Chapter 24

The Cobras’ win over the Islanders had been brutal but, most importantly, the game was coming back to home ice. Hopefully to eliminate New York and carry on to the second round.

In the three-day break from the last game, Sahara had enjoyed helping Dominik settle Heath and his siblings into their new home. New furniture had been delivered for Kimber, and several of the Cobras had spent the day painting the office Dominik had given up for her bedroom. Sahara could tell Dominik wasn’t a fan of the dark red shade Kimber had chosen, but he was damn good at assuring the teen felt comfortable making the room into her own little sanctuary.

For the moment, Heath was sharing a room with his little brother, but when Dominik wasn’t training or spending time with the kids, he was busy house shopping. Both nights since they’d gotten back to Dartmouth, he’d tucked the little ones in with Sahara, then sat up with her in his bed, asking her opinion of houses he’d found online.

He’d made his intentions very clear.

“I’m thinking we’ll move in August. That gives the kids time to settle in before school starts. And you and I won’t seem like we’re rushing into living together.”

“But you want me to help choose the house, so you’re assuming we will be living together?” She couldn’t help but tease him a little. He’d been very serious lately and she needed to see him smile. “Have my cleaning skills met your standards then, Sir?”

Dominik snorted, closing his laptop and setting it aside before pulling her on top of him. “Not yet, but you’re getting there. Thankfully, your other talents make up for the odd sock I find under our bed.”

“Our bed?”

“Yes. I’ve decided you belong here.” Dominik ran his hands up her bare thighs as she straddled him. “Do you object?”

“No, Sir.” Her eyes drifted shut as he lifted her nightgown up over her head. “I feel like I belong here too.”

Life wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty damn close considering everything else going on. The first day back, Sahara had spent hours with the district attorney, going over her statement and giving even more details about her past abuse. Grant’s lawyers were pushing for a deal, and the DA had explained to Sahara exactly what that would mean.

If Grant pled guilty, he would be deported and serve six months in jail in New York. He’d have to go through anger management courses for thirty-six months after and wouldn’t be eligible to request permission to return to Canada for five years.

His career would be over.

Sahara couldn’t help feeling responsible, even though most people would think she was being stupid for taking any blame.

Thankfully, talking to Dominik helped her put everything in perspective.

“He fucked up his career, sunshine. You let him get away with what he did to you once—gave him two more years to play the game and get fucking therapy.” Dominik cupped her cheek in his hand and forced her to meet his steady gaze. “I’m grateful that you don’t have the guilt of his other victims on your head. If he’s let off the hook again, you will.”

In Dominik’s bedroom, ironing her Ice Girls uniform for the game tonight, Sahara squared her shoulders, finding strength in the confidence Dominik gave her. This wouldn’t be easy, but she wouldn’t back down.

Hearing Kimber’s bright laughter coming through the partially closed door, Sahara smiled. If Dominik’s encouragement hadn’t been enough, seeing Kimber’s trusting gaze every day certainly was. The girl looked up to Sahara, which was scary and empowering all at once. Scary because she wasn’t sure she could be the hero Kimber seemed to expect her to be. Empowering because there was no fucking way she’d let that sweet child down.

The noisy play from the other room quieted. Sahara put down the iron as she heard Bran’s quiet sobs.

“Hey, buddy, don’t cry.” Dominik’s tone was soft and soothing. “We were having so much fun with the cars, you didn’t realize how badly you needed to go. We’ll get you cleaned up and keep playing, okay?” Silence. Bran had likely nodded, because Dominik continued. “Can you get him a change of clothes, Ladd? I’ll go run him a bath.”

No worries. My man’s got this covered. Sahara grinned as she continued ironing out every crease in her skirt. She used to send her uniform to the dry cleaners, but Dominik had decided to add laundry to her list of chores. He’d also told her, in no uncertain terms, that using the dry cleaners for anything that she could throw in the washing machine was cheating.

She didn’t mind. Even though this was taking forever, she found the mindless task relaxing. And his warm approval when she completed each task was worth the extra effort.

The water stopped running. She could hear Bran giggling and splashing. That would please Dominik—he was always trying to make the boy smile. He’d also gotten the kid an excessive amount of toys, so Bran was probably in the water, up to his ears in bubbles, soaking Dominik and having a blast.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

“I’ll get it!” Kimber called out.

The doorbell. Sahara stopped ironing, trying to think of who would be visiting right before they headed to the Forum for tonight’s game. She heard the door open hard. Kimber let out a muffled scream.

