Page 102 of Sticks & Serpents

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air like an accusation too heavy to ignore. My heart raced as I watched the scene unfold, torn between the shock of his anger and the concern swirling in my chest.

My father sighed deeply, his expression barely masking his irritation as he glanced at Damien. “I know it’s a lie, Damien. But they’re trying to ruin Holly’s reputation.”

Damien's breathing grew heavy, nostrils flaring as if he could hardly contain the storm inside him. His jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might crack under the pressure. The intensity radiating off him sent a thrill of fear and awe through me; I knew he was fierce when provoked, but this felt different—this was primal.

Because this wasn’t just a rumor; it was personal.

This was his mother trying to destroy the only thing good in his life.

I could see how deeply this affected him—how every protective instinct he had surged to the surface like a tidal wave ready to crash down on anyone who dared threaten me. My chest tightened at that realization; for all our tumultuous history, for all our fights and distance, here we were facing something together that made us both vulnerable.

“Damien,” I finally said, my voice shaky as I tried to reach him through his fury. “It’s okay.”

But he shook his head sharply, cutting me off with a look that promised no retreat from this battle.

“No! It’s not okay! They’re not going to get away with this.” He turned back to my father, eyes blazing with conviction. “I won’t let them hurt her again.”

Every ounce of anger within him felt like a shield around me—a protection from whatever storm was brewing outside these walls. And yet part of me felt raw and exposed under the intensity of his gaze, knowing that this fight was just beginning and we were both caught in its grip.

I took another deep breath and braced myself for what would come next. My heart raced as I glanced between my father and Damien, both men radiating tension like charged wires ready to snap.

“What about Damien playing?” I finally asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions churning inside me.

My father watched me carefully, his expression unreadable. “I can fight this. But if I do, Damien might be benched indefinitely.”

Damien’s hands tightened into fists at his sides, knuckles white. “I don’t give a fuck about playing,” he shot back, the anger in his voice crackling like electricity in the air.

My father exhaled sharply, shaking his head slightly. “Then you’re a fool.”

The two men glared at each other—Damien’s fury met my father’s stoicism. I felt the weight of the moment pressing down on me; it was clear this argument wasn’t just about hockey or petty revenge. This was about Damien’s future.

My father folded his arms across his chest, voice steady but unyielding. “There’s one way to make this go away quietly.”

I braced myself, a knot tightening in my stomach as I prepared for what he was going to say next. I could already sense it looming over us like a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury.

My father met Damien’s gaze directly. “I’m removing Holly from the committee.”

The words hung in the air like an executioner's sentence.

“That way, the board sees this as an overreaction and drops the complaint.”

Damien stiffened at my side, his entire body going rigid with disbelief and anger. “No,” he growled through clenched teeth.

I gripped his arm gently, my heart racing even faster as I tried to keep my tone soft. “It’s the right call, Damien.”

His head snapped toward me, eyes blazing with indignation. His jaw tightened further as if trying to contain the storm brewing within him. “Bullshit.”

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to be the reason for any of Damien’s pain, but I needed him to have a future. His talent deserved recognition, and his potential should never be dimmed by my presence—or my father’s expectations.

“It doesn’t change anything between us,” I said, forcing the words out even as they felt heavy on my tongue.

His voice came out sharp, raw. “Doesn’t it?”

I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of his gaze on me. “Not for me.”

Damien looked away, his throat working as he tried to swallow back whatever emotions churned inside him. Fury radiated off him in waves, but deeper than that—he was hurt. The realization cut through me like a knife, twisting in a way that made me ache for him.

I squeezed his hand gently, trying to bridge the gap between us. “This is temporary. But your future isn’t.”

---