Page 110 of Major Penalty

His face twists, contorted with emotion—conflict, anger, something too big to name.

“I see him as myson!” he snaps, his voice carrying above the roaring fans and the music.

For a few moments, we just stare at each other while the walls around us shake from the bass coming from the buzzing arena.

“I see him as a son,” he says again, softer this time, but no less shattered. “And my son cannot…do this with my daughter. It’s not right.”

The words slam into me like ice water down my spine.

“Do you really?” I ask, my voice small. “Do you really see him as a son?”

He stares at me like he doesn't understand what I'm asking.

“Because right now, you’re treating him like a stray dog.One you fed once, gave a warm place to sleep for the night, and then shoved into a dog-fighting ring so he could bleed for you. A stray dog worth feeding but not worth being part of your family.”

His mouth opens. Closes. No words.

“Is that how you see him?” I ask again, this time louder. “A stray? Something to tame, but not love?” My chest rises and falls in sharp, ragged breaths. “Yes, you made time for him, gave him hope,” I whisper, “but then you hide him from the people that matter most in your life. You don’t get to be the reason he believes in trust and be the one who doesn’t give that trust back.”

His eyes are glassy now, his mouth parted, stunned.

“Do you know how many times people have done that to him?” I ask, tears burning at the back of my throat, remembering the story Ares told me. “Given him hope, a place to belong, and then turned their backs?”

I step even closer.

“If that’s what you’re planning to do, if you’re going to turn your back on him now because we found each other and you don’t like it, then I’ve had the wrong role model my entire life.”

He doesn’t say anything; he just stands there, staring at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. His jaw works, clenched and conflicted. His chest rises and falls in sharp, uneven breaths. And behind him, the arena explodes. Music. Lights. Game 7 of the first round. Playoffs.

It’s time.

I take one shaky breath and meet his eyes.

“Go,” I whisper. “They’re waiting for you.”

He still doesn’t move. The crowd chants. The announcer’s voice echoes through the hallway, calling the coaches to the tunnel. My father’s fists clench at his sides as he looks at me again, really looks. And I can tell, I’ve left something with him. Good. He needs to think about this.

He turns his head toward the arena, before turning back to me, still speechless.

“It’s okay,” I murmur. “Go do what you do best.”

Then, I turn. I don’t wait to see if he follows.

I walk away, shoes clicking against the tiles, the roar of the arena pulsing through my blood.

I love my father. And I know he loves Ares; he just hasn’t looked at him through this lens yet. But he has a whole game to think about it.

And I have a surprise to plan for the man I’m not hiding anymore.

Chapter twenty-four

~ARES~

The rink is alive with energy, the roar of the crowd thundering through the stadium like an endless wave. The bright lights reflect off the ice, blinding me for a second as I step onto the freshly shaved surface. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife. The weight of it is all-consuming. I’ve been itching to get back on the ice, but with everything that just happened…I have no idea what awaits me as soon as I step off it.

Brown gathers the players at the bench, his voice booming as he outlines the plan, barking out the lines for the starting shift.

“First line—DiMarco, Black, and Colton.”

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