Page 5

Blake was fucked.

Royally. Proverbially. Every which way, fucked.

The second he entered the general manager’s office and saw the trio stationed behind the desk – Coach, the GM and the pretty PR chick – he’d known.

No one smiled. No one spoke. He took a seat.

To his left, the big screen playing the NHL Network had been muted. To his right, the glass gave a bird’s-eye view of the practice rink, and to his rear was the door. The exit through which he wanted to bolt.

He’d never been great at taking a beating lying down – physically or verbally.

Even when he’d earned it.

‘You’re out of lives, Carter.’

Blake eyed the GM, his clean-shaven face, designer suit and perfect hair irritating the crap out of him. The guy was money through and through. Daddy’s money to be precise.

‘With respect, Walker…’

Coach winced. PR chick sucked in a breath.

And the GM cocked an unimpressed brow. But Blake couldn’t care less.

He wasn’t about to address the GM with some ass-kissing title.

Not when the man had yet to earn it. He’d been gifted the role by his billionaire father, the Titans owner, a year ago.

And so far he’d failed to demonstrate any passion for the sport; it was all about him and his appeal to the masses. Not the team.

‘With respect,’ Blake repeated through his teeth, ‘it wasn’t me being stretchered off the ice.’

Coach’s eyes shot daggers across the table, screaming at him to shut the hell up as Blake’s head advised the same. Problem was his mouth liked getting him into trouble and his fists were too quick to follow. But then he’d never been great with words. Doing was more his style.

Just like dear old Dad…

Though Blake didn’t prey on the innocent, the weak, the vulnerable, like the old man had.

‘And what about the brawl that came after the game?’ the PR chick, Stella, clarified, her blue eyes narrowing as she glanced at the tablet in her hand. ‘The one you got into outside McGinty’s?’

She glanced back up, tucking her smooth blonde bob behind her ear as she pinned him with her cool gaze. A fortnight ago, that gaze had been on fire for him. Today however…

‘Someone takes a swing for me, I’m going to swing right back.’

‘Even when you’re taking a detrimental swing at the Titans every time you do it?’

Blake ground his teeth. ‘The guy took a detrimental swing at the Titans first.’

Or more specifically, his teammate Danny and his husband, Ross. Coming out in this business took serious courage. And witnessing the abuse…

Danny and Ross had seen fit to ignore it and walk away, but Blake had seen red. Truth was he could take people flinging shit at him, but when it was about his family or his buddies, and when it was as vile as…

He clenched his fists, shooting down the memory and the anger it evoked.

‘You’re not in the playground any more,’ Coach said.

‘The problem is a lot of people seem to like taking a swing for you,’ the GM spoke over him.

Blake shrugged. ‘Comes with the territory.’

‘For you, a lot more than most. Your fiery nature is a problem,’ Stella said, a hint of colour in her cheeks now.

Was her head back in the club, recalling what he’d done to her up against the alley wall, what she’d done to him in turn?

She hadn’t been complaining about ‘his nature’ then.

‘Twenty years ago, it wouldn’t have been an issue, you’d be our enforcer, and we’d make no bones about it, but now… the rules are changing.’

‘The rules have changed,’ the GM added.

And officially, he was right. But unofficially, everyone knew it paid to be a hard ass both on and off the ice. And intimidating the opposition was as much a psychological mind game as it was a physical play.

If people feared dancing with you before the puck dropped, the advantage was yours for the taking.

‘When your behaviour has you in the box more than you’re out of it, something’s gotta give,’ the GM said. ‘ You’ve got to give.’

Blake frowned. What the hell was the schmuck on about? Give? Like, back down? Wave the white flag? Skate out of the brawl, not in? Was he crazy ? He was nicknamed Fury for a reason…

‘You want to stay on the team, you need to change.’

Stay on the team…?

Blake’s gut rolled, his skin shrinking until it felt too small for his body. He scanned the trio across the table. Were they serious? Did they not realise his team needed him like this? That this was what he was good at?

Sure, he had skills. Gone were the days where enforcers got a full-time position on the team. But still…

‘Coach?’ He settled his sights on the man for back-up because if anyone was going to give it, it was him. ‘Come on, Fury isn’t just a name, it’s who I am for the sake of our team.’

‘The doc thinks you would benefit from seeing Lisa.’

Not what he wanted Coach to say. And Lisa? Who the hell was?—

Wait .

‘The shrink ?’

‘Lisa is a sports psychologist,’ Stella said smoothly, ‘she’ll help you get?—’

‘I don’t need no shrink.’

