Page 6

Chapter 6

Ryker

I paced the locker room, the weight of the PR disaster gnawing at me. Paige was in charge of managing the situation. Paige, who barely knew the players, who’d only been here a few days, was now telling them how to handle the media. It grated on me—this wasn’t just about the scandal; it was about control.

My control.

As captain, it was my responsibility to lead the team, both on and off the ice, but now it felt like everything was slipping through my fingers, and Paige was steering the ship.

She’d been too smooth, too calm during the crisis. Paige had immediately launched into PR mode, crafting statements and organizing media responses. I didn’t trust it. I needed to know more about her, about her past. I had a gut feeling there was something off—something more behind that polished exterior.

"Looks like we’ve got our very own crisis manager now." Asher Lawson lounged on one of the benches, a smirk playing on his lips. With his dark eyes and tousled hair giving off a roguish charm, he couldn’t resist a dig.

Dominic Soric leaned against his locker, eyes narrowed. With his platinum hair and sharp features, he had an edge to him. He crossed his arms and glanced at Asher.

"Yeah, maybe Ash over here was too busy dicking around to notice things going south," Dominic said with a sneer. "Considering he hasn't there when we jumped at the foray."

Asher bristled at Dominic’s insinuation and shot back immediately. "You're one to talk! Weren’t you caught with your pants down last season? Literally?"

The tension in the room spiked as Dominic pushed off from his locker and took a step toward Asher.

"That’s rich coming from you," Dominic said through gritted teeth. "At least I didn’t drag the whole team down with me."

Asher clenched his fists, ready for a fight. "You want to say that again?" he growled.

Before things could escalate further, I stepped between them.

"Enough!" My voice cut through the tension like a blade. "This isn’t helping."

The room fell silent as both players backed down but continued glaring at each other. The chaos around us was bad enough without internal squabbles making it worse.

I stood there, feeling the weight of my own mistakes pressing down on me. The tension between Asher and Dominic mirrored the conflict inside my head. I was frustrated, not just with them but with myself.

The summer fight haunted me more than I'd care to admit. It wasn’t like me to lose control, especially not in public. But that night, I’d let my guard down—something I rarely did. I'd been drinking, and that was mistake number one.

We weren’t making the playoffs; that much was clear. So when this supposed fan started mouthing off about my decisions during one of the final games, it wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard before. He criticized my strategies, saying I’d let the team down. Deep down, I agreed with him. I’d been pushing too hard, demanding perfection from everyone, including myself.

But then he crossed a line. He dragged Dominic’s personal life into it, spewing out details he had no right to know or judge. That’s when something inside me snapped. All the pent-up frustration, all the self-doubt—it boiled over.

I remembered lunging at the guy, shoving him against a wall as if it would silence his words and somehow erase my own failures. Security had to pull me off him. The whole incident had been a mess—one that could’ve easily cost me my career.

Since then, I made sure never to let my emotions get the better of me again. But seeing Asher and Dominic at each other’s throats brought back those memories with a vengeance. It was a stark reminder of why keeping control mattered so much.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me from the fray. A text from Derek lit up the screen:

I'll be at your place at 8PM.

I stood up, feeling the weight of my role settle on my shoulders. Asher and Dominic still glared at each other, ready to pounce.

"Listen up," I said, my voice steady and firm. "This isn't helping anyone. We're a team, and right now, we need to act like one."

They both looked at me, tension still simmering but held in check.

"You think Adams's going to fix this?" Asher asked, skepticism dripping from his words.

"If she doesn't, her ass is on the line," Dominic retorted.

"Why am I not surprised to find you talking about her ass?" Asher shot back, his tone mocking.

I rolled my eyes, fed up with their bickering. Without another word, I turned and left the locker room. I needed to clear my head, get some distance from the chaos.

The walk through the corridors of the arena felt longer than usual. The hum of distant voices and the echo of my footsteps were the only sounds accompanying me. I pushed open the door to the parking lot, breathing in the crisp evening air. It felt like a reprieve from the stifling tension inside.

Sliding into my car, I started the engine and let it idle for a moment. The text from Derek lingered in my mind. I wasn't sure what he wanted to talk about tonight, but knowing Derek, it was important.

I pulled out of the parking lot and navigated through the city's twilight streets. Streetlights flickered on as night began to settle in. My thoughts drifted back to Paige and how she’d handled herself today. Despite my reservations about her experience, she’d shown poise under pressure. Maybe there was more to her than I initially thought.

Still, this wasn’t just about one crisis or one day. This was about control—my control over this team and my life. Trusting someone new with that wasn’t something I could easily do.

