"Who?"
She points. "Coach Savard."
My whole body recalibrates in an instant. I look at the man again, this time really seeing him. Golden hair, just slightly silvering at the temples. Athletic build, easy posture, practiced confidence. He's leaningon the boards, smiling at one of his students, his hand resting on her shoulder.
The girl can't be older than twelve.
Oh fuck no. He’s doing the same shit right here in front of me? Every cell in my body ignites. My hands are already fists and my jaw locks so tight that my teeth ache. I start to move toward him and Mollie grabs my arm.
"Alex. Don't."
I can barely hear her over the roar in my skull. My eyes won’t leave him.
This is the man who destroyed her. Who isolated her from everyone, who put his hands on a teenager, who let her shatter on the ice at Nationals twenty minutes after she tried to tell him no. He's standing in my fucking rink.
He seems unaware that his name is trending on TikTok right now because my girl just burned his career to the ground. My eyes dart to the girls. Where are their parents? Do they not have phones?
Mollie looks at me. Her eyes are both damp and fierce. "Not in front of them. Please."
I stay because she's asking me to. My fist throbs with the need to connect with Savard's face, but I stay.
Savard hasn't noticed us yet. He steps off the mats and walks along the boards, correcting one girl’s arm position, murmuring something close to her ear. The familiarity of the gesture makes my stomach lurch. His hand lingers on her back. She beams up at him.
Then he turns and sees Mollie.
His expression cycles through surprise, recognition, and then something that makes my blood pressure spike to dangerous levels. He smiles. He actually fucking smiles at her, warm and easy, like they're old friends at a reunion. He has no idea what she did this morning. He has no idea that his world is already over. He’s playing it cool.
I’m going to kill the motherfucker.
"Mollie." He skates over, carefree. "Chérie.What are you doing here?"
His arms open, suggesting that he expects a hug. But Mollie doesn't move. She doesn't smile. She stares at him with a forbidding expression.
"I see you've made a new friend." Savard turns back to Mollie, his tone shifting to something oilier. "The captain of the Seattle Havoc? Figures you’ve been hanging around, trying to win his attention. Your brother always was the magnetic one of the two of you."
"You shouldn’t even be here." Mollie's voice is low and steady. "Don't you have the internet?"
A look of confusion crosses Savard’s face. No, I guess he doesn't have any friends or business associates that would warn him if his name was being smeared. That makes me happy.
"I'm simply happy to see my former student." He spreads his hands, all innocence. "You look well. Skating again, I see. Though I have to say, your form has suffered. You always needed someone to keep you sharp."
"I told the world what you did to me." Mollie’s voice is eerily flat and quiet. "I’m surprised you haven’t already heard the news."
Savard's jaw tightens for a fraction of a second before his composure slides back into place.
"I don't know what you mean,chérie.I didn't do anything to you. And you telling anyone that I did would be a lawsuit waiting to happen." He tilts his head and his voice drops. "You were always so dramatic. Everything I did was to help your career. And you repaid me by falling apart on the biggest stage of your life."
My vision narrows. Mollie's hand is still on my arm and I can feel her fingers digging in, holding me in place.
"I already filed a complaint with the Federation," Mollie says. Her voice is steady in a way that I recognize from this morning, the same steel she found when speaking on camera. "If you were wise, you’d leave before word travels to those girls’ parents."
That lands. His composure cracks for a real second, long enough that I see what's underneath the oily charm.
He looks at me again. Then back at Mollie. Then at the space between us, the proximity, the way her body angles toward mine. He reads it correctly and his lip curls.
"Oh, I see how it is." He laughs and it's an ugly sound. "You two aren’t just hanging out. You'refuckinga hockey player now. That's cute." He takes astep closer and looks me in the eye. "Surely you can do better, hmm?”
The first punch breaks his nose.
