Page 12 of Born of Ice

Christmas? It’s Christmas already?

“Look at this beautiful arrangement you got! Where shall I put it for you?” she asks but I just turn my head back to the window.

I hear her sigh when I don’t bother with an answer. She puts whatever craptheysent me to make themselves feel better on the far side of the room and leaves as an uninvited tear streaks down my face and a familiar hand is there to wipe it.

I suck in a sharp breath when I turn my head and find Stella standing over me. She must’ve slipped in when the nurse left, or I was simply too out of it to hear the door open.

What is she doing here? I didn’t call her and by the look of it she’s pissed about it. Her lips in a thin line and her eyes sad yet determined.

“I will kick your ass for not calling me right away later,” she says and wipes another tear. “For now, Merry Christmas, my little star.”

“Electra, dinner is ready,” Stella hollers from the kitchen while I’m stuck on the couch, looking at my sparkly legs.

At least these leggings aren’t scratchy anymore. I hadn’t worn them before because the sparkly thread those designer idiots decided to put into stretchy material made me lose my shit, always scratching any time I moved, and the thread scuffedalong my skin. Look at that, now I don’t feel like I wasted three hundred dollars for nothing.

Silver linings, huh?

Stella brought me home two days after Christmas and hasn’t left my side since. Well, she did once and when she came back a few hours later and saw I still hadn’t touched the breakfast she made me or that I hadn’t moved from my spot at the window, she hasn’t left me alone again.

I don’t want to eat. And I don’t want to be anywhere else in this house except by the window. Everywhere else just makes my skin crawl. Everywhere else just reminds me of the last morning I spent here believing my life was about to change.

Hell, it sure has. But instead of the ring on my finger and celebrating New Years with my fiancé, I am in a wheelchair with no wishes to make when the clock hits midnight.

At least he hasn’t shown his face here—or at least hasn’t since I’ve been here. I’ll chuck that into the silver linings too. As well as the satisfaction I felt from taking the knife to those atrocious blown-up pictures of us in the hallway.

Stella was so pleased that I mustered the energy for at least something that she didn’t even complain all that much that all I ate that day was an apple.

“Come on.” She comes over, wheeling me away from the window.

She starts talking about all the procedures and appointments I have scheduled but I tune her out. It’s no offense to her, I simply don’t want to talk. About anything.

They say it gets better with time.

But what if I don’t want it to get better.

What if I’m simply done…

5

Meet Stella Gray

Exton

“Hey, Axe.” My lipcurls up just at the sound of that fucker’s smug voice using my nickname—the one I don't remember allowing him to use.

“Skate away, Zima,” I grit out, but do you think he listens? Of-fucking-course, he doesn’t. He’s a shark that senses blood and wants his kill.

Yanis Zima is the defender for Ice Devils and the biggest asshole in the entire NHL. Hell, I’ll go as far as saying the whole world. And it’s no secret that Florida contracted him for that reason alone.

Out of the corner of my eye—because I refuse to look at him—I see the fake pout he’s pulling. “Are you not happy to see me?”

“I couldn’t care any less about you. Now skate away to your side. I don’t have any desire to deal with your ugly face before I absolutely must.” Which will be in about two minutes when the first period starts.

“Hey, I come in peace.” He raises both his palms up, the hockey stick in between in legs.

“Sure you do.” The fucker doesn’t know the meaning of the word peace. I go back to ignoring him, hoping he gets the memo, but of course, he doesn’t.

“I just wanted to thank you.” He skates around until he’s facing me again, and I see that smug look on his face that immediately makes my teeth grind to dust, but I rein myself in from punching him just yet and lift one eyebrow instead. It’s too early to blow my fuse, even for me.

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