Page 84 of Dirty As Puck
I rest my head in my hands, letting the noise of the arena wash over me. The team loses point after point. I don’t cheer. I don’t curse and I barely breathe.
Rock bottom isn’t just drastic. It’s quiet, crushing, and unavoidable.
I stare at the ice, empty, helpless, and feeling the world I’ve built unravel beneath me.
I kneel in front of my locker, pulling jerseys and pads from the shelves, stacking them, as if organizing them can somehow fix the chaos inside my head.
Every motion feels detached. The sound of lockers clanging and distant chatter from the remaining staff is a dull hum against the storm inside me.
Jake crouches beside me without a word, letting me be at first.
Finally, he speaks, low and firm. “Kai… don’t let that bastard win. Derek, right? He planned this. Every bit of it. He’s trying to destroy you. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
I stiffen, gripping a helmet so tightly that the plastic digs into my palms. He’s right, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Derek didn’t just ruin a few games or embarrass me.
He pulled every string he could find, twisting my life, and manipulating people I care about. He manipulated the one person I trust. And somehow… I feel like I was a pawn too, even if I wasn’t supposed to know it.
“I… I don’t even know anymore,” I mutter, voice rough. The words taste like defeat. I’m filled with anger and despair, both battling inside me but neither wins. I’m just raw, empty, and hollow inside.
Jake puts a hand on my shoulder. “Start with what you can control, man. Don’t let him decide your life. He wants this chaos, so he can see you fall apart. But you…” He hesitates, squeezing my shoulder. “You’re stronger than he thinks. Don’t hand him this victory.”
I nod weakly, knowing that he’s right. Tommy’s right too, but knowing and feeling are two separate things. All of this wasmeant to break me. I can’t pretend I’m unaffected. I can’t pretend that I’m okay when I’m clearly not.
I rise slowly, my locker cleared and my heart pounding. The only place I can think to go, the only place that ever gave me guidance when life felt impossible, is my foster father’s grave.
The streets are quiet as I drive through them, every red light testing my patience, every turn bringing me closer to the place that shaped who I am.
I park and step out, the cool evening air hitting me like a jolt. The headstone is ahead, simple and steady. I kneel, hands gripping the stone.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper, voice cracking. “I need your guidance. I need… something.”
I close my eyes, breathing in the silence, the memory of lessons he gave me, the strength he instilled. For the first time in days, I allow myself to hope that I can find a way through this, hope that I can fight back, and hope that I can protect the people I love from the chaos Derek created.
33
My apartment is quiet except for the clicking of my laptop keyboard and the rustle of papers. I’ve been cross-referencing documents for hours, trying to connect every thread of Derek’s manipulation, when my phone suddenly rings on the table.
I glance down and see an unfamiliar number. Something tells me to answer immediately.
“Hello?” My voice is wary, cautious.
“Rochelle Winters?” The voice is smooth, deliberate, but there’s an edge of urgency. “This is Kennedy Walters. I think we need to talk about Derek Delaunay.”
My stomach drops. I know that name. She’s Senator Walter’s daughter. From that same night the bar fight happened. My pulse spikes, and I quickly grab a notebook, pen flicked open.
“Yeah, I remember you from the bar fight,” I say carefully. “What do you know?”
Kennedy hesitates, then takes a deep breath. “He paid that man to attack me. He knew Kai would intervene. He set it all up, knowing exactly how it would play out.”
I freeze. Every piece of speculation, every rumor, every half-formed theory I had about that night suddenly clicks into place.
Derek wasn’t sloppy, he planned it. He calculated it to manipulate Kai, to make him look reckless, to give Marcus the dirt he wanted.
“I have… proof,” Kennedy continues, urgency threading through her words. “I kept emails, texts, and payment receipts. I have witnesses who saw the exchange. I can provide testimony.”
Relief hits me, sharp, immediate, and mixed with disbelief. For the first time since Derek destroyed our lives, I feel a crack of hope. Someone else saw what happened. Someone else can corroborate Kai’s side.
“Kennedy, this could change everything,” I say, my voice shaking slightly. “If you’re willing, I need every bit of evidence, every detail. This isn’t just about clearing Kai’s name. It’s about exposing Derek.”
