Ella

Tonight, we're having a meeting to discuss our options regarding Mikael.

Every time I think his name, I feel slimy. Like I need to bathe in boiling water. There's no telling what Mikael had planned for me. Whether that was