Page 17 of Born of Ice

“I am your only chance to get back on the ice.” Her voice is cold and hard enough for my spine to straighten up. She looks and sounds like that one teacher every student fears more than death itself.

“I don’t understand.” I exhale loudly.

“Exton, you are officially benched until further notice. That further notice depends on a condition. And the condition belongs to Stella. If you succeed in your assignment and we getinto the playoffs, we will reconsider your spot on the team but as of now, your contract is on hold.”

“Just so we are all aware here, I play hockey, not participate in STEM! Use normal people language.”

I swear I see her stern expression thaw for just a second and her lips twitch into a smile, but it’s gone as soon as it got there.

“You, my prickly pear, are going to make sure my little star gets back on the ice.”

6

Who the hell is this guy?

Electra

“We are leaving inthe morning.” Stella’s stern command pulls my gaze from the panoramic window where I am once again watching white, fluffy snow slowly dance down from the skies.

“Leaving where?” A little over a month later and I still can’t get used to my own voice. Or shall I say to the new and improved version of it. Empty, detached, emotionless.

It’s the voice of a doll. Fitting…I guess. Because the voice of Elle Monroe doesn’t exist anymore. She’s dead. Buried under a thick layer of unforgiving ice. But at least I’m talking again.

“Home.”

“I am home.”

“No, you are in a mausoleum. And if I spend another night in this psych ward, I just might become like its owner. A fate worse than death if you ask me.” Stella clucks her tongue and goes back to whatever it is she’s doing.

Packing, I’m assuming, since she just said we’re leaving. And where is home if it’s not in my own penthouse. Or well, I guess it’s not really mine. A new little bit of information I’ve learnedin the past couple of days and am still trying to wrap my head around.

The “rightful owner of this place” the only person whose name is on the deed, and as of recently my ex-boyfriend, showed up a week after the New Year andallowedmeto stay here for a little while longer while he is in a training camp with his new partner.

He couldn’t even look at me and I couldn’t hold it in, I went numb at his words and then it was either another panic attack or shock or whatever but when I came to, he was gone and Stella was cursing like a sailor, shoving pills into my hand.

“Is there anything particular you want me to help you pack?”

“No.”

“Costumes?”

“What for?”

“Your medals?”

“Can go into trash.”

“Fine.” She agreed way too fast, which means she’ll pack it all anyway, ignoring what I just said. Why ask me then?

“So, where to?”

“Last time I checked, your ears were working just fine. Just as the rest of your body is,” she adds quietly. “I told you…home.”

Nope, I will not take her bait. I’ve fought and yelled enough in the past two weeks with her.

You see, my old trainer took Dr. Miles’s words about my ability to walk to heart and she won’t let it go. She’s convinced I can, while I’m convinced I won’t. And after I lost it on her, screaming, thrashing, and finishing the show with yet another panic attack she conceded to throwing out subtle hints instead of flat out trying to get me to use my legs again.

And they say I’m in denial…

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