Page 284 of Power Play

I leaned closer, and the cold air between us didn’t do a damn thing to cool me down. “That’s worse.”

Her tears came harder. “I’m scared of him.”

“I know,” I said, my voice sharpening.

She went still.

“Yeah.” I nodded once. “Both can be true. I can know he raised you in that house like love was something you had to earn with obedience, and I can still be furious that you let him use that shit on me. I can understand why you froze and still be standing here asking how the fuck you could treat me like that. Let them treat me like that.”

“Ryan,” she whispered.

“No.” I stepped back before the sound of my name in her mouth did what it always did. “No, princesa. You don’t get to soften me. I want to shake reality into your fucking skeleton. Pinche madre, you failed me, and now you’re asking me to be gentle with the explanation?”

She sobbed once, sharp and broken.

I didn’t cave. Not this time.

“I’m not you,” I said. “I’m not. I’m not scared of losing some pretty seat at his table. They don’t like me with you? Then my line is there. Fuck that table. Fuck that house. Fuck every door he thinks he can close. I don’t need any of it.”

Her arms wrapped around her middle.

“My life is simple,” I said, my voice low and brutal now. “Cut and dry. I don’t beg people to keep me. I don’t stand in rooms where I’m not wanted and hope they learn to see me differently. I have never let myself believe I’m safe anywhere long enough to be surprised when I have to move on.”

Her face changed like the words had reached into her and twisted.

“Moving on is nothing to me,” I said. “Nothing. You know why? Because that skill was beaten into me before I was old enough to shave. New house. New school. New bed. New rules. New people pretending they might keep me until they didn’t. I know how to pack a bag. I know how to shut the door. I know how to leave before wanting something could make me weak. That is a skill I perfected.”

“Don’t,” she breathed.

I laughed beneath my breath, empty and cruel. “Now you’re making me prove that skill to you.”

Her hand flew to her chest.

“I’m going to Flint,” I said.

Her eyes widened.

“And if Saturday’s game puts one real offer in front of me, I’m taking whatever gets me the fuck out of Michigan and away from this shit.”

“No.”

“Yes.” I stepped closer again, forcing her to hear every word. “Because if I have to survive walking away from you, then I’m going to do it far enough away that I don’t keep driving past places where I remember what your mouth felt like when you weren’t ashamed of me.”

She cried harder, but I kept going because if I stopped, she’d pull me under with her tears, and I would hate both of us for it.

“I’ll go anywhere,” I said. “Flint. Toledo. Idaho. Some city I’ve never seen with a rink cold enough to numb this out of me. I’ll play for whoever puts paper in front of me. I’ll rebuild because that’s what I do. I survive. I leave. I become someone new before the old hurt has time to rot.”

“You can’t just leave me.”

My smile felt like a wound. “Watch me.”

Her mouth trembled. “Ryan, please.”

“You need to decide something, Charm.” My voice dropped until it was almost calm, and that scared me more than yelling. “Not tonight in the study. Not with him standing there. Not with your mother watching your face like she could shame you back into place. Right now. Here. With me.”

She stared at me, shaking.

“You need to decide if me being your man is something you can survive out loud,” I said. “Because I already know I can survive leaving. I’ve survived worse things.”