Page 43 of Icebreaker

Then, a tipping point came. Dante appeared on a popular sports radio talk show. He spilled out a fake tale of heartbreak and betrayal. With his breath catching in his throat, he told the listening audience how I'd used him and cast him aside like so much trash. Nobody confronted him, and they ignored the fact that he was talking about precisely what he did to me.

I listened to the interview alone in my car. It had made my blood boil. How could he lie, paint himself as a victim, and have nobody around to fact-check his ridiculous story?

Quinn found me sitting in the car in the arena parking lot, and he tapped on the window. When I looked up, tears of rage staining my face, he knew.

I rolled the window. "Axel, please talk to me," he begged. "You don't have to go through whatever this is alone."

Finally, he managed to break through the walls. He'd found a weak link. I asked him to climb into the car next to me. When hesettled into the seat and closed the door, I fell apart. All the pain, fear, and anger that had been devouring me erupted.

"I can't do this anymore," I choked out. "I can't keep pretending I'm okay every day when I can barely breathe."

Quinn reached across to me and did his best to hold me in his arms while I began to weep. "You don't have to pretend around me. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll sort this out, the two of us."

I clung to him, letting his strength seep into my bones. When we were together, touching, I didn't feel so alone.

With Quinn's encouragement, I showed up for our next game at the last minute. It had allowed me to avoid most of my teammates' idle talk and deal directly with hockey only.

I stepped onto the ice, determined to return to my old groove and show that I was stronger than Dante's lies. My body refused to cooperate. My passes missed their mark, and I took a rare shot that went ridiculously wide of the net. In the final minutes of the third period, I tried to clear the puck from our zone and missed. Our opponents scored and won the game.

After the game, reporters swarmed me in an arena hallway, shoving microphones in my face."

"Axel, what's your answer to the allegations about your past? Do you think they're to blame for your poor performance on the ice?"

Each question was like the jab of a boxer, poking at my face and my gut, attacking my pride and privacy. The bright flash of the cameras stung my eyes, and anger started to boil up inside me.

I fought to hold it all back. The stale air had become suffocating, and the reporters had trapped me against a wall so I couldn't escape.

"I said no comment," I growled, my voice low like the warning notes from a feral animal. I tried to push past them, but theymoved as one big mass, blocking my way. Another wave of questions pummeled me.

"Axel, the fans deserve to know—"

That line was the one that caused me to snap. The fans didn't deserve to know anything about my private life. Rage, fueled by humiliation, surged throughout my body.

"Stop!" I hurled the word out of my throat, raw and jagged. I shoved the nearest reporter with shaking hands and my pulse pounding in my ears. The world had tilted, and for a moment, I had thought I might explode into a million pieces in front of everyone.

The reporter's eyes widened in shock, and his microphone clattered to the floor. A hush fell over the group. I glared at them, my chest heaving, fists clenched at my sides. Every muscle in my body tensed for a fight.

Quinn suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and his hand clamped down on my arm. "Axel, this isn't the way," he whispered in my ear. He pulled on my elbow, firmly edging us away from the stunned reporters.

As we picked up speed, I managed to breathe again. They weren't following us, and Quinn wasn't letting go. His support was steadfast, reminding me of what I had to lose if I couldn't control myself.

Back at my apartment, he confronted me. "Axel, this has to stop. You're letting Dante into your head, and it's tearing you apart. It could even destroy us."

I slumped onto the couch and lowered my head into my hands. "That's just it. I don't know how to make it stop. He's everywhere, and every time he opens his mouth, he lies about me. They eat it up, and I feel like I'm losing my mind."

Quinn knelt in front of me and held my hands. "Then, let's fight back. Let's tell our story and set the record straight. We'll do it together. They'll have to face us as a united front."

I looked into his eyes, seeing his fierce love and determination. He was right. I couldn't let Dante win, not this time around. I had to stand up for myself and call out his lies in public.

"Okay, I'm ready to handle it." My voice was raw, but the words didn't waver.

Quinn hugged me, and he kissed the side of my neck. "I'll be right here at your side every step of the way."

I felt hopeful as we held each other. Quinn changed the game. It wasn't only about me anymore. It was about the man I loved and a great group of teammates. Dante started the war, but I knew we could win it. We had love and the truth on our side.

"We'll fight this, but we need a plan." Quinn was ready to move forward. "We can't just react; we need to be proactive. What if we reached out to some of your old teammates, the ones who were there during your time with Dante? They could help back up your story and show that you're telling the truth."

I pulled back and cupped his face in my hands. "I love you so very much. Thank you for being everything to me," I said, sharing a tender kiss.

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