Page 2 of Ice Queen

My mind runs wild with the mention of my contract. There’s actually a chance I could lose my spot on this team? “I…” I push a hand through my hair, tugging slightly at the root. No, this can’t be happening. I can’t lose anyone else. These guys are my family, and their wives are my less-annoying-than-my-actual-sister sisters.

He leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest, and he raises a brow, silently asking me to elaborate. It’s a move he’s done on more than one occasion over the past four years that I’ve played for the Hawks.

I sigh, running a hand down my face, pulling the skin tight as I get closer to my chin. “I’ll handle it,” I grumble.

His brows relax in the middle, and he nods. “Okay, I assume you know where to go if you need help.”

I do. I’ve pulled up Dr. Williams’ phone number a good bit over the past few months, but haven’t had the balls to actually call him. Sighing, I let my head hang in front of me, “Yeah, I’m sorry, Coach.”

His chair squeaks as he stands, but I don’t look up. I can’t, not until his dress shoes come into view when he leans back against the edge of his desk. “I don’t need you to be sorry,” he says, voice laced with sympathy. “I’d be an idiot to think you guys had perfect lives off the ice.”

My eyes raise to meet his, and a small smile slides across his face. “You’re a damn good man, Markus. I need you to get yourself straight. I’d hate for you not to be here next year. And half the team would riot if you weren’t. I don’t need that kind of anger on my plate, you hear me?”

I let out a soft chuckle. He’s right, they would, and I love them for it. “Yeah, got it.”

He gives me a nod and walks back behind his desk, straightening his papers, effectively dismissing me. I stand, feeling both hopeful and like I don’t fully deserve to be here. It freaking sucks to have an off day, especially when your team is doing so well this year, but there’s nothing worse than letting your teammates down. And I’ve done that, epically.

I don’t make it more than two steps before a pair of tattooed arms are thrown around my neck. “You alright?” Lucas Monroe, my teammate and one of my best friends, asks as he squeezes me tight enough that some of the broken pieces slide back into place.

I’d be upset about it, but seeing him go through his shit after losing his mom, it was like looking in a mirror. One where I didn’t even recognize myself, one where I was disgusted over the man I’d become.

“No,” I say, my voice cracking like a teenage boy. “Think I can convince you and your wife to come see Dr. Williams with me?”

His scoff vibrates through me. “Like you don’t know we’d drop everything for you, man.”

Guilt licks at my heels, wrapping around my ankle and threatening to pull me into the metaphorical quicksand I’m standing in. I know they would, but Lettie just popped out their son, Cam, last January. This seems so insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

“I can rough it out myself if it’s too much.” The defeat in my voice makes me cringe, but I keep going. “I know you guys have a lot going on.”

He steps back, clasping both my shoulders in his hands. “If Lettie got wind of this and figured out you just said that, she’d tie you to the stable doors and leave you there for a month.”

A loud laugh bursts from me at the thought. Other than my sister, Lettie is the most no-nonsense, get-to-the-point woman I know. She doesn’t play around when it comes to people she cares about. She’s basically the female version of me, minus the drinking problem.

“Right, well then. We wouldn’t want to wind up in such a situation.” I take a breath, inhaling what little bits of hope I can hang on to, one foot in front of the other. The soft tap of our shoes is the only sound in the hallway until we push out into the night.

Here’s to hoping this helps and stops the runaway train that has become my life.

* Damn it!

* Shit

CHAPTER 1

Markus

Four Months ago

“It’s okay to need a second, Markus.” Dr. Williams’ voice floats through a room I’ve come to both love and hate. It’s been a few months since I first sat down with him, and through many sessions, he decided my trauma would be best worked through in a more intense manner, so here I sit on day one of EMDR therapy.

EMDR therapy, from what I’m told, works to rid trauma from your body. Dr. Williams said the back-and-forth eye movements mimic what happens when you fall into REM sleep. Then, because I’m awake, it’ll give my brain a chance to finally process it, instead of reliving it over and over again. At this point, I’m willing to try anything.

“You have your best friend and her husband with you.” He continues.

“Hey!” Monroe whines from my left as his hand lands on my shoulder in a reassuring pat. “I’m the best friend, Doc.” He squeezes slightly, sending a saccharine smile to our therapist. “She just thinks he’s okay, and only on days that end in Y.”

My chest loosens a bit when he turns his grin in my direction. His wife, Scarlett, who is indeed one of my best friends, rests her hand on my forearm, making the muscle relax beneath it. “Vamos, tú puedes,”⁠* she whispers.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, letting it expand my lungs almost to the point of pain, before letting it out and giving my therapist a tight nod. “Okay.”