Page 110 of Captain's Claim

I catch Sophia's eye again and wink. Her responding glare could melt ice.

But underneath the anger, I see something else. Something that makes my chest tight.

Fear.

Don't worry, baby. After today, no one's ever going to question your place here again.

I move through the crowd toward Eli, dodging Connor's attempt to trip me and Logan's elbow jab. The familiar path to the dartboard feels different with every eye in the place locked on me.

Eli grabs the microphone someone's jerry-rigged to the ancient speaker system. The feedback makes half the room wince. Leave it to Eli to turn my carefully planned moment into a circus.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Ridgeview Tavern—home of cheap whiskey, bad decisions, and apparently…" Eli looks to me, brow arched. "…live press conferences now."

A ripple of laughter runs through the crowd. Even Sophia's lips twitch, though she's still giving me that death glare.

I take my place beside Eli, bracing for whatever's coming next. Twenty-plus years of knowing this man has taught me to expect the unexpected, but I trust him more than anything.

"Tonight, we have a special guest: The Icehawks Captain himself, Blake 'Mad Dog' Maddox!"

The whole damn place explodes. Whistles, cheers, and apparently now, a stupid "Mad Dog" chant that Connor starts in from the corner booth.

Mad-dog! Mad-dog! Mad-dog!

I shoot Eli my best captain's glare. The one that makes rookies skate extra laps and reporters rethink their questions.

"Mad Dog?" I grunt. "Seriously?"

Eli just grins, that same shit-eating grin he wore the day he caught me stealing pucks from the practice rink when I was twelve.

The bastard's enjoying this. Some favor.

In front of me, I catch Sophia hiding a smile behind her coffee cup. At least someone's finding this funny.

Eli's voice softens as he leans into the mic. "Some of you old-timers like me might remember a scrawny kid who used to hang around the rink. Angry. Lost. Looking for trouble." He catches my eye. "Well, that kid became our captain."

The room goes quiet. Even Connor stops his stupid chanting.

"Back then, that kid spent more time cleaning the rink than playing on it." Eli's gravelly laugh echoes through the mic. "But he had heart. Showed up every morning at five, scraped the ice until his hands bled. All for a chance to skate later on that day."

I catch Sophia's gaze across the room. She swallows so hard I see it.

"You should've seen him back then." Eli gestures toward me. "Skinny as a rail but hungry. Not just for food, though Lord knows he cleaned out my kitchen often enough. But he was hungry for hockey. For something bigger than himself."

The reporters lean forward, pens poised. This is the story they've been chasing for years, but I've never let anyone tell it. Until now.

"That determination, that grit - it made him the man you see today. Your captain. Your Mad Dog." Eli pauses, and looks at me with a teasing glint in his eye. Asshole. "But in all these years, I've never seen him as determined as he is right now. And folks, I don't think it has anything to do with hockey."

My chest tightens as Eli's words land.

He's right.

For the first time in my life, something matters more than the game.

My hands are sweating as Eli steps back, passing me the mic.

This is it. Everything I've spent years protecting, everything I've hidden - I'm about to lay it all bare.

I grip the mic tight. "Yeah, um… hello. Welcome."

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