Arriving home, I parked and took a deep breath before heading inside. Tonight would bring its own set of challenges with Derek's visit. But for now, all I could do was prepare myself for whatever came next.

I walked into my kitchen and set the kettle to boil. The familiar hum of the machine was a small comfort in an otherwise chaotic day. As I waited, I grabbed a mug from the cabinet and set it on the counter, feeling the weight of the upcoming conversation with Derek settle in my gut. I spooned coffee grounds into a filter, letting the routine ground me for a moment.

The water finally boiled, and I poured it over the grounds, watching as the dark liquid dripped into the mug. Black coffee—strong and unyielding, just how I liked it. I took a sip, feeling the bitterness wake me up.

A knock on the door broke through my thoughts. I set my mug down and walked over to answer it.

Derek stood there, his usual easy-going smile plastered on his face. He looked like he always did—tall and lean with that effortless charm. His hair was perfectly tousled, and his eyes had that spark that seemed to put everyone at ease.

"Hey, Ryker," he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "You look like you could use a drink stronger than coffee."

I closed the door behind him and shrugged. "It's been one of those days."

He glanced around my living room, taking in the neatness of it all. Derek always joked about how my place looked more like a show home than somewhere someone actually lived.

"You've really got to mess this place up sometime," he said, dropping onto my couch like he owned it.

I walked back to the kitchen and grabbed another mug from the cabinet. "Coffee?" I asked over my shoulder.

"Nah, I'm good," he replied. "Already had enough caffeine for today."

I poured myself another cup anyway and returned to the living room, sitting down across from him.

"So?" I asked, cutting straight to the point.

Derek leaned back, his expression turning serious. "It's about your assistant to the GM," he began. "Paige, right? She's a stone-cold fox." He whistled.

I tensed at her name but didn't interrupt.

"You said you were looking into Paige’s past?" I asked, my voice low, eyes sharp. Derek hesitated for a moment but then nodded.

"Yeah, I found some things from her time at the University of Michigan," Derek replied, lowering his voice. "Again, I didn't know?—"

"Her dating history, even if it dealt with my brother, is not what I'm asking about," I said, a warning in my tone.

"Sure, yeah, okay." He cleared his throat. "She worked in PR for their hockey team, but it wasn’t all clean. There were some… rumors."

"Go on," I urged, crossing my arms. I wasn’t in the mood for vague hints—I wanted details. Something I could use.

Derek leaned in, his tone more conspiratorial. "There was a hazing scandal involving the players. It got pretty bad—could’ve wrecked the team’s reputation, but Paige spun the whole thing, kept it out of the media. Barely anyone outside the university knew about it."

I frowned. "So, she’s good at her job."

Derek shook his head. "That’s not the only thing. There was a player who died in a drunk driving accident after a team party. The university managed to keep it quiet, and Paige was part of the team that controlled the fallout. There’s also talk of bribery—allegations that certain players got scholarships under the table, but again, Paige handled the spin. No stories hit the press."

I processed Derek’s words, a mix of admiration and suspicion churning inside me. Paige had managed to navigate through some serious storms without getting drenched. That took skill—and maybe something else.

"How reliable is this information?" I asked, leaning back in my chair.

Derek shrugged, a casual gesture that didn’t match the intensity of what he was saying. "It’s solid enough for me to believe there’s more to her than meets the eye."

I sipped my coffee, its bitterness matching my mood. If Paige had managed to bury such explosive scandals, she was either incredibly competent or incredibly ruthless—or both.

"Why didn’t any of this come up when the team vetted her?" I asked.

"I bet it did. Hell, it may be why Minka Mathers hired her in the first place." Derek leaned forward again, his eyes narrowing slightly. "That, or she’s good at covering her tracks. You don’t get to spin stories like those without knowing how to keep things under wraps."

I drummed my fingers on the table, considering my next move. This new information added another layer to Paige—one that made her even more intriguing and possibly dangerous.

My frown deepened, but it wasn’t enough. These were serious issues, sure, but it didn’t tell me everything.

“What else?” I pressed.

Derek hesitated again before continuing. “There was one more thing. There were rumors about Paige getting too close to one of the assistant coaches. Nothing was ever proven, but it caused some tension between the coaching staff and the team. Almost cost her job. No one knew the full story, but there were whispers about her using that relationship to protect herself—and to protect him.”

A coach?

This must have been around the time she left Brendan.

Did she leave Brendan for this asshole?

I wouldn't be surprised.

Just because Brendan and I weren't close, it didn’t matter. My father always said family came first. And I believed that.

My temper flared, but I reined it in, gripping the edge of the table until my knuckles turned white. The idea of Paige using someone—using family—to climb her way up the ladder made my blood boil. My mind raced, connecting dots and forming conclusions that only fueled my anger.