Sports psychologist or not, Lisa was most definitely a shrink.

And hell, he wanted no one poking around up top. His demons were just that. His. No one else’s business but his own.

‘Your brother seems to think it might help.’

‘ Aiden ? Aiden said that? When?’

They had to be kidding him. Aiden was his teammate, his brother both on and off the ice. What the fuck was he playing at? Talking about him behind his back. Feeding this drama. This crazy ass idea.

‘I wouldn’t look so angry about it,’ Stella said in that same smooth tone that was beginning to grate. ‘He’s trying to do you favour and dig you out of the hole you’ve found yourself in. You’d do well to take a leaf out of his book.’

Words he’d heard on repeat his entire bloody life. He hadn’t listened then, he wasn’t about to now.

‘I don’t need my brother digging me out of anything. As for taking a leaf, we work because we’re yin and yang. He’s Ice. I’m Fury. It’s what our fans love. It’s what the team needs. And it’s what the franchise has exploited well enough up until now so I fail to see the problem.’

‘ That we can’t exploit.’ She pointed to the TV where a replay of last week’s match against the Rangers was underway, overlaid by a static shot of him outside McGinty’s – the bar he and his buddies favoured when they wanted to avoid the puck bunny circuit.

A bar he wouldn’t be able to return to any time soon thanks to this shot that had gone viral.

Even in the dim light being cast by the pub window, his side profile was easily recognisable. The aggression on his face too as he pinned the scumbag to the wall by the scruff of his judgemental neck. The guy had deserved it, running his mouth off like that.

And he’d drawn the first punch, not Blake.

Though saying as much wasn’t going to help him now. Nor was the suspicion that the guy had set him up. He’d been looking for him to do just this.

If you’d been more like Aiden, you’d have taken a second and realised it in the moment too…

Rolling his head on his shoulders, he stretched out his fingers and took a breath. ‘Look, I know?—’

‘This isn’t open to debate, Carter,’ the GM cut in. ‘From now on, we say jump, you say how high.’

Blake’s eyes snapped to his, the fire reigniting – how not to help.

The GM shrank back in his seat, eyes lowering as he cleared his throat and adjusted his tie.

‘What we’re saying is,’ Coach hurried out, drawing Blake’s laser-focused gaze his way, ‘go and see Lisa. Talk. Work out what’s going on up there and calm it down out there.

’ He pointed from Blake’s head to the glass.

‘You know you’re good, Blake. You and your brother, you’re our all-stars.

The best pair of forwards the Titans have ever seen, but that temper, it needs reining in before it costs you everything. You and your brother.’

Blake stiffened. Low blow, Coach .

‘And while you go about fixing your behaviour, we’ll go about fixing your image,’ Stella added.

‘Fixing my image?’ he sneered. ‘And how do you plan on doing that, because as we’ve already established, I’m not my brother. I’m not about to whore myself to the sponsors and pose shirtless with some lousy energy drink to keep the media happy and the dogs at bay.’

That was Aiden’s bag. Being the face of whatever paid to top up his brother’s nest egg and Blake wasn’t about to judge him for it. But he wasn’t about to join him either. Never in a million years.

Aiden was the pretty boy. Blake was… how had Stella put it just the other night, the diamond in the rough. He preferred asshole. Blunt and honest. Why try to dress it up?

‘The sooner people see you in a different light, the sooner the league will ease off,’ Stella said, looking past him to the door and waving someone in.

It had to be Aiden, coming to join the force against him. He turned, ready to give him a piece of his mind and – and lost his tongue.

‘Welcome, Astrid,’ Stacey said, giving a name to the dark-haired voice-stealing woman stepping in.

Who was this ? And how soon could he get acquainted?

Because this was the kind of woman he wouldn’t mind going one on one with.

Dressed in a black skirt suit that flaunted every curve, a hell of a lotta leg, and stilettos that made a man think of only one thing…

It was her sleek no-nonsense ponytail and black-rimmed glasses that told him she was here for business and not the fun he had racing through his mind.

Though her don’t-mess-with-me vibe instantly made him wanna do just that.

Her eyes found his and a bolt shot through him. Holy mother of…

It was working its way through her too if the subtle parting of her pink lips was anything to go by.

‘I’m so glad you could make it,’ Stella said, calling those eyes back to her and he found himself craving their return.

‘Astrid?’ He pushed out of his chair to welcome her properly. The name suited her. Especially her eyes – the colour of rich honey, cosmic and divine – as they gave him the quick once-over before dashing back to Stella, slashes of pink appearing in her creamy cheeks.