5
1081 Words
Mia POV
My father's office felt like a courtroom. I sat in the guest chair, arms wrapped around myself, trying to stop the shaking.
Cole stood by the window, his back to the room, shoulders tight. Marcus had been sent to the medical ward with a bag of ice and a lie about tripping down the stairs.
No one believed the lie. But no one asked him questions.
"What happened?" Coach Vance snapped as he stood behind his desk, both palms flat on the mahogany, leaning forward. "I want an answer. Now."
I opened my mouth. Closed it. What could I say that he hadn't heard before? If I told him, he would just tell me that I was being dramatic and loved attention.
There was no proof that Marcus had hit me. Only Cole's knuckles were bloody and Marcus's face was swollen. He wouldn't believe me especially when he had already chosen his side the moment he traded for Marcus.
"Mia." His voice sharpened. "I asked you a question."
"I tripped," I said.
"You tripped," he repeated.
"I tripped, and Cole was coming up the stairs, and Marcus was there, and they got into some argument. I don't know. I wasn't paying attention."
My father stared at me for a long moment. Then he turned to Cole.
"Ryder. What happened?"
Cole didn't turn around. His voice was low, uninterested. "It won't happen again."
"That's not what I asked," he slammed his hands on the table and I flinched.
"I know what you asked but what happened doesn't matter. I said it... It won't happen again." Cole insisted.
My father's face reddened. He walked around the desk, stopped inches from Cole's back. "You punched our new franchise player in the face. In a stairwell. Where anyone could have seen. Do you understand what would happen if this got out?"
"Then maybe you shouldn't have traded for a piece of garbage who puts his hands on women."
Silence.
I stiffened.
My father's jaw tightened, he looked at me, then back at Cole. Something passed between them... something I didn't understand.
"I don't know what game you're playing," my father mumbled slowly. "But I'll tell you what's going to happen. You, Ryder, are going to be Marcus's personal coach. Skating drills. Conditioning. One-on-one. You're going to fix whatever this nonsense is by spending time together."
Cole turned around. His face was pale, his knuckles swollen as he said "No."
My father shook his head. "It wasn't a suggestion."
Cole's hands curled into fists. "I said no."
"You don't have a choice." My father smiled, thin and mean. "You're the assistant coach. He's a player. You'll train him, or you'll find another team to limp around for. Good luck with that."
I stood up. "Why can't someone else train him? Why does it have to be Cole?"
My father's head whirled toward me. His eyes narrowed. "What is it to you?"
The question hung in the air. What is it to you?
I couldn't say I love him. I couldn't say He's the only one who believes me. I couldn't say because Marcus will destroy him the way he destroyed me.
So I said nothing. I grabbed my bag and walked out of the office.
"Mia!" My father screamed. I didn't turn back. But the moment the door closed behind me, my legs gave out.
I made it to the equipment storage room. The one at the end of the hall, where old jerseys and broken skates went to die. I locked the door. I slid down the wall. And I cried. Everything was falling apart and I had nothing to do about it. I tried to stop the tears but it just kept on coming.
This was the last thing that I should be doing. I knew but I had been holding thks tears for a long time and I wouldn't be fine until I let it out.
My nails dug into my palm. I shouldn't let Marcus get to me.
The door suddenly opened and a smell that I recognized wafted into my nose.
Cole.
He must have picked the lock. Or the key was in the hall. I didn't care. I just wanted to be alone.
"Get away from me," I said into my knees.
He didn't get away.
He crossed the room in three limping steps, lowered himself to the floor beside me, and pulled me into his chest.
I pushed against him. "I said..."
"I heard what you said." His arms didn't loosen. "I'm not listening."
I stopped pushing. My body betrayed me. I collapsed into him... my face against his chest, his heartbeat under my ear, his hand cradling the back of my head.
"What happened?" he asked quietly. "All of it. No more lies."
And I told him.
Everything.
The first time Marcus backhanded me. The way he apologized with flowers and tears. The second time. The third. The night he broke my wrist and told the ER doctors I'd fallen down the stairs. The restraining order that didn't matter because he always found me. The hospitals I transferred to. The cities I fled. The way I stopped sleeping with the lights off.
"I'm scared," I whispered. "I'm so scared. He's here. He's never going to leave. And my father...my father is going to make you train him. He's going to make you spend every day with the man who..."
Cole tilted my chin up, his thumb brushed the tears from my cheek. His face was so close I could see the gold flecks in his blue eyes, the scar above his eyebrow, the pain he carried that matched mine.
"Listen to me," he said. "Marcus Webb is never going to touch you again. Not while I'm breathing. Do you understand?"
"Cole, you can't..."
"I can. I will." His forehead pressed against mine. "I've spent eighteen months losing everything...my career, my body, my reason for waking up. But I'm not losing you. Not to him. Not to your father. Not to anyone."
I held my breath.
"Mia." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Be my girlfriend."
My heart stopped.
"Not a secret. Not a fling. Mine." He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. "Say yes. And I swear to you...I will burn this whole organization to the ground before I let anyone hurt you again."
I opened my mouth to answer and then my father's voice echoed from the hallway: "Mia? Where are you?"
- Writer
