Page 166 of Breakaway Hearts

“I admire that. But he wasn’t just protecting your secret. I’ve known Owen for years now, and while some of my players might have a temper, the only time that boy ever fights is to protect the people he loves; the men on his team, and you.”

“So you understand.”

“I do. But he asked me specifically not to get him out of this. To let him make amends for what he did. So I am sorry, but unless he tells me to, I won’t plead his case.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.” I sigh.

“But his heart’s in the right place,” he assures me. “As for the NHL, maybe try and convince him not to throw himself on his own sword in his meeting. Gil has three daughters, and I recall him being fiercely protective back in the day.”

“Thank you, Coach.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

While I’m working at the shelter that afternoon, I mentally make a list of all the reasons Owen telling his coach what happened and diminishing his sentence isn’t the same as Trevor getting away with what he did to me. Mainly that he’s not using his privilege to get out of it, he’s using the truth.

As I’m heading out, I see the wall with pictures of people who aren’t allowed on the premises; the ones we should call the police on sight for. It occurs to me that no one outside this building sees them. They don’t know to avoid those people. Even if there’s a restraining order, which means a cop took the threats seriously enough for a judge to issue one…it’s not like that stops them from preying on someone new.

Most of the faces aren’t scary guys I’d avoid. A few of them are mug shots, but there’s a lot that could be used for dating profiles. They look like family men, contestants on the bachelor…a loving mother.

That thought, mixed with my Owen dilemma, gives me a crazy idea…

When I get home, I go straight to my laptop and pull up the article Michaela wasn’t able to run, where I described everything those boys did to me. I make a few tiny edits, add a couple of lines to the ending, and title it When the Cost of Silence Is Too High.

Owen

Practice just ended. Want me to come pick you up?

Me

Come up first.

I wait patiently for Owen, nerves taking over my entire body, but compared to a panic attack, this is easy.

“Is everything okay?” he asks when I let him in. He immediately takes me in his arms, and my nerves don’t all disappear, but I can definitely breathe easier.

“There’s something I want to run by you.” I swallow.

“I’m listening.”

“I wrote an article about what happened to me. The paper refused to run it with Trevor’s name, but I want to publish it myself. On a blog and maybe an Instagram post.”

“No, Maddie, I don’t want you messing up your life to protect me.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?” I point out.

“I’m suspended for beating up another player. It doesn’t matter if he deserved it.” He sighs. “I love hockey, Madison, but if I only get to keep one, I choose you.”

I want to tell him he can’t possibly mean that, but it’s beside the point.

“It’s not just for you,” I say instead. “If I don’t speak up, no one will know. Some girl will date him and think she’s safe, and that’ll be on me. Some girl’s boyfriend will get into Berwick and she won’t know to be afraid when he takes her upstairs. I hate the attention on us right now, but I hate even more that they’ve reduced it to a stupid love triangle, painting him like some jilted hero when he’s a villain. There should be a directory for every guy your friends whisper to warn you about, but in the meantime, I can expose one of them. Or a handful.”

“You sure about this?”

I can see it in his eyes, the fear that he won’t be able to protect me once this gets out.

“I don’t want anyone else to go through what I did, to have no recourse.”

“You’re the bravest person I know,” he tells me.