Page 150 of These Wicked Hearts

“You’ve more than done that. Thank you. For now, for the beginning, for the season, at Oli’s wedding. All of it.”

Knox smiles slightly then claps me on the back. “It’s going to be alright. He’ll get through this.”

I nod and say good night.

Knox shuts off the lights, and I attempt to lie down, but sleep won’t come. All I keep playing back are the words he said to me that morning. That lie. I knew it was a lie, and I should’ve listened to my gut.

The guilt is relentless, but this time another thought comes to me. Gage was on that stage because he wanted to fight. He’s not giving up. And neither will I. Whatever mess waits for us in the morning, I’m not giving up.

I won’t give up on him.

THIRTY-FIVE

Atlas

“Where the fuck has this guy been!?”

I startle at the sudden weight of hands shaking my shoulders before realizing it’s just Connor. He laughs, slapping my back hard while the locker room erupts around us like we just won the Stanley Cup instead of a random Thursday night game in December.

I force a smile, but my attention is elsewhere. It’s been that way since Gage’s party on Saturday. My face throbs from a high stick I took in the second period. All I want to do is go home and shower, maybe shut my brain off for a few hours.

It’s been a few days since everything about Riot Heart exploded online.

At first, the internet obsessed over the reveal itself—everyone finally learning the identity behind the masks. The shock of it all. A couple of days after, though, more accusations came forward. More victims. Now there are rumors about a case being built against Jim, and another manager from the label too.

I hope every single one of them burns for what they’ve done.

Still, part of me stays skeptical. I know this industry. Maybe not his, but there have been enough similar situations in our league to know that the bad guys don’t always pay. Unfortunately, most of the time they keep their jobs, or worse, get promotions. Money protects reputations. I know how hard people work to bury things like this.

Through it all I haven’t seen Gage once. Not since he grabbed my hand as I was pulled away from him. I want to go to him, but I’m trying to give him space. He’s probably drowning in questions, lawyers, statements, and reporters. I just want to know if he’s okay. I wish I had Chen’s number at least.

“There he is.” I glance up as Knox drops onto the bench beside me. “You played incredibly tonight.”

“Easy to do when you imagine all your opponents with Jim’s ugly fucking face.”

He gives me a short laugh, gripping my shoulder and squeezing. “You talk to him at all?”

I shake my head, stuffing my shirt into my bag. “No. I want to, but I don’t know. I feel like he’s probably got enough going on right now.”

“This whole thing is insane.” Knox rubs his hand over his jaw. “You were right, though. They really are just a bunch of regular guys.”

Just a group of guys who wanted to make music before someone twisted it into something ugly.

I zip my bag shut. We may have won tonight, but my body feels wrecked. I spent most of my ice time looking for excuses to hit something. Three trips to the penalty box, and honestly, if there’d been more time left on the clock, I probably would’ve earned a fourth.

“You want a ride home?” Knox asks.

“Yeah, uh, just give me a few minutes. I gotta do something first.”

“Sure, I’ll meet you outside.”

He claps my shoulder on the way out.

I wait until he disappears down the hall before slinging my bag over one shoulder and making my way toward the offices. I stop outside one of the partially open doors and peek inside.

Dr. Morales sits behind her desk, reading over something on her laptop. Her dark hair is pulled back in a slicked ponytail, her glasses slightly slipping down her nose as she reads.

I knock softly.