Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mollie
"Eeek!" Indie swoops in for a hug. She gives good ones. Tight, warm, and not overly long. "Girlllll. It's been too long."
I can't help but laugh. "It's been two weeks. I saw you at one of the preseason games, didn't I?"
"You mean the one where Theo scored the winning goal and looked like a freaking god? Sure, I remember that. I definitely don't have a pic of us together as my background." She flashes me her phone screen and I see our faces, smooshed together and smiling. Celebratory.
"Mhm." I jerk my head at the arena behind me. "The guys will be on the ice later, but I thought we could skate a bit."
Indie's eyes widen. "For real? The last I recall, you'd quit skating altogether. Which is a crime since you're like... grace on ice skates."
"If I tell you a secret, you have to promise to keep it between us." I sigh, throwing my arm around her shoulders and walking her in. "Alex made me get on the ice. And it wasn't that bad, so... I've been skating here and there. Nothing competitive."
"That's so amazing. I'm really glad you weren't scared away by your injury."
I grin. "I should be. But I guess I'm stubborn."
"And I love that about you."
We head to the ice, stopping in the tunnel to drop our bags in the press room. Indie brought her skates because she's going to get on the ice later. I tug mine on and lace them up, feeling a tingle of recognition. I've lived a lot of places, but there is always one place that I called home.
And when I step onto the ice, I'm there. I lift my arms, dropping my head and closing my eyes. The chill in my bones hits so good.
I belong here.
"So?" Indie prompts as we begin a lap around the rink. "Tell me everything. We're BFFFLs so spill about Thorne."
"BFFFLs?"
She smirks. "Best friends forever for life. Duh."
"Right. Of course." I smile and roll my eyes. "Things with Alex are good. More than good.”
"And Beck? Does he still think you’re just roommates?"
"It’s complicated. No, he doesn't know." I squint. "But Alex did take me to dinner to meet his parents, so..."
Her eyes widen. "So he is serious."
"I think so. He was going to tell my brother, but I asked him not to. Not yet. I just want to enjoy our little bubble first."
"I hope you are getting the best sex ever.
I mean, I know you have nothing to compare it to since you've essentially been saving yourself for Thorne since forever.
But I can tell that he's fucking bomb in bed.
" Her eyes gleam with excitement. "Does he have any weird kinks?
Oh god, does he like to be called Daddy or something? "
"What? Ew!" My face turns the approximate shade of a plum tomato. "He does tell me I'm his good girl a lot, though."
"Mollie!" She fans herself, pretending to faint. "I imagine he's pretty bossy in the bedroom, too."
My lips tip up. "He's definitely dominant. That's the right word. I think."
"Fuck! I never thought I'd hear you calling a hockey player hot and dominant. Guess your rule didn't keep Alex Thorne from breaking down your door and taking what he wants."
"No." I bite down on a secret smile. "It really didn't."
"So, when are you going to tell Beck?"
"No idea. I think we'll have to tell him sooner rather than later, though. Alex doesn't really like lying to him. I can tell."
"Understandable. Well, your secret is safe with me." She links arms with me. "Think you can still skate backward?"
"I haven't tried. But you've already seen me bust my ass a thousand times, so... might as well test it out now."
Giggling, we both reverse course, skating backward. My ankle throbs a little as unused muscles protest, but it holds. Which is all I can ask for. "Still works like a charm," I joke. I'm not moving particularly fast, but no one is keeping track.
"Oh shit." Indie tugs at my arm. "We're not alone."
"Why would we be? The ice is open for all uses right now." I turn to look across the rink and freeze.
Coach Savard is skating out onto the ice, leading a group of three young girls. He's facing away from us, but he looks the same: dark track pants, a zip-up athletic jacket, his arms folded across his chest. His wavy golden hair is clipped short. He raises a hand. "Dani, arch your back more."
His French-Canadian accent sends an icy blast through my veins. My mouth goes dry.
"Fuck." I whirl away from him, pulse pounding. "I know that his world didn't stop turning just because I dropped out of the Nationals, but fuck. What is he doing here?"
"I don't know." Indie grabs my wrist. My pulse is racing, but I feel slightly more grounded at her touch. "You want to go?"
"No! He won't drive me off the ice. This arena belongs to me more than him."
A vindictive smile lights her face. "Attagirl.
You're right, we should just go about our business.
" She links arms with me, taking off at an easy pace.
"You should make him uncomfortable, not the other way around.
He dumped you like a bag of trash so the fact that you're still doing well should haunt his French ass. "
"French-Canadian," I emphasize. "He wishes he was French."
We do an easy loop around our half of the rink, sticking to our side. Savard hasn't recognized me yet, or perhaps has chosen not to let on. That's fine by me.
"So what actually happened before you broke your ankle? You two got into an argument?” Indie asks. “It must’ve been bad. I remember that Savard didn’t even show up at the hospital when you had surgery.”
I rip my eyes from Savard’s back, my mouth tightening. Should I tell my best friend the extent of our argument? What it was really about?
She's a feisty soul. She could freak out and confront my former coach if she knows the full truth. And he made it perfectly clear that if I talk about the event, he’ll sue me.
But hiding it from her seems like carrying water for the man that hurt me. I don't want to bear the weight. That's his responsibility.
“Don’t freak out.” I blow out a long stream of breath. "I haven't really told anyone the whole story." I wait a beat, but Indie's brow only furrows. She's a good listener.