“Where the fuck is she? Don’t fucking move, Mason. I don’t want to hurt the kid.”

Grant. Sahara set down the iron and slipped quietly toward the door. She could see Dominik halfway across the room, facing Grant with his hands up. A few feet behind him, Heath stood in the doorway of the bathroom, looking back and forth between his little brother, who hadn’t seemed to notice the shouting, and Kimber.

“You don’t want to do this, Higgins.” Dominik spoke calmly, but Sahara could see the rage in his eyes. If Kimber weren’t in danger, Dominik would kill the other man.

“I want to talk to that fucking cunt.”

Sahara pushed the door open all the way and cleared her throat. “I’m right here, Grant.”

“You ruined me! I loved you, and you fucking ruined me!” Grant shoved Kimber toward Dominik and came at Sahara too fast for her to react. He spun her around with his hand on her throat, keeping her between himself and Dominik. “Move, and I’ll snap her goddamn neck. I have nothing to lose, man.”

The stench of alcohol came to Sahara with Grant’s every heavy breath. He’d probably met with his lawyers, gotten plastered, and come straight here. She wasn’t sure how he’d found Dominik’s place, but she had to get him out.

“Grant, you’re scaring the kids.” She struggled to inhale past the pressure on her windpipe. “Please let me go. We can talk about this.”

Grant let out a cold laugh. “Talk? What’s the point? You’re not going to drop the charges, and even if you did, my reputation is shit.”

All right, getting him out wasn’t going to be good enough. He’d beaten her unconscious when he was still at the beginning of a promising career. If he got her alone now, there was no telling what he’d do.

He loosened his grip on her throat a little though, so she took a deep breath, struggling to keep herself calm. “What do you want, Grant?”

The muscles of his chest tensed as he pulled her tight against him. He panted into her hair. “Just you. I lost everything because of you, and I’m not letting you go again.”

Don’t fucking bet on it, asshole. Sahara met Dominik’s eyes. His jaw ticked.

She slammed her head back as hard as she could. Grant cursed and she dropped her weight to free herself, then drove forward into his knees.

He hit the wall hard, latching on to her hair before she could duck out of reach. She tried to knee him in the balls, but he blocked her, dragging her close as Dominik reached them.

Her eyes teared as she struggled to twist free. Her scalp stung with each sharp tug.

Self-defense had taught her to preserve her energy, but she couldn’t help panicking with Grant’s hands on her. Dominik couldn’t reach her with Grant using her to shield himself. Maybe easily snapping necks was only in the movies, but if Grant kept jerking her head back, he’d do some serious damage.

He’d almost let her go when she’d struck him with the back of her head. Maybe she’d broken his nose. One more hit and he might let her go.

Squirming, she shoved her hand up into his face. Slick, warm blood covered her fingers as the heel of her palm reached his nose. Which had probably been broken so many times on the ice he wasn’t feeling it as much as he should.

So she pressed up farther, jabbing her fingers into his eyes.

Wrenching back, Grant released her and brought his hands to his face. She crab-crawled out of reach.

Dominik pinned Grant to the floor. “Motherfucker, I should end you for this.”

Before his fist came down, Heath grabbed his arm. “Just hold him there, man. The cops are on the way.”

If Heath is here… Sahara pushed to her feet, wiping her bloody hands on her jeans. Was Bran alone in the bath? Where was Kimber? Had she seen—

“Sahara, they’re fine,” Heath said softly. “I got her into the bathroom with Bran as soon as the bastard was focused on you and Mason. Kimber took my phone and called 911.”

Swallowing hard as her stomach twisted with nausea, Sahara stumbled into the kitchen. She still needed to see if the kids were all right. But not covered in blood. Shit, there was so much blood.

On her clothes too. She had to get changed. Her eyes teared.

Big hands settled on her shoulders. She jumped.

“It’s me, my sunny girl.” Dominik turned her in his arms and tipped her chin up. “Grant’s been taken in. The nice detective has a few questions. Here, let me.” He grabbed a paper towel and wet the edge under the running water. Then he gently wiped her cheek. “What did I say? My girl is tough.”

“I don’t feel tough.” A shaky laugh bubbled up, but the sound was weak. She was breathing too fast and her heart was pounding out of her chest. “I feel like I want to curl up in a little ball and hide.”

Dominik nodded slowly. “Yes, but when it counted, you didn’t freeze up. You didn’t hide. You were strong.” He tossed the bloodstained paper towel in the sink and gathered her close. “Next time his face haunts you, remember that.”

