Page 92 of Dirty As Puck
And then Jake feeds me a perfect pass, right through the traffic of players marking us. For a heartbeat, the world slows. My stick meets the puck with a snap that rings like thunder.
It hits the top corner of the next. Goal.
The arena detonates. Fans start to scream, jump, and wave banners. The sound is deafening, but all I hear is my own breath, ragged with disbelief and relief.
My teammates swarm me, pounding my helmet, yelling my name.
Up in the press box, my eyes meet hers. Rochelle. Her hands are over her mouth, tears streaking her cheeks. She looks at me like I’m more than just a professional player on the ice, like I’m hers.
For the first time, I feel whole. I’m not just a guy on the ice, not just the foster kid who fought to matter. I have someone I love, and she loves me just as much.
I skate past the bench and point straight to her, letting the whole damn world see.
This win isn’t just for me. It’s for us.
The locker room is chaotic, with champagne spraying, and my teammates hollering, but all I can think about is what’s waiting on the other side of those cameras.
Not the highlight reels or the fans waiting for autographs. All I can think about are the vultures. The reporters that are ready to tear me apart with questions.
By the time I sit at the press conference table, lights blaze down so hot I sweat through my tracksuit. Reporters shout over each other, their questions like knives.
“Kai, what about the gambling rumors?”
“Care to comment on Derek Delaunay?”
“Were you aware of your father’s identity all along?”
Each word feels like a chain trying to drag me back into the shadows. But I’m done hiding, so I lean forward, elbows braced, my eyes locked straight into the cameras.
“You want the truth?” My voice cuts through the noise. “My half-brother tried to destroy me. He planted lies, blackmailed me,and tried to bury my career. But you know who refused to let that happen?”
The room goes silent, pens frozen midair.
“Rochelle Winters.”
I say her name like it’s armor. Like it’s the only headline that matters. “She dug through every false lead, every smear. She fought for the truth when none of you would. She’s not just a reporter, she’s the finest journalist I’ve ever met. And she gave me back my life.”
Gasps ripple. Cameras flash like lightning.
I know what I’ve just done, peeled back the last layer of my privacy and handed it to the world. But I don’t flinch.
Because in the corner of the room, I see her. Rochelle. Her eyes are wide, and moist with tears that she can’t hide. The look on her face makes every sacrifice worth it.
The reporters start asking questions again, chasing angles, but none of it matters. Not anymore.
For the first time, I don’t feel like I’m fighting alone. I’ve won my name back, my family, and something I never thought I’d have. A love that’s real, a love that lasts.
And as Rochelle stares back at me, her lips parting in that stunned, aching smile, I know.
This isn’t just my victory. It’s ours. Forever.
37
The morning sunlight spills across my apartment, warm and golden, but my phone is what jolts me awake. It’s beeping nonstop on the nightstand.
For a split second I think something’s wrong again, that Derek somehow found a way to claw back from ruin. But when I swipe open the screen, the truth hits me harder than caffeine ever could.
I have so many emails. Dozens of them. Most of them are from agencies…Offer to Join Our Team, Front Page Position, Senior Reporter Opportunity.