"Half an hour before my competition, Coach Savard.
.. He tried to kiss me. He... uh... put his hand on my breast. And told me that he'd been waiting for me to want him like a woman wants a man.
" I flinch at the memory. The smell of his breath, how powerless I felt.
"I didn’t want it at all. So I just said I didn't know what he was talking about.
He um… laughed? Then he kissed me. And he groped me. "
"What the fuck?" Indie looks horrified. "What did you do?"
Shame creeps up. "Nothing. I froze. I didn't know how to react so I just... let it happen. It felt really icky."
Indie winds her arms around me, hugging me. "Oh, honey. I'm so sorry."
"I just kind of stood there, gaping, as he... touched me. He grabbed my hand and tried to get me to hold his dick.” Tears form in my eyes.
"And that was enough that I shoved him off me.
He called me a spoiled brat, told me to get with the program.
.. and then twenty minutes later, I fell.
It wasn't a hundred percent his fault, but I was distracted. "
Indie sniffles and buries her face in my curls. "I'll kill him. The bastard thinks that he can just go on coaching young girls? Fuck no. Not when I’m around."
I wipe at my eyes and take a big gulp of breath. "He sent me a letter from his attorney, warning me that if I said anything, he'd come after me. I guess at some point, I signed an NDA as part of standard paperwork to hire him as a coach. So, I'm fucked."
"Yeah, right." She snorts. "My dad's a lawyer, babe. He taught me that you can't hold someone under a non-disclosure agreement if what you didn't want them to say was in any way illegal. What he did sounds like sexual assault. There's no NDA that can cover that up."
“Wait.” I come to a complete stop, staring at my best friend. “Really?”
Indie snorts. “Yeah, really. His NDA isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on.”
"The bastard." I turn to glare at Coach Savard, who has definitely noticed me. "The fucking bastard. I’ve been handcuffed by an NDA that isn’t legal?"
“I’m sorry, babe.”
As I watch, he touches one of the girls on the back. Correcting her, I’m sure. My blood boils. I’m not going to let him get away with making her feel dependent on him. As if he’s essential for her to keep competing.
Fuck Jean-Luc Savard.
“I… I want to speak out,” I tell Indie. “I want to let the parents of these girls know just what a skeevy low-life he is.”
“Really?” Indie’s eyes light up. "You should tell your brother. Or your boyfriend. Either one will probably pound him into tomorrow."
I look at the three young girls that he has skating in a wide circle around him. "What if... he does it again?"
"Oh god. Thinking about it makes me sick." Her eyes follow the girls too. "So, are you going to tell your brother or Thorne?"
I slowly shake my head. "I don't know."
Across the ice, I see Coach Savard break away from his class and skate toward me. The look on his face says that he's about to start yelling at me. I can imagine that all too well.
"Let's go." I motion to Coach Savard heading our way and skate toward the tunnel. Indie stiffens but hesitantly follows.
She does drag a finger across her throat while glaring at him, which seems to stop him in his tracks. His gaze narrows on us as we hit the hallway.
My boss, Juliet, is in the press room when we duck in to grab our bags and take off our skates. She looks up from her laptop with a grin.
"You found me out. This is where I like to work to hide out from everyone else."
I chuckle. "I won't tell anyone, I promise."
"Hey, that guy skating out there," Indie butts in. "Do you know why he's here?"
I cut her a look but don't say anything. Juliet leans forward, pursing her lips.
"That's Coach Savard. He's being considered for an auxiliary position on the staff. Basically, a part-time coach? Something like that. Why?"
I shake my head at Indie, who wisely decides to play dumb. "No reason. I was just curious."
"Ah." Juliet smirks. "He is pretty hot. He's got that swagger that only hockey players ever have."
"Hockey players?" Indie asks.
"He used to be a hockey player before he blew out his knee," I say.
"If you already know who he is, why are you asking me?" Juliet looks between us skeptically. "Is this a TikTok thing I don't understand? Please don't make me look old online. I don't want to be a meme."
"You're fine," I rush to assure her. "Indie was more curious why he was here. Right?"
Knocking her elbow, I arch a brow. She nods.
"Yeah, just wondering."
Juliet stares at us for a long beat before sitting back. "All right. Mollie, can you text me the top five most popular TikToks you've made this month? I need to include them in my monthly report."
"Of course. We'll just let you get back to work." Grabbing my bag, I pull Indie along with me. She makes a frustrated sound, still trying to get her shoe on, but I straight up don't care.
When we get a little way down in the hallway, I whisper, "Okay, Savard can't join this team. For like a hundred reasons."
"Right there with you. In fact, I don't know why you didn't just tell Juliet. She seems nice enough."
I bite my lower lip. "The thing about telling my story is that I can't put the genie back in the lamp. Once I tell someone, the story becomes a scandal. My power, whatever I had, is gone. I want to be sure that I've really thought it through so this doesn't somehow blow back on me."
Indie tugs on a strand of blue hair, thoughtful. "I can see that. But what now?"
"I don't know. Let's go grab lunch somewhere and hatch a plan. If you're still with me, that is."
"Every minute of every day, I'm with you." She offers me her elbow. "Come on. Cheese fries are calling our name."
Following Indie, I find myself distracted.
This whole time I’ve thought my hands were tied. I thought I’d signed my voice away when I signed that paper. My ankle throbs and I’m angry all over again.
But I’m not powerless anymore.