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Savannah's voice is soft when she steps into the room, but it still hits me harder than any punch will tonight. “You don't have to do this, you know?”

It's a thought that's been running through my head like a broken record. What would really happen if I didn't go through with this? Is Luke just all talk and no game? Am I willing to risk finding out what he'll do to her if I didn't show?

No.

Fuck no.

I don't look up because if I look at her, really look at her, I might not go. And I have to go. This isn't just a fight. It's a chance. Maybe the only one I'll ever get to end this nightmare once and for all.

Behind her, Stanley barks once, sharp and accusatory like he's casting his vote with his mom. Perfect. Even our damn dog thinks I've lost my mind.

“I have to,” I say, yanking my boot laces tighter than necessary. “You know I do.”

She takes a step closer, and I can feel her eyes burning holes in the back of my head.

I know that look without even seeing it.

It's not anger. Anger would be easier to deal with.

It's hope. It's her still believing she can talk me out of this, still thinking there's another way out of the hell Luke's created for us.

“No, I don't,” she says, and even though her voice is steady, I can hear the tremor underneath. “You don't have to do anything. You can walk away.”

“I don't have a choice, Sav.”

“Bullshit.” The word cracks like a whip, and there's the fire I've been waiting for. Two days. We’ve been fighting and fucking for two days now because apparently disagreeing on something so vehemently is the perfect foreplay.

“You always tell me I have a choice. Well, guess what? You do too.”

I stand up, grabbing my hoodie from the back of the chair and pulling it over my head with more force than necessary. The fabric feels like armor, but not the kind that'll protect me from her words.

“I need to get into that bar. I need someone on the inside to plant the USB. This is the only way in, and we both know it.”

She exhales a frustrated and hollow breath. “Why do you even care about that if you’re fighting?” Her voice is tight and ragged. “That’s all Luke ever wanted from you. The fight. Your blood for my debt.”

“Exactly.” I snap, my eyes locking with hers. “And that’s why he’s going to lose.”

She stills as I take a step closer. “He’s obsessed with the wrong target. He’s focused on me. On how I can’t stop looking at you. He thinks that’s his edge. That I’m weak because I love you.”

A bitter smile pulls at the corner of my mouth.

“But what he doesn’t see is that I want him watching me. I need him watching me. Because the real hit? The knockout?” I lean in. “It’s coming from the other side, and he’s too arrogant to see it. Too consumed by his anger towards me.”

Just as I go to kiss her, she backs away. “It’s misdirection,” I tell her. “And misdirection wins fights.”

She rolls her eyes, but there's no real heat behind it. Just exhaustion. “It’s not a fight you need to take on.”

“It is.”

Her arms cross tight over her chest. “I can’t believe you, Cade.”

She steps back, just one step, but it hits like a goddamn uppercut.

Worse than any punch I’ll take in the ring tonight.

Worse than anything Luke could throw at me because that space between us?

It’s not just physical. It’s a fucking chasm.

I feel further from her now than when I was watching her from the corner of that club, pretending she didn’t already own every single part of me.

Her lip trembles, and her whole body's rigid like she's holding everything inside just to keep from shattering into a million pieces right here on our bedroom floor.

“I can't lose you,” she whispers, and the words hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest. “You're the one thing in this world I want.”

I swallow hard. My hand drops to my side. “You’re not going to lose me. I’m here. Forever. I promise.”

It’s not just something I say. It’s the truth.

“There’s no one on Luke’s roster I can’t beat,” I add. “He wants a show. Fine. Let him have one. Let him parade his power around us like it still means something. But tonight? Tonight, I’m taking it back. The control. The narrative. You.” She gulps. “He wanted blood, and he’s about to choke on it.”

The silence stretches between us, thick and heavy with all the things we're not saying, until the jiggle of the front door breaks through the tension.

Madison.

“Hello,” she sings, popping her head through the door. “I’ve got the best costume for Stanley. Let’s just say, he’s going to be the biggest Carolina Catfish Fan this state has ever seen.”

Savannah and I aren't talking or looking at each other. How the fuck can we when we've had to leave everything hanging on such a bitter note?

“Oh, oops. Did I just walk in on something?” Madison points between the two of us, trying to ignore the fact that Stanley is jumping at her feet.

