Page 4 of Cold Carnage

Ryker’s expression didn’t change, but his gaze flicked back to me, a silent challenge in his eyes. I didn’t blink, forcing myself to hold that icy stare even as my pulse raced. If he wanted to play this game, I could play it too.

The silence stretched thin between us until John Barrett broke it with a gruff cough. “Let’s get down to business,” he said, shuffling through his notes. “We’ve got a lot to cover.”

Reluctantly, Ryker turned his attention back to the agenda in front of him.

As John outlined the training schedule for the upcoming weeks, I took detailed notes, my mind already spinning with ideas on how to improve team dynamics and communication. The murmurs of agreement and occasional nods from around the table bolstered my confidence.

Gideon leaned forward slightly, catching my eye. “Paige,” he said smoothly, “do you have any thoughts on how we can enhance our current strategy?”

I nodded, grateful for the opportunity to speak. “Absolutely,” I began, glancing around the table. “I believe we can start by incorporating more data analytics into our game preparation. By leveraging advanced metrics, we can identify areas where individual players can improve and tailor our training sessions accordingly. I also think it might behoove us to acquire a sports psychologist and do an evaluation of every player just to see where their head is and how we can incorporate assistance if need be. We don’t always understand what’s going on in player personal lives and it’s important we take that into consideration moving forward.”

A few heads nodded in agreement, and I continued with more conviction. “Additionally,” I said, “I propose weintroduce regular team-building exercises off the ice. Building trust and camaraderie among players will translate into better communication during games.”

Ryker furrowed his brow slightly as if weighing my words.

“Those are solid ideas,” Minka said, looking around the room for any dissenters.

“Agreed,” John said after a moment of contemplation. “We need every edge we can get.”

Gideon gave me an approving nod before turning back to the agenda.

The tension in the room began to ease slightly as we delved deeper into discussions about upcoming matches and player evaluations. Each time I spoke up with suggestions or insights, I could feel myself gaining a bit more ground.

But Ryker remained silent for most of it, his eyes occasionally flicking over to me with that same cold scrutiny.

When the meeting finally adjourned, people began gathering their things and filtering out of the room. I lingered in the corridor outside the conference room, trying to shake off the lingering effect of Ryker’s dismissiveness. My first day on the job, and already I’d butted heads with the team captain. This wasn’t how I’d envisioned things going. Not even close.

The polished marble floors seemed to amplify every footstep, every hushed conversation drifting out from the conference room. I leaned against the cool wall, taking a moment to gather myself. The pressure in my chest eased slightly, but the weight of Ryker’s icy stare still pressed down on me.

I glanced up as Gideon Strong stepped out of the room. He caught my eye and offered a nod. “You handled yourself well in there,” he said, his voice low and measured.

“Thanks,” I replied, forcing a smile. “It wasn’t exactly how I wanted things to go.”

Gideon’s gaze softened, just a fraction. “Ryker’s tough on everyone,” he said. “Don’t take it personally.”

Easier said than done. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Gideon gave a small nod and walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more. The corridor felt like it was closing in on me; the walls pressing tighter with every breath.

I needed air.

Pushing away from the wall, I headed toward the exit. The humid Detroit air hit me like a splash of cold water as I stepped outside, taking deep breaths to steady myself. The city’s hustle and bustle surrounded me—cars honking, people chatting on their phones—but it felt distant, almost muted.

I walked along the sidewalk, letting my mind drift over the meeting’s events. Ryker had made it clear he didn’t think much of me or my qualifications, and it was obvious he was still upset with what happened between me and his brother. But I couldn’t let his opinion define me or dictate my actions.

As I turned a corner, lost in thought, a familiar voice cut through my reverie.

“Paige!”

I looked up to see Minka striding toward me, her expression unreadable but determined.

“I wanted to catch you before you left,” she said, falling into step beside me.

“What’s up?” I asked, trying to sound casual despite the knot of tension still coiled in my stomach.

Minka glanced around before speaking again. “I know today was rough,” she said quietly. “But you handled yourself well.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, not quite believing it myself.

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