Page 11 of Boots & Scars

The girl might have been an unexpected thorn in my side today, but out here? Out here I was in control. Out here, nobody could touch me—not even a blonde with eyes like spring leaves and skin like fine china.

Today, the rink was my sanctuary, a rare place of solitude where the echo of my skates against the ice was the only sound that mattered. Finals week had emptied the place, leaving it as barren and as still as a frozen pond at dawn. I relished the silence, feeling it seep into my bones, offering a kind of peace that eluded me in other parts of my life.

The crisp air filled my lungs as I carved figure eights into the untouched surface. The rink was mine alone; there were no expectations, no prying eyes, just the purity of the ice and the freedom it offered.

Drifting towards the lobby to grab a bottle of water, I caught the blare of a TV against the stillness. It was like a siren shattering the calm sea, an unwelcome intrusion. The NHL Network's theme jolted me back to reality.

"…now we speak to Ashley Benson, the ex-fiancée of Cooper Sinclaire."

My grip tightened around the neck of the water bottle. There she was on-screen, her honey-brown hair styled in loose waves that framed her perfectly made-up face. Ashley had always known how to present herself, with those brown eyes and asmile that could light up any room—but only when cameras were rolling.

Of fucking course. Anger flared within me like a match struck in darkness.

I should've known they'd drag me through the mud after what they did to Bradley when his marriage ended. The media vultures were never satisfied; they craved drama like it was oxygen.

"You were in the suites during that fateful game February 29. Can you tell us what happened?" The host's voice was syrupy sweet, laced with faux concern.

Ashley inhaled sharply, her act as polished as ever. "Coop has always had a temper," she began, her voice soft yet calculated. "I loved him despite it. But I've never seen him lose it like that. I'm going to be honest, Becky. I was scared."

Coop.

That name on her lips felt like betrayal. It was reserved for teammates and true friends—people who'd been through hell and back with me—not someone who'd turned her back when things got tough.

She didn't deserve to call me Coop. Not anymore.

The screen flickered as Becky's sympathetic gaze bore into Ashley's perfectly poised demeanor. "I can only imagine," Becky said. "Did you know he was capable of something that… violent?"

"Absolutely not," Ashley responded, her voice laced with feigned shock. "Right after it happened, I told Cooper we were through. I couldn't justify that kind of violence, even in a game."

The way she said my name, as if it left a sour taste in her mouth, made my skin crawl. I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me like a geyser ready to erupt.

"Actually," I muttered, "you left me the second Texas dropped me. But let's not worry about the details."

"I've heard rumors say Matthews was speaking about you in a disparaging manner," Becky prodded.

"Even if that's true," Ashley said with a dismissive wave of her hand, "he doesn't have to resort to that. It's unnecessary. And quite frankly, it demeans this great sport."

"Fucking gold digging cunt," I muttered under my breath, my hands balling into fists at my sides. With a sharp turn, I faced away from the TV.

At that precise moment, the door creaked open and John Walker sauntered in. He carried himself with an air of quiet confidence that annoyed the fuck out of me.

"Fuck," I breathed out, slamming the water bottle onto the nearest table.

"Do I even want to know why you decided to antagonize Callum Bronson today?" Walker asked, his tone even but edged with exasperation.

I leaned against the wall, letting out a slow breath. "The little shit was getting handsy with a girl who must have been mute because she couldn't say no," I drawled.

Walker rolled his eyes at my explanation. His patience seemed to stretch thin as he crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for me to continue. "You ready for today?"

"Ready for what?" I shot back, my glare meant to cut through whatever bullshit Walker had planned for me.

Walker just smirked, a look that told me he was enjoying this far too much. "I think I'm going to watch you today," he said.

"Oh, joy," I replied dryly. "Can't wait."

"Get on your knees," he commanded, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Help these kids lace up their skates. It'll be a humbling experience for you."

I clenched my jaw, my fists itching for something to hit. But I couldn't let him win this little game of his.

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