Chapter 58 The breaking point
Chapter 58: The Breaking Point (Liam’s POV)
The cold air hit my face, but it didn't do anything to stop the fire in my veins. I didn't even stop at the locker room. I didn't take off my skates or my pads. I just walked out of the arena, the blades of my skates grinding and clicking against the asphalt of the parking lot.
"Liam! Where are you going? The game isn't over!" Jax was behind me, shouting, but I didn't turn around.
"Leave me alone, Jax," I growled.
"You just walked off the ice during a tied game! The scouts are right there, man!"
I stopped and spun around. I must have looked like a maniac—still in my jersey, breathing heavy, sweat dripping down my neck in the freezing night air. "I don't care about the scouts. I don't care about the game. Did you see him? Did you see that guy’s hand on her?"
Jax rolled his eyes, putting his hands on his hips. "So what? She’s a gold digger, Liam. She found a new target. Probably told him the same sob story she told you. Why do you even care?"
"I shouldn't care!" I yelled, the sound echoing through the empty parking lot. "That’s the problem! I should be happy she’s someone else’s headache. But seeing him touch her... seeing her laugh at whatever he was whispering... I wanted to kill him, Jax. I wanted to burn the whole arena down."
"You're losing it," Jax said, his voice dropping. "You're letting a girl from the basement ruin your career. Get back inside, apologize to Coach, and finish the game."
"Go back inside and tell them I’m sick," I said, turning back toward my car. "I'm done for tonight."
I drove. I didn't even change out of my gear; I just threw a jacket over my jersey and drove until the lights of Northview were a blur in my rearview mirror. I ended up at the old stone bridge near the edge of the estate—the place where we had sat just three weeks ago, talking about the stars.
I sat on the hood of my car, the metal ticking as it cooled down. The silence of the woods was irritating. I wanted noise. I wanted to hit something.
"He’s so easy to manipulate."
The recording flashed in my mind again, but this time, it was followed by the image of Julian’s hand on Elena’s waist. Julian didn't look like a guy who was being manipulated. He looked like a guy who was being chosen.
If she was just after money, why Julian? He looked like a nobody. He didn't have a Vance name. He didn't have a scholarship to offer.
"Why him?" I whispered to the dark.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting a rage-filled text from my father. Instead, it was a notification from the school blog.
SPOTTED: The Ice King abdicates! Liam Vance walks off the ice mid-game while Elena Marycynthia gets cozy with a South-High mystery man. Is the basement girl moving up in the world?
There was a photo. It was blurry, taken from the stands, but you could see it clearly: Julian was leaning in, his lips inches from Elena’s ear, and she was smiling. A real smile. Not the fake, terrified look she had been wearing around the house.
I growled and threw my phone into the passenger seat. I hated her. I hated that I still cared. I hated that I wanted to drive back to the arena, find that Julian guy, and show him exactly why I was the captain of the hockey team.
I didn't go back to the party. I didn't go to the locker room. I went home.
The mansion was quiet when I walked in. The party from the night before had been cleaned up, leaving the house smelling of lemon polish and emptiness. I headed for the kitchen, needing a drink, but stopped when I saw a light on in the laundry room.
Elena was there.
She was still in the black dress from the game, but her hair was down now, falling over her shoulders in messy waves. She was leaning against a table, her cane hooked over the edge, staring at a pile of white towels.
"Where is he?" I asked. My voice sounded louder than I intended in the quiet room.
Elena jumped, her hand flying to her chest. She looked at me, her eyes wide with shock. "Liam? What are you doing here? The game..."
"The game is over," I said, walking into the room. I stood in the doorway, blocking her exit. "Where’s Julian? Did he drop you off at the gate like a good little boyfriend?"
Elena’s face hardened. She reached for her cane and stood up straight. "He offered to drive me to the door, but I told him I’d walk. I didn't want him to have to deal with your father’s security."
"How thoughtful," I sneered. "So, is he the new plan? Does he have a trust fund I don't know about? Or are you just practicing your 'manipulation' on him before you move on to someone bigger?"
"Stop it, Liam," she said, her voice trembling. "Just stop. You walked away. You told me I wasn't worth the penalty minutes. You told me to stay with him. So why are you standing here interrogating me?"
"Because I want to know how you did it," I said, stepping closer. I could smell the cold air on my jacket and the vanilla on her. The mix was making my head swim. "How did you go from 'loving' me to smiling at a stranger in less than forty-eight hours?"
"I didn't go anywhere!" she shouted, her voice breaking. "I was sitting there trying to survive! Julian is Maya’s friend. He was just being nice. Something you’ve forgotten how to do!"
"Nice?" I laughed harshly. "He was touching you, Elena. He was looking at you like..."
"Like what? Like I’m a human being? Like I’m not a servant? Like I’m someone worth talking to?" She stepped toward me, her eyes flashing with a fire I hadn't seen since the library. "He treated me better in two hours than you’ve treated me in two weeks. And you hate that, don't you? You hate that you don't own me."
"I don't want to own you!"
"Then let me go!" she cried. "Tell your father to fire us. Give me the scholarship and let me leave. If I’m such a snake, why am I still in your basement?"
I reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her toward me. It wasn't a soft movement. It was desperate. "Because I'm not finished with you yet."
"Let go of me," she whispered, but she didn't pull away.
We stood there in the middle of the laundry room, surrounded by the smell of detergent and the hum of the machines. I could feel her heart racing under my hand. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to shake her. I wanted to ask her to tell me one more time that the recording was a lie.
"Liam?"
We both froze. Chloe was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed to slits.
"The team is looking for you," Chloe said, her voice like a whip. "Jax said you went home, but I didn't think I’d find you in the laundry room... with the help."
I let go of Elena’s arm like it was on fire. I stepped back, my chest heaving.
"I was just... checking on the schedule," I stammered.
"The schedule?" Chloe walked into the room, her heels clicking on the tile. She looked at Elena with pure, unadulterated disgust. "Elena, I believe there are some muddy hockey jerseys in the locker room that need cleaning. Why don't you go get them? Now."
Elena looked at me, waiting for me to say something. To be the "Prince" again.
I looked at Chloe, then at Elena. I thought about the recording. I thought about Julian’s hand on her waist.
"You heard her," I said, my voice turning to stone. "Get to work."