Page 11 of Break my Heart

“They’d get into trouble without it,” I add when it looks like she’ll argue. “You don’t need that stress.”

She nods as wetness gathers in her eyes. “Oh, Hayes…” She sniffs, trying to hold it together. “I know I don’t say it enough, but I’m so grateful for everything you do.”

Thick emotion clogs my throat. “You don’t need to thank me. We’re family. We only have each other to lean on.”

“Your father would be proud of the man you’ve become.”

We sit in silence until she dries her tears. Only then do I glance at my phone, knowing I need to get back to school. I still have a pile of work to do before calling it a day. Sometimes it feels like the grind never stops.

I jerk a thumb toward their bedrooms. “I’ll say goodbye to the kids and then take off.”

She swipes at red-rimmed eyes before rising to her feet as I do the same.

Her fingers trail over the thick wad of bills. “That’s a lot of cash.” She picks it up before flicking a concerned glance my way. “I’m almost afraid to ask how you’re making this much money.”

I force a smile and keep my tone light. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing illegal.”

Her teeth scrape against her lower lip before chewing it. “I really hope not. The last thing I want is for you to jeopardize your future.”

I press a gentle kiss against her forehead. “You know I’d never do that. The NHL is our ticket to a better life.”

Some of the tension drains from her thin shoulders. “Good.”

I spend the next twenty minutes watching stupid videos online with my brothers and then read Kia her favorite book about a hound dog named Charlie before walking out of the house.

As I head back to school, I think about how different our lives will be a year from now. We’ll have more money than we know what to do with. It’ll be falling out of our asses. Mom won’t have to worry or put in extra hours so she can make ends meet.

All the shit we’ve had to go through will be nothing more than an ugly, distant memory.

It’s what keeps me motivated and focused on the things that matter.

My family.

Hockey.

School.

In that order.

And there isn’t room for anything else.

5

Ava

At this hour in the morning, the rink is deserted. The hum of the Zamboni has long since faded, leaving behind a flawless, glass-like surface. Fresh ice, untouched and perfect.

Is there anything better?

I draw in a deep breath and hold it captive, savoring the chilly air that fills my lungs. For just a moment, I allow the tension in my body to melt away before exhaling. And then my blades are carving a steady rhythm as I ease into my warmup. Each glide sends a satisfying hiss through the silent arena as my breath comes out in little clouds before dissipating in the chilled air.

I move into some crossovers, feeling the familiar burn in my thighs as I pick up speed. Everything from the past year that normally eats away at me fades to the background, leaving nothingness in its place.

Once warmed up, I glide to the center of the ice and take my starting position. With my knees slightly bent and arms poised, I focus on the music in my head. It’s a piece I’ve practiced more than a thousand times. I visualize each note, each synchronized movement, then I begin.

The first few moves are smooth and flowing, a series of elegant spirals that show off both my control and grace. I transition into a camel spin, extending my free leg behind me and holding my position steady as the centrifugal force pulls at my body. Only then do I exit the spin with a flick of my toe pick and push into a series of intricate footwork.

My focus narrows as I approach a triple lutz. I dig my toe pick into the ice and launch myself into the air, rotating quickly. My heart stutters as my blades touch down in a perfect landing.

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