Page 100 of Fractured Faceoff

Barrett grunted, clearly weighing the implications of what I’d just confessed. “I suppose I understand why you did it,” he finally said. “I probably would’ve done the same thing if it were my girl.” His words hung in the air, almost surreal.

“Are you married, sir?” I asked, genuinely curious.

He shook his head slowly, lips quirking into a smirk.

“Don’t believe in it?”

“I haven’t found the right one, I suppose.” He leaned forward slightly, eyes still locked onto mine. “But you should tread carefully with this one.”

I sat back in my chair, digesting his words and the weight behind them. The tension between us shifted as we both recognized something deeper than just hockey or rivalry; it was about loyalty and trust—something I'd always craved but struggled to define.

I nodded, feeling the weight of Barrett’s gaze. “I hope I can expect that you'll fight for your team the way you fight for her.”

“Sir,” I replied, the conviction in my voice unwavering. “She comes first. But after her, yes. With every fiberof my being.”

He leaned back in his chair, contemplating my words as if weighing them against some invisible scale.

“Even Cole?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Even him,” I affirmed, the bitterness of Weston’s past lingering like a shadow but no longer stifling me.

He studied me for another long moment, then a satisfied nod broke his stern expression. “I’m glad we have you, son.” His tone softened slightly as he dismissed me with a wave of his hand.

I gathered my gear from the locker and headed out into the buzzing arena, the faint scent of sweat and ice filling the air. The familiar chaos of teammates joking and bickering faded behind me as I stepped into the corridor leading to the admin building. My mind drifted back to Isla and everything that had changed between us—what it meant to stand up for something real.

As I rounded a corner, I nearly collided with Nikolai Volkov. His imposing frame blocked my path like a brick wall.

“Crowder,” he said, voice low and rough like gravel underfoot. He wore that ever-present smirk that could easily turn to a scowl in seconds.

“What’s up?” I shifted my bag on my shoulder, bracing myself for whatever jibe he had in store.

“You seem different.” He squinted at me, assessing what lay beneath the surface. “More... alive?”

“Just focused,” I replied tersely, irritation bubbling under my skin at his scrutiny. “You?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall casually. “Getting prepared.” His tone held an edge that suggested he wasn’t just here to chat about game strategies. "We play Boston tomorrow. I always like playing Boston."

“Boston's always been dirty,” I said, keeping my tone flat as we stood toe-to-toe in this odd standoff.

“Yes.” He smirked. "I like playing the game by their rules. I'm better at it."

"I suppose it wouldn't have anything to do with Petrov being on the team?" I asked.

Nikolai leaned forward. "You're a very clever man." He clapped me on the back. "Your woman waits for you. I think she misses you."

I said nothing as Nikolai walked away. It was hard to get a read on him, considering the rumors that floated around him.Murderer. Violent criminal. Dangerous.Just because he came from some shady small town didn't mean anything. But there was power in the kid, that was for sure.

I shook my head as I walked down the corridor, trying to shake off the weight of Nikolai's words. He could be a pain, but he wasn't wrong about one thing: I needed to see Isla. I wanted to tell her how I felt, to lay it all out there and let the pieces fall where they may. If she didn’t want anything to do with me after that, I’d accept it. Or at least I’d try.

As I approached her office, my heart raced. The walls around me felt too close, like they were pressing in on my resolve. With a deep breath, I paused outside her door, poised and ready to knock. But before my knuckles could connect with the wood, the door swung open abruptly.

Isla nearly bumped into me, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Jared?” she asked, a hint of confusion dancing in her voice.

I nodded, swallowing hard as nerves twisted in my stomach.

“What are you doing here?” Shebrushed a strand of hair behind her ear, an unconscious gesture that sent warmth through me.

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