Page 140 of ICED
“Morning, princess!” Coach shouts. “Decide to join us?”
Ollie skates to the end of the line, wheezing. “Had to say goodbye in my surrogate daughter.”
Dylan’s mouth drops open. “Did you justclaimLila?”
“She claimedme,” Ollie corrects, sticking out his tongue. “I’m irresistible to almost-four-year-olds and stuffed bunny enthusiasts.”
Murphy slaps him with his glove. “Shut up and skate.”
We run drills for ninety minutes straight. Passing accuracy, net-front battles, two-on-ones with zero mercy. It’s fast and mean and exactly what I need.
After the tension of the last few weeks, after the break-in and the fear and Maya’s story still rattling in my bones, it’s good to sweat it out. To move. To hit.
I don’t think. Ifeel.
Every sharp turn. Every slapshot. Every breath.
It’s only after cool-down that the world creeps back in.
We’re in the locker room, peeling off gear and groaning about early practice, when my phone buzzes.
1 new notification – RaptorsFanForum
At first, I don’t think much of it. I check the fan sites sometimes. Mostly for the memes. Occasionally for gossip about our team’s haircuts.
This one’s under a thread called“Jacko’s new girlfriend?”
My stomach goes cold. I click it open.
There’s a grainy photo, clearly taken from the stands, of Maya and Lila in Raptors merch, holding the GO BEAR sign. Lila’s face is mostly obscured, but Maya’s isn’t.
The message below it is simple. But it hits like a gut punch.
“Cute family. Shame she forgot who they really belong to. I’m coming back. Tell your tough guy to stay out of it if he knows what’s good for him. - J-”
I go still. The noise around me fades.
Murphy’s halfway through a chirp about Dylan’s new shampoo when he notices my face.
“Jacko?”
I don’t answer. I read the message again. And again. Just to make sure I didn’t imagine it. Then I take a screenshot. My hands are shaking.
Dylan frowns. “What’s going on?”
I stand. “I need to talk to Coach.”
“Is it Maya?”
I don’t look up. “Yeah.”
By the time I’m in Coach’s office, the door closed behind me, the rage has gone quiet.
I show him the post. He reads it twice. His jaw tightens. “This from that ex she mentioned?”
“Jamie,” I say. The name feels like ash in my mouth. “I think he’s the one who broke her window and has been tripping the alarm.”
Coach nods slowly. “Okay. We’ll get Daz on it. Get it removed. And I’ll pull the CCTV from the game, in case someone was taking pictures without clearance.”
