Page 75 of Ice, Love, & Other Penalties

I have to keep my mind off my personal life, even when what he did should be punished—preferably by me. I focus on the game, but there’s a line, and Rossi, with his latest cheap shot on Jenkins, has just crossed it.

I see red, but it’s not just anger—it’s a fierce protectiveness for my team, and my family. Before I fully grasp the decision, I’m skating toward him, my gloves hitting the ice with a thud that echoes my heartbeat. The crowd roars as a backdrop to the inevitable clash.

Rossi turns, a smirk playing on his lips, clearly underestimating the situation. “Looking for trouble, Brynes?” His taunt is a spark to my already blazing fury.

“This isn’t about trouble,” I shoot back, closing the distance. “It’s about respect.” And with that, the gloves are off—quite literally. Our helmets clash.

We trade blows, his helmet comes off and I’m about to punch him when I hear a voice tell me, Don’t fuck this up.

The referees are quick to intervene, their hands working to separate us. But even as they pull us apart, I still want to kill him.

Breathing hard, I glance over at Jenkins, who gives a nod of thanks. But as much as this was for him, it was more so for her. As I’m escorted to the penalty box, the crowd’s mixture of boos and cheers washes over me, but I’m unfazed.

Sitting there, the adrenaline slowly recedes, giving way to a moment of clarity. The penalty minutes tick by, and I have a moment to gather my thoughts. I watch the game from the sidelines. When I come out, the coach and Jude call me to the bench.

“What the fuck was that?” Jude’s voice is loud and angry.

My jaw ticks but I don’t say anything.

“You were looking for blood. That’s not what hockey is all about,” he chides me.

“If you knew, you’d want to help me—and, yes, it was fucking personal.”

His eyes narrow. I make the mistake of glancing over at where Indie sits next to Harper, who is holding her. Shit. I wasn’t thinking.

“What does Rossi have to do with Indie and you?” Jude asks.

“Not my story to tell,” I mumble. “Can I go back to play?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. You’re benched for the rest of the game. I can’t have you go to jail. I’m doing this for Myra and Indie, not for you.”

Chapter Forty-Six

Indigo

Things I didn’t plan to do today: confess what happened with Frederick to my sisters—in the middle of a hockey game. Having to face my brother who is planning his ex-friend’s demise. And of course, now my entire family knows exactly what happened when I was eighteen.

“I’m sorry,” Ty says as we drive toward my house.

“I wish I could say that I don’t understand your actions or that I’m angry about it, but . . .” My voice trails with uncertainty because I don’t know how to finish that sentence. “I was just afraid you’d do something you’d regret and jeopardize your career because of me.”

Does that make me a bad person? I enjoyed seeing the fear in Frederick’s eyes when Ty had his jersey in one hand and was about to punch him hard in the face.

Ty grasps my hand, his calloused thumb caressing my knuckles in a tender gesture. “I would do anything for you, babe. But you’re right, I shouldn’t have lost control like that. Now I have to attend anger management classes and pay a fine to the team.”

“The league fined you too?” I ask, brows furrowing. “Those fights happen often and it stopped before it got too out of hand.”

“No, that was your brother’s doing—to set an example,” Ty grumbles, a muscle twitching along his stubbled jaw. “Though behind closed doors, he told me he appreciated me defending his little sister. However, he and the Quads are taking charge of the situation, whatever that means.”

Gabe, Jude, our cousin Seth, and Piper are known as the Decker Quads. I honestly don’t know what to expect, but probably a visit to Frederick to scare him shitless. Who knows with those four.

“I ruined today,” Ty says remorsefully as we approach my house.

“You didn’t,” I assure him, squeezing his hand.

“I had plans for us. To take you up in a helicopter to Luna Harbor for a romantic overnight getaway—no worries, just the two of us. I wanted it to be perfect.”

I sense his self-recrimination and gently ask, “Why can’t we still do that?”

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