Resting her head on Dominik’s chest, Sahara took a deep breath and nodded. She hadn’t seen Grant’s face, but she’d never forget the moment she’d managed to fight back.

And break free.

* * *

Dominik packed his sports bag, dropping his gloves three times before he forced himself to stop and calm the fuck down. The cops had taken off over an hour ago, but he hadn’t let himself lose it in front of Sahara or the kids.

Sahara was in the bedroom, getting ready for her performance on the ice. She had bruises on her neck, but the paramedic who had come along with the police had checked her out and said she was fine. So Sahara had simply showered—with him hovering close—then gone through the routine that seemed all too familiar. She had a palette of makeup she’d expertly applied until the marks almost disappeared.

He couldn’t watch anymore. He longed for the fucking day she could throw all that extra makeup in the trash. For when the only bruises she’d have would be from knocking her shin on the coffee table or maybe landing hard on the ice after a spin.

He was so damn proud of Sahara, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever get the image of her struggling in Higgins’s hold while Dominik stood there, completely helpless, out of his head. If Ladd hadn’t stopped him, he would have beaten Higgins to a bloody pulp minutes before the cops walked in.

If he had a fucking key to the man’s cell, he’d go take him out now. He’d never craved another man’s death this badly. The extent of his own rage kinda freaked him out.

Heavy footsteps came up behind him. Stopped by his side. “Was I wrong?”

Dominik scowled up at Ladd. “You’re going to have to learn to use complete sentences, kid. Wrong about what?”

“Wrong to stop you. Kimber’s got a swollen lip. She’s being all brave, but she’s still shaky.” Ladd bent down and handed Dominik his glove. “I’m her brother. I’m supposed to keep her safe, but I’ve done a shitty job.”

“You’re still a kid yourself, Ladd. I’m surprised you still want to stay with me.” Dominik rubbed a hand over his face. “I just fucking stood there.”

Ladd inclined his head. “Yes. I saw. You stood there and didn’t risk my sister’s life.”

“She shouldn’t have been in danger! How the fuck did he even find my house?”

Staring at the floor, Ladd clenched his jaw. “Everyone knows I live with you. The press takes photos of me every time I bloody leave.”

“Shit.” All right, they were moving much sooner than August. And getting a fucking security system. And having a chat with the little ones about not answering the door. Ever.

With a Whoop! Bran came running out of the bedroom he shared with his brother. He threw himself at Dominik, then perched on his thigh, smacking his chest. “Cobras!”

“Yep.” Dominik smiled, looking the little boy over. Thankfully, he hadn’t seen or heard anything to traumatize him. He’d seemed impressed by the police, but not really sure what was going on. Dominik wrapped an arm around Bran as the little boy rubbed the team logo. “Are you excited for the game?”

“Yes! I’m you!” Bran hopped up and turned around. He was wearing #6, with MASON across the top.

Why…? Dominik looked at Ladd, who grinned and shrugged.

“The guys who painted my room brought us a few jerseys.” Kimber came over to sit cross-legged in front of them. “I’m wearing Heath’s #4. Bran wanted to wear your jersey, Dominik. He said he wants to be just like you when he’s big.”

“He said all that?” Dominik was happy with the few words the little boy had spoken up to now, but he’d love to hear a full conversation.

“I want to be this big!” Bran opened his arms the width of Dominik’s shoulders. “Heath isn’t big.”

Ladd snorted. “You’re one to speak, squirt.”

Bran stuck out his tongue.

Dominik hugged the tiny child and laughed. Damn, it was hard to stay mad with his house full of youth and innocence and life. He might not have been able to spare Sahara from facing down Higgins one last time, but he’d meant it when he’d told her to remember how strong she’d been.

Speaking of Sahara, he could sense her presence as she stepped into the room. She was wearing jeans and a Cobra hoodie, her uniform in her hand on a hanger in a clothing bag. Her hair was straight, spilling over her shoulders with a soft golden glow.

His beautiful, loving, fucking tough woman looked like an angel as she smiled at him. He stood, lifting Bran when the little boy put his arms up, and strode up to her to claim her lips. A quick kiss since the kids were watching, but it was all he needed to assure himself she was really all right.

“I heard him talking to you.” Sahara tapped Bran under the chin. “And he’s letting you hold him.”

“I think he figures, if you trust me, I must be worthy.”

“Hmm.” Sahara rose up on her tiptoes to steal another kiss. “He’s a smart kid.”