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My body relaxed as I stepped into my childhood home. There was a time I started to hate this small house, but now it grounded me in a way only home could.
I'd left Haven's Crossing behind to escape the small-town life. Now I was running back to save myself from a life of hell.
Life was strange but I'd never been more grateful to be alive.
ChapterTwo
Tate
Two weeks later
It had been two weeks and I still hadn't been able to shake that night from my memory. The destruction was something I'd seen before and the moment I saw it, I knew I shouldn't have gone.
Memories of my own father floated back to the surface and haunted me in a way they hadn't in years.
"Focus, Sanchez!" Coach screamed, his whistle echoing in the rink. Cold bit at my face and through my gear. I focused on the sting of it, using it to anchor me.
When he finally relented and called for a break, I practically fell onto the bench.
"What's wrong?" Brock asked as he dropped down next to me, drinking his water without breaking eye contact. My best friend was a dick and refused to let me not talk about things.
Even the hard shit.
"Not here," I muttered and he nodded once. The promise in his eyes said he'd just demand answers when we went back to our apartment. There was no escaping to my bedroom and shutting out the world. Not anymore.
"That was absolute shit," Elias groaned as he joined us. "My fucking body hurts."
"I'd apologize for body checking you but I'm not sorry," Brock grinned.
"Dick," Elias said, flipping him the middle finger.
We'd barely had time to breathe before Coach Slade was yelling for us to get our asses back out on the ice.
He was relentless, but an amazing man. That much was proven to be true after our rescue mission for his daughter.
The one with gorgeous curves I couldn't get out of my head. She was off limits and I damn well knew it.
Slade would kill me himself, plus I didn’t know what that would mean for me and Brock.
Brock stopped before I could put my gear back in place, leaning his forehead into mine.
"Take a breath and center yourself. On the ice, it's just you, us, and the puck. Got it?"
"Yeah, Captain," I said, meaning it this time.
As I skated back out onto the ice I locked the shitty memories of my past in the back of my mind where they belonged. I wasn't that kid anymore and I needed to let it go. I'd call my therapist later but for now, it was time to impress the coach.
My skates glided over the ice, eyes zoned in on the goal. Our rink wasn't as glorious as the NHL or even one of the other bigger leagues. We were local, the ones a bit too old to be landing careers that would last. That didn't bother me in the least.
This rink, the ice, and the team were my happy place.
When the final whistle rang out and we filed off the ice, it was in a much better headspace.
Until she was there.
Macy had bubblegum-pink hair and a shy smile, handing out towels to each of us as we moved toward the locker room. She didn't say a word, simply handing out the last one and disappearing, but I wasn't the only one who watched her walk away.
Fuck, she was the forbidden fruit I couldn't wait to sink my teeth into.
