Page 128 of Arrogant Puck

“Hey,” I manage, my voice still thick with tears. “How was your game?”

“It was good. We won. Only got a few times in the box.”

I take a shaky breath, needing to know for sure. “Where is your game again?”

“I’m in LA.”

And that’s all I need to hear. The silence stretches between us as the confirmation settles in my stomach like a stone.

“Slater,” I start to cry again, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks.

“Don’t cry, baby.” His voice is gentle, soothing. “It’s over now.”

That confirmation makes me cry more. I’m scared like hell. What has he done?

“You promised,” I sob into the phone.

“I kept my promise to keep you safe.”

“Where are you?” I need to know he’s somewhere safe, that he’s not in trouble, that this isn’t going to come back to destroy him.

“At my hotel.”

“How did you—”

“Sage, baby,” he interrupts, his voice firm but loving. “What’s done is done, okay? I promised to keep you safe, and this is me keeping my word.”

I don’t know how to feel. Part of me is horrified at what he’s done, terrified of the violence he’s capable of. But underneath that fear, something else is blooming in my chest.

Relief.

Pure, overwhelming relief that floods through me like warm water. He went through all this trouble. He somehow found my ex, sought him out, and did this just for me. He put himself at risk—his career, his freedom, his future—to protect me from the monster who’s been terrorizing me.

If this isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

“Are you okay?” I whisper. “Are you hurt? Are you in trouble?”

“I’m fine, baby. Everything’s fine.”

“But what if—”

“No what-ifs,” he says firmly. “He’s never going to bother you again. Ever. I made sure of that.”

I close my eyes, trying to process the mix of emotions swirling through me. Fear, relief, gratitude, love, terror—all of it tangled together until I can’t separate one feeling from another.

“I can’t believe this,” I whisper.

“I’d do anything for you. I thought you knew that by now.”

“I do, I just... I never expected...” I trail off, unable to find the words.

“Expected what?”

“That someone would care enough to...” I can’t finish the sentence.

“To what? To make sure the piece of shit who’s been ruining your life gets what he deserves?”

The protectiveness in his voice makes something warm and grateful bloom in my chest. For months now, I’ve been fighting this battle alone. I’ve been the victim, always on the defensive, always running. But Slater didn’t just offer to help—he took action. He ended it.

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