RUINED BY THE RIVAL: THE CAPTAIN’S SECRET SACRIFICE

CHAPTER 5: PAWN ON THE ICE

RUINED BY THE CAPTAIN

“You’re not going anywhere near that locker room tomorrow.”

He says it like it’s law, slamming the burner phone down hard enough to rattle the half-empty coffee mug beside it. Rain still hammers the glass, dark streaks blurring the neon city bleeding into the night, and the broken stick lies splayed on the floor like something dead and discarded. My skin still hums everywhere he touched me—hot, throbbing, impossible to shake off even when cold fear coils tight in my gut. Every breath tastes like him: cedar, ice, the sharp clean tang of danger I’ve been running from for five years.

“Like hell I’m not,” I shoot back, crossing my arms tight over my chest, boots planted firm like I’m digging in for a fight I’ve already lost before it starts. “I didn’t drive all night, didn’t walk back into the one place that broke me, just to hide in a penthouse while they play games with our lives. They want me in this game? Fine. But I’m not playing by their rules. I’m not letting them turn me into some helpless thing you have to rescue all over again.”

He steps into my space fast, looming over me, jaw set so hard I can see the muscle jump under stubble. The cold mask slams back into place—captain, rival, the monster everyone fears—but I catch the cracks spiderwebbing through it now. The way his eyes dart to the windows every few seconds like he expects a bullet to come through. The way his hands clench and unclench at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to grab me and run until we hit the ocean. The way his breath hitches every time I say we.

“You think this is some damn story?” His voice drops low, rough enough to scrape bone. “You think they send boxes and broken sticks just to scare you off? They test people, Ember. Push until you crack, until you beg, until you’ll trade anything just to make it stop. And if you walk onto that ice tomorrow… you’re walking right into their hands. You’re handing them exactly what they’ve been waiting for.”

“Or I’m making sure they don’t get to call all the shots.” I tilt my chin up, heart thrashing wild against my ribs, and step closer until our chests almost brush, until I can feel the heat rolling off him in waves. “You’ve carried this alone for five years. You’ve let them push you around, let them use you like a weapon, let them paint you as the villain so no one would look too close. I’m done letting you fight my battles for me. I’m done letting you take every hit while I sit safe in the dark.”

For a long, heavy second he just stares at me, like he’s seeing me for the first time all over again. Like he’s realizing the girl he thought he had to save is gone—and the woman standing here isn’t going anywhere. Then he lets out a slow, ragged breath that shakes his whole frame, and one hand lifts slow like he’s gonna touch my face before he catches himself and drops it hard to his side like he’s been burned.

“You have no idea what you’re walking into,” he says, quieter now, almost broken. “If they get their hands on you… there’s no undoing it. I spent five years dragging my own name through the mud just to make sure you were too small, too far gone, too beneath their notice to care. Now you’re right out in the open. Every eye. Every camera. Every one of their rats.”

“Then tell me everything.” I hold his gaze steady, no waver, no flinch, just the raw truth I’ve been chasing since I got back. “Tell me about Liam’s debts. Tell me who they work for. Tell me why that night mattered so much more than a stupid game. Stop protecting me by lying—protect me by letting me stand with you. Stop treating me like glass when I’ve been breaking myself just to keep up.”

His throat bobs hard. He looks away, staring at the broken stick, at the photo taped there where all three of us are smiling like we had forever. I see the memory hit him—sharp, painful, fresh enough to make his eyes shine. I remember that night too: the way he’d lingered by the door, the way he’d looked at me like I was the only thing worth seeing, the way he’d never once looked at Liam like that. I remember how I’d brushed it off, told myself it was just nerves, just the game. I had no idea he was already choosing.

“Practice starts at six,” he says finally, voice flat like it hurts to speak every word. “You stay within ten feet of me at all times. No going anywhere alone. No talking to anyone who isn’t staff or a teammate I trust. If I say run—you run. No questions. No arguing. No looking back.” He meets my eyes again, raw and burning. “And if anything happens… you let me take it. You hear me? Every hit, every threat, every damn thing they throw—you let me take it. You don’t fight back. You don’t draw eyes. You just stay behind me.”

I reach out, slow and sure, and rest my hand flat over his heart. It’s hammering fast, wild, matching mine beat for beat. I can feel the jagged scar under my palm—thick, raised, the one he’d tried to hide under his hoodie earlier.

“I’m not letting you carry it alone anymore,” I say soft but firm. “We take it together. The hits, the lies, the end of it all. Together.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, and for a second I think he’s gonna kiss me again—right here, right now, with threats hanging over our heads and enemies closing in fast. Instead he turns away fast, grabbing the tongs again to pick up the box, his shoulders hunched like he’s bracing for another blow. He carries it to the heavy safe in the study, locks it away with three sharp clicks like he’s locking up the past itself, and when he comes back out his face is wiped clean of everything but grim, exhausted resolve.

“Get some rest,” he says, not looking at me. “You’ll need it. They won’t hold back. They don’t play fair.”

I turn to walk to my room, but he catches my wrist—fingers gentle but unshakable, like he’s scared I’ll vanish if he lets go. He hesitates, then brushes his thumb once over my pulse, slow and warm, sending fire skittering straight up my arm and settling hot in my chest.

“I should have told you sooner,” he whispers, so quiet I almost miss it over the rain. “I just… I thought silence would keep you safe. I thought if you hated me enough, you’d never come looking.”

Before I can answer, his phone buzzes again—once, twice, three short sharp bursts that make my skin prickle. He snatches it up, jaw locking tight, and I see the color drain from his face. He holds the screen out so I can read the single line glowing there: Nice try hiding her. We already have a seat saved right where she’ll fall first.

CHAPTER 5 END