normally, I wouldn’t allow anyone to touch me, but this is a soothing feeling that I didn’t know I needed. I’ve felt so far away from everyone since we ran into Alisha, and now, I’m accepting anything my team has to offer me.
“So, she wanted to play kinky games,” Rissa starts.
“But didn’t do her homework, had a bad time, and decided to call it a crime?
” She shakes her head, a piece of her chaotic energy returning.
“Babe. That’s like signing up for a marathon without training and then suing the organizers because your feet hurt. ”
“Alisha’s aura is the color of spoiled yogurt,” Riley adds.
The rest of the team who witnessed the chaos with Alisha earlier are murmuring, agreeing, and dissing my crazy ex.
Finally, Paige uncrosses her arms and lets out a long, slow breath. “You absolute fucking idiot,” she says, but there’s no heat in her words. “You have the emotional intelligence of a broody brick. Why didn’t you tell us? You let her paint you as a monster in front of everyone.”
“Because it didn’t matter.” The truth of it hits me in the gut. “In the court of public opinion, ‘she didn’t read the contract’ sounds like an excuse. I wasn’t experienced, but I carried the responsibility. I should have walked away the second I questioned the paperwork. That’s on me.”
“So, you’re not a violent predator,” Paige concludes. “You’re just a rule-obsessed domme who got ghosted by a shitty sub. That’s significantly less dramatic, but honestly, it’s more on brand for you.” She picks up her water bottle and chugs the rest of it.
“I bet Violet takes the cake as a submissive,” Rissa says, leaning into Paige.
My face falls flat, unable to talk about what happened between us because of her whole situation. I know she put her trust in me when she explained everything that happened between her and that awful company. I can’t tell the girls about any of it.
Paige notices my face. “Listen, I’m sure she’ll get better. It’s not like there’s a Lesbian for Dummies on the shelves of the local Barnes & Noble.”
I laugh despite myself. “Nah, she’s actually pretty great.” And tomorrow morning, I’m going to show her just how great she really is.
Rissa and Riley high-five. Paige smiles at me.
“You got us to the Olympics,” Paige announces. “You can do anything. I’m glad you got all that sorted out, Cappy.”
I narrow my eyes at her, but she simply gives me her biggest, award-winning grin in return.
“Now that that’s settled,” Liv, one of our defenders, cuts in. “Can we please talk about how we’re actually going to win this next game?” Her eyes fixate on me. “And Skye? Next time you decide to ethically explore someone’s kinks, maybe stick to people who don’t understand the sports media.”
For the first time since the accusations, I feel the team slot back into place around me. We have a game to win. Nothing will be left festering on the ice.
Paige leans against the wall opposite Violet’s door. Her arms are crossed, and one eyebrow is lifted so high it almost touches her scalp.
“This is pathetic,” she says, not for the first time since we’ve started walking here. “You’re giving her the middle school silent treatment, but you didn’t even make it twenty-four hours. You’re like a broody, leather-wearing helicopter parent.”
I ignore her and knock on the door. The sound is loud in the quiet hallway.
No answer.
I knock again, firmer this time.
Still no answer. Nothing but the faint hum of a vacuum cleaner several doors down.
An irrational threat of panic, not worry, tightens in my chest. Something dark and possessive.
Where is she?
Paige pushes off the wall, her smirk fading into something more serious as she reads my face. “Okay, relax, Captain Control. She’s a grown woman who is probably at the hotel bar drinking a Shirley Temple.”
I pull out my phone and open our text thread, hovering my thumb over the screen. The distance is a punishment for us both, but after she told me about this company, I can’t help but think that something is wrong.
I type a short, direct text.
Skye: Where are you?
The three dots appear almost instantly. She was waiting and watching her phone.
Violet: SKYE!
Violet: Nope, not focusing on that.
Violet: I’m out on the town with Cassie. We’re at a little jazz club in Navigli. It’s all brick and mood lighting.
I try not to grin at her rapid replies as she fights with her internal monologue. I let out a breath and clear my throat as if I’m actually talking with her face-to-face.
Skye: Just checking in. Couldn’t stay away.
I hit send before I can overthink it. The admission is a crack in my own armor, but if I expect her to be open with communication, then I have to do the same.
The dots dance again, but longer this time.
Violet: I’m glad you did. I’ve been thinking about you since you left me tied up in my bed.
I grin and catch Paige staring at me.
“Let it go,” I tell her.
She holds up her hands in surrender as I text Violet back.
Skye: Enjoy your night, baby girl. I won’t keep you. Don’t let Cassie talk you into anything that requires bail money.
Violet: Too late. We’re already planning our escape route from a vintage Vespa dealership.
I stare at the screen and notice Paige is still watching me with full amusement.
“So? Is the prisoner secure?”
“She’s out with Cassie.” My voice is back to its usual moody tone. “In Navigli.”
Paige whistles low. “Fancy.”
I want to laugh and say, “If you only knew,” but I know I can’t.
“And you’re just letting it happen? After the great collar betrayal?”
I almost hate that I told her, but it’s nice to have our banter include more than sticks and pucks. This is real. People know who I am, and they aren’t staring at me like I’m a freak. Hell, some of them almost looked turned on.
Too bad I’m spoken for.
“The punishment stands.” I start back down the hall toward the elevators. “The silent treatment is counterproductive. She needs to feel the absence of my control, not the absence of my presence. They’re different things.”
“Uh-huh.” Paige falls into step beside me. “And you texting her that you ‘couldn’t stay away’ is your way of demonstrating control?”
“Stop looking at my phone,” I groan, stepping inside the elevator and pressing the button for our floor. “It’s a strategic play in my role.” The lie tasted thin, even to me.
Paige cackles. “Right. Well, while you’re being strategic, what’s the plan for tomorrow? We have film at ten.”
The elevator starts rising, and I jam my hands into my pockets, pulling out my phone once more.
One more message. This isn’t a crack, it’s just reassertion.
Skye: I’ll need to steal you a bit tomorrow morning. Be ready.
Violet: I can swing by after I take Cassie to breakfast. She’s going to see that weird Vertical Forest building that my security double took his husband to see. It’s not really something I’m dying to see, so I’ll skip it.
Violet: P.S. You have to meet Michel and Tommy.
A ghost of a smile touches my lips. No, the Vertical Forest is not her style, or my style. Our style is shadows and possession, not trees growing on skyscrapers. Though I feel Violet would have a good time regardless of what she does, I know she’s only skipping to spend time with me.
My Grinch heart starts to grow.
Skye: Have fun at breakfast. I’ll see you at 9.
I don’t wait for a reply. I put my phone away and ignore Paige’s knowing gaze in the elevator mirror.
“More strategizing?” Paige asks, knowing I’m refusing to look at her.
I keep my eyes forward, watching the floor numbers descend. “Something like that.”
The truth is, I don’t entirely know yet. But Violet will be there, and for the first time since the concert, there won’t be any silence between us. It will be filled with her, and me, and whatever comes next.