"You're sure about this?" I asked Derek, my voice low and controlled, though it felt like a storm brewing beneath the surface.

"Yeah," Derek nodded. "But it's all rumors. Nothing concrete."

Rumors or not, it was enough to set me on edge. Paige’s calculated moves painted a picture that clashed with her professional demeanor. If she’d manipulated people to protect herself, to advance her career—if she’d hurt Brendan in the process—it was unforgivable.

I stood up abruptly, needing to move, to do something to burn off this anger. Derek watched me, a knowing look in his eyes. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t need to. He understood how I operated.

I couldn’t let this slide. Family came first—always. And if Paige had crossed that line, she needed to be held accountable.

But for now, I had to stay calm, gather more information before making any moves. My father’s voice echoed in my head: “ Acting on impulse never leads to anything good .”

I clenched my fists, taking a deep breath and forcing myself to think clearly. This wasn’t just about me or my feelings—it was about doing what was right for Brendan and for the team.

And no matter what it took, I would get to the bottom of this.

Paige had a history of controlling narratives, of getting close to the right people, and using her influence to protect them. This assistant coach story seemed to suggest more than just professional misconduct. Could Paige have been spinning stories to cover for someone she was involved with? It didn’t matter if the rumors were vague—this was enough for me.

I felt a surge of irritation. Paige had manipulated entire situations in her past to protect people, all while maintaining this calm, polished exterior. Was that what she was doing now? Spinning my team’s scandal to protect herself or someone else? Maybe it was time to get ahead of this before she got too comfortable in her role. Maybe she and Leo Wolfe knew each other.

I wasn’t going to let Paige take control of my team’s image. I wouldn’t let her do to me what she did to others in her past, what she had done to Brendan. It was clear she knew how to manipulate situations, and right now, she was controlling the narrative around the scandal like it was a PR exercise. But this wasn’t just about media perception—this was my reputation, my team’s future.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts. "Thanks for looking into this," I said finally.

Derek nodded, his expression serious. "Just be careful, Ryker. And calm your tits, bro. She seems like she's doing right by the team."

"The fuck would you know?" I muttered, already lost in thought.

Derek stood up and clapped me on the shoulder before heading toward the door. "Call me if you need anything."

As soon as he left, I paced the living room again, my mind racing. Paige's past made me wary—her ability to navigate scandals with such ease made her both an asset and a potential threat.

And who the fuck had she been involved with? Maybe there was a way to check that out.

I had to confront her about this information, but not head-on. I needed a plan, a way to uncover what she was really after without tipping my hand too early. Maybe I could manipulate the situation. If she didn't do right by the team the way I saw fit, I'd go to Gideon about this.

And if he knew?

Well, surely, the public didn't.

This wasn’t just about protecting myself—it was about protecting the team from whatever hidden agendas she might have.

And she had to have one. Hell, maybe she was seeing Yamaguchi. No one knew shit about him even if he was a damn good coach.

The sound of my phone buzzing on the coffee table pulled me from my thoughts. Another message from Derek:

Stay sharp.

I smirked at his advice and tossed the phone back down. It looked like things were about to get even more complicated around here.

I stalked toward my bedroom, the tension in my shoulders ratcheting tighter with each step. Paige couldn’t be allowed to twist this situation any further. She might’ve been able to bury scandals back in Michigan, but this was my team, my reputation on the line. Whatever skeletons she had in her closet were staying there.

The room felt colder as I entered; the shadows lengthening with the setting sun. I sat on the edge of my bed, running a hand through my hair, trying to map out how I’d confront her without tipping her off. My phone buzzed again—a message from one of the team’s sponsors needing reassurance about our latest crisis.

I typed a quick response, promising them we had everything under control, and tossed the phone aside. The irony wasn’t lost on me; here I was trying to assure others while I felt the ground slipping beneath my feet.

Paige had handled today’s meeting with finesse—too much finesse for someone new. It made me question if she had orchestrated this whole thing just to prove herself indispensable. I wasn't sure how she got the footage, but it seemed like too much of a coincidence that three days after she got here, that video leaked. From three months ago.

The clock on my nightstand ticked away each second I sat there brooding. Time wasn’t on my side; every moment Paige continued to manage this crisis was another moment she could bury evidence or spin the narrative to her liking.

I stood up, pacing again. No more waiting. I needed to confront her now before she got too comfortable in her role. I grabbed my jacket from the chair and headed out of the bedroom.

The hallway stretched out before me like a gauntlet. Each step echoed louder than it should have, amplifying my resolve. I was positive she was still at the office, working her ass off.

This needed to end.

Now.