Page 77 of Broken Promises

I won’t see you before you get on the ice. I’m so sorry, baby. The traffic sucks.

I sigh and hang my head. I haven’t seen Willa in a week. Not since the event with Bethany.

Cora is in your jersey. Look how cute she looks!

I smile when a picture of Cora sitting in her car seat wearing my jersey comes through.

She’s going to be my lucky charm tonight.

I’m nervous. The last time we played New York, the team was blatantly targeting me. To the point where Coach considered benching me tonight. He agreed to let me start as long as I didn’t argue if he made the call to pull me. It was the best I was going to get.

I love you. Kick ass tonight, hockey boy.

I love you too, Princess.

“Monroe.”

“Yeah, Coach?” I ask warily. He better not have changed his mind.

“Mr. Sinclair wants to talk to you,” Coach says. His face is stone, and I can’t tell if this is bad or not. Anderson Sinclair owns the Boston Bruisers. If he wants to talk to me right before a game that isn’t even at our home arena, it has to be bad. Right?

“Stop panicking. He didn’t seem mad,” Coach says.

“Did he seem happy?” Martinez asks.

“No.”

“Great,” I mutter. I’m in full uniform, skates included. I stand and look down. “Uh.”

“He’s right outside. Stay dressed.”

“Thanks, Coach.” I take a deep breath and ignore the stares of my suddenly quiet teammates.

Mr. Sinclair is standing right outside the locker room. His arms are crossed over his chest. Anderson Sinclair is a large and intimidating man. He’s my height, in good shape, and smells like money. His black hair is slicked back, and his brown eyes find mine immediately. He’s not much older than I am. He inherited the team from his dad.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Sinclair?” I ask, trying to keep the nerves out of my voice.

“Is your marriage fake?”

My eyes widen at first, but then I get mad. “I’m really sick of that question. I’m sick of everyone questioning if I love my wife or if I’m using her.”

Sinclair’s eyes narrow on me, but then I point to the gold band on his left ring finger.

“How would it make you feel? Knowing you made a single mistake before you even started dating her and that mistake keeps publicly telling people your relationship isn’t real and that you don’t really love her. I’m lucky enough to have a wife that is in the spotlight too and knows it’s absolute bullshit, but I still fucking hate it.” I scrub my hand down my face. “I have loved my wife since I was six years old. My head was up my ass until recently, but it’s on straight now. She is everything to me, and if you’re here to kick me off the team because some spoiled brat isn’t getting what she wants, then go right ahead. I still get to walk away with the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Sinclair smiles. “I just needed to hear it from you.”

I blow out a breath. “Sorry,” I mutter.

“Don’t be. But you should know,” he says, stepping closer to me while looking around, “I know Bethany. Unfortunately, we came in contact a lot growing up. She won’t give up, Declan.”

I sigh and drop my head. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Fuck,” he mutters. I look up to see him looking at his phone. “She’s here. She’s in the owner’s box. My wife just let me know. This isn’t my arena, so I can’t kick her out.”

“Uh, my wife is almost here. What do I do? I don’t want anyone causing a scene. Willa won’t unless she’s provoked, but Bethany is definitely going to provoke her.”

“Where is she sitting?”

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