Page 39 of Off the Ice

I froze, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Someone in management office? Like an admin or HR person?”

“I don't know. I couldn’t get a name—yet—but there’s definitely a tie. Whoever this is, they’ve got their hands in both the league and the betting ring.”

A pit opened in my stomach. This wasn’t just about Darren anymore. This would without a doubt directly affect Logan.

“Jake, keep digging,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “But be careful. If Santoro’s involved...”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, I’m keeping it low-key.”

I hung up and stared out at the rain-soaked city, my thoughts spiraling. A name in management meant this wasn’t just Darren acting alone, it was bigger, messier, and far more dangerous than I’d anticipated. It also meant Logan’s world wasn’t just cracking at the edges; it was at risk of imploding.

***

The night stretched on as I pieced together everything I had, creating a timeline on my wall with sticky notes and printouts. Darren’s bets. Santoro’s payments. The flagged games. And now, the shadowy figure in Hellblades management who might be pulling the strings.

I leaned back in my chair, exhaustion pulling at me as the clock ticked past midnight. My phone buzzed again, and this time, it was Logan. His name lit up the screen, and for a moment, I just stared at it.

Answering meant more than just a casual conversation. It meant opening a door I wasn’t sure I was ready to walk through. But ignoring it wasn’t an option, either.

I swiped to answer, my voice steady,

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Logan said, his tone warm despite the late hour. “You okay? Haven’t heard from you today.”

“Yeah,” I lied, the weight of the folder on my desk feeling heavier than ever. “Just busy with work.”

There was a pause, and I could almost hear him frowning. “Anything I can help with?”

I hesitated, the words dancing on the tip of my tongue.Darren Rivers is tied to a betting scandal, and it could destroy everything.But instead, I said, “No. I’ve got it under control.”

“Alright,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “Don’t forget to breathe, okay?”

I smiled despite myself. “I won’t.”

"Talk to you tomorrow,"

As the call ended, I sat in silence, the weight of everything pressing down on me. I wasn’t just standing at the edge of a story anymore. I was standing at the edge of something that could shatter both our lives.

Twenty Two

Logan

Ileanedbackagainstthe locker, my mind not on the game, but on Ava. It was the fire in her eyes, the sharp way she could cut through my bullshit, the way her voice softened when she thought I wasn’t paying attention.

Damn it.

My body stirred with thoughts I had no business entertaining in the middle of a locker room, surrounded by sweaty teammates and the smell of stale equipment. Shit. I shifted in my seat, pretending to adjust the laces on my skates to cover the sudden heat crawling up my neck.

Focus, Bennett.

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to look around the room. The pre-game hum was in full swing—guys hyping each other up, last-minute gear checks, and Coach’s usual gruff pep talk lingering in the air. It should’ve been comforting, grounding.

Across the room, Darren Rivers sat in his stall, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. His shoulders were hunched, his head down, and his hands fidgeted endlessly with the tape on his stick.

It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed him acting off. Over the past few games, Darren had been quieter than usual, shrinking into the background as much as someone could on a professional hockey team. At first, I chalked it up to rookie nerves. That pressure to perform, to show you belong. It’s easy to mistake silence for focus, especially in this league—hell, half the guys on our roster wear their intensity like armor. But this? This felt different.

He should be lit up with adrenaline. We were on the road, in a tough barn, playing high-stakes hockey—and Darren had earned his spot on this line. This was what we’d trained for, fought for. The kind of moment you dream about when you’re young and the rink lights buzz above your head and your gear still doesn’t fit right. He should’ve been alive out there.

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