Savannah turns away instinctively, and I shift like nothing happened. “No, we’re fine. Are Dash and Henry downstairs?”

“Yup. Ready and waiting to be your chaperones for the evening. What are you guys doing, anyway?”

“Just going to dinner and staying over at a hotel.”

“Okay,” she drawls out. “Seems a little weird to need two of your teammates to do that, but who am I to judge?”

I walk over to Madison. “Agreed.” I pull her into a tight hug, staying close to her for longer than usual, trying to memorize it… Just in case.

“Uh, Cade?” She pats my back, trying to pull away, but I don’t let her. I just hold on for a little longer. “Clingy much?”

“I love you,” I say against her hair, and I mean it with every fiber of my being.

She stiffens. “Um. Love you too?”

When I let go, she glares at me with furrowed brows. “Everything okay, bro?”

“I’m good. I just wanted you to know that I love you, and I love the fact Dash makes you happy. I hope you two end up together.”

Her cheeks flush at the compliment and she shifts from side to side.

“Cade, you’re freaking me out.”

I shake my head, laughing at the thoughts in my head.

I’ll be fine. This fight isn’t going to be that bad. Luke wants to keep me on the hook. I’m no use dead.

I repeat the mantra in my head, the same lie I've been telling myself for days so I can focus on the right things. Winning this fight. Getting back at Luke. Protecting my family.

And coming home alive.

I let Madison go, forcing a smile as I motion toward the door. My arm brushes Savannah’s as we pass through it.

She doesn’t look at me once.

And I don’t blame her.

Leaning against the window, I watch the passing streetlights blur into streaks of gold as we drive toward what might be the stupidest decision of my life.

No one's talking. There's nothing left to say.

Everyone's already argued with me, told me I'm a fucking fool for doing this, but I’m more determined than ever.

I’m going to take Luke down once and for all.

Savannah is sitting next to me in the back seat, and she's refused to look at me since we left the apartment. Having Madison walk in on another of our fights wasn’t exactly how I pictured our goodbye before the fight going.

If I’m being honest, I would’ve preferred her hands against the mirror while I took her from behind.

It was the only place I hadn’t fucked her after last night’s ‘discussions,’ but alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

Instead, Henry’s behind the wheel, driving us straight to the club where I plan to remind Luke exactly why he wanted me in his corner to begin with.

His fighters think they’ve got the upper hand. They see a guy who traded blood-stained basements for packed arenas and college ice. A pretty face playing puck instead of fists. They’re about to find out how stupid that assumption really is.

Yeah, I’ve been out of the underground circuit for over a year. Doesn’t mean I’ve gone soft. Hell no. Hockey’s just a different kind of war. Faster. Colder. Legal. But at its core? It’s still violence.

Every shoulder check. Every fight in front of the crease. Every time some prick takes a cheap shot at one of my guys, I fight. Just with a helmet and a jersey instead of wrapped knuckles and concrete floors.

I'm not going there to just survive. I'm going there to win, get Luke off Savannah's back, and then destroy him from the inside. This is just the opening move in a game he doesn't even know we're playing yet.

Henry's thumbs drum against the steering wheel as he bops along to some sugary Bailey Hill track. It's light, upbeat, certainly not the type of music I'd usually listen to when I'm trying to get in the zone. But fuck it, maybe I need something different tonight.

“Will you turn that shit down?” Dash grumbles from the passenger seat, reaching over to do it himself.

“S-sorry. I was just trying to lighten the mood since everyone's acting like we're driving to a funeral.”

They start to bicker, but I tune them out. I'm too focused on Savannah, too concerned about the way she's holding herself like she might shatter if she moves wrong.

I reach across the seat and place my hand over hers. When she doesn't pull away, when she actually laces her fingers through mine, my heart clenches. The move was supposed to reassure her, but instead, it anchors me, reminds me what I'm fighting for.

I glance at her out of the corner of my eye and see everything I fell in love with before I ever got the chance to hold her like this.

Her strength, even when she's terrified.

Her defiance, even when she's trying to protect me from myself.

Her loyalty, even when I'm making it impossible for her to stand by me.

She's everything worth fighting for.

“I wish you'd stayed at home with Madison,” I say, my voice low enough for only her to hear.