Rinkmates: A steamy Hockey Romance (The Mates series Book 1)

“We need to talk. Now.” I storm into Grace’s office without knocking.

My voice comes out in a low growl, and I know I look like shit from the sleepless night I had.

Last night, I carried Liora into our apartment, practically begging her to take action against these assholes. But no, she just wanted to keep pushing forward, ignoring the threats against her safety. Aiden was outed without his permission, followed by instances of costume destruction and even a physical attack.

This is too much.

I didn’t sleep at all, my eyes fixed on her chest rising and falling, making sure she was still breathing. Seeing her scream like that was the worst experience of my life and I refuse to let it happen again. These freaks can’t assure me she’s safe? Fine, I already hired her a damn bodyguard. A giant orc, one that she can’t shoo away with her stubbornness. Because protecting her is my top priority now, and I won’t take no for an answer.

That’s why I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her, as soon as weak light finally peeked through the blinds. She was sleeping soundly when I left for the production office, probably knocked out from the heavy pain meds. While I respect and accept her wishes and boundaries, I won’t simply stand by if someone is hurting her.

Grace looks up from her computer. “Mr. Huntington, what—”

“Someone put broken glass in Liora’s skates. She could have been permanently disabled and I’m not going to sit around now. We need to find out who did this, immediately.”

Grace’s eyes widened. “Is she all right? Why didn’t you tell me last night at the show?”

“Because Lia didn’t want me to. And no, she’s not all right. She’s insisting on competing in the finals, injuries be damned.” I start pacing. “This is unacceptable, Grace. I want a full investigation. Interviews, security footage, the works. And I want them prosecuted for assault.”

“Of course, you’re absolutely right,” Grace says, there’s genuine shock on her face and I relax a little. At least she’s ready to cooperate. “I’ll get my team on it right away. Thank you for not blowing this up in the media. The scandal could have ruined our ratings.”

I whirl on her, jaw clenched. Oh sure, the ratings are what she cares about. “I don’t give a shit about your fucking ratings. I care about Lia’s safety and well-being. You better implement rock-solid security protocols going forward, or I’ll pull her out of this circus myself, contract be damned. Are we clear?” I won’t let her be killed on that show, even if she holds a grudge against me for the rest of her life.

Grace swallows and nods. “Crystal. I promise you, we’ll get to the bottom of this. Liora is our top priority.”

“She’s got a bodyguard now. His name is Ivan. Be nice to Ivan,” I say and leave this goddamn place.

The apartment stands in eerie silence as I return; Liora’s nowhere to be seen.

Panic grips my chest, and I call out her name, only to be met with a void of sound. With trembling hands, I dial her number, pacing anxiously as it rings once, twice, three times.

Just as I’m on the verge of losing it, she answers, breathless.

“Hey, what’s up?”

What’s up? Her casual tone hits me like a slap.

“Where are you?” I demand.

“At the rink, training. I told you, I have to be ready for the finals.”

I nearly crush the phone in my grip. “You’re out of your fucking mind, woman! You can barely walk! Your finger is still swollen, and you need to come home and rest, for fuck’s sake.”

She sighs.

She dares to fucking sigh.

I’m losing my mind.

“I can’t, Riley. I have to push through. It’s just two more performances. I can rest later.”NôvelDrama.Org: text © owner.

“Push through? Lia, you could permanently damage your feet! No competition is worth that!”

“You don’t understand.” Her voice wavers. “I have to do this. I don’t care if I don’t ever skate again after this. I need to win. I’m sorry but I’ll be home later, okay? I need to hang up. Sorry, Riley. I’m sorry, okay?”

The line goes dead.

My hands tremble as I glare at the phone.

The sheer audacity of her decision leaves me dumbfounded—how could she willingly subject herself to such torment? Why would anyone do that? For what? For money? What threat is she lying under that she shits on her health? Her life? She could get an infection, nerves could have gotten damaged, she—

A vivid memory invades my mind, replaying the image of Liora’s slender figure, marked by a thin and silvery scar stretching across her lower abdomen. I always assumed it was from an old skating accident, but now a darker suspicion creeps in.

What if…

With a pounding heart, I open Google.

Two excruciating hours later, her key turns in the lock.

Sitting on the couch, I watch as she limps inside and drops her bag heavily on the floor, exhaustion etched on her face, pain evident as she reaches for the painkillers on the kitchen counter with shaking hands.

“Hey,” she says softly when she finally notices me.

“Hey.” My voice is strained. My emotions barely contained, making her look at me with eyes wide like saucers.

“Ri, what’s—”

“I’m not beating around the bush anymore, Lia. I know why you’re pushing yourself so hard out there.”

The water glass freezes midway to her lips.

“That scar on your belly,” I press on gently, “it’s…it’s from a c-section…right? You had a baby.”

The glass slips from her fingers, shattering on impact with the kitchen counter.

I don’t care about the glass, but I soften my tone and walk up to her. “If you’re afraid, I’ll run because you had a kid, I want to make one thing clear: I won’t ever run.” The closer I get, the more she backs up, until I’m only a foot away from her and she crashes into the fridge behind her.

“Have,” she whispers, the words slipping out of her like the creak of a carefully opened door. “I have a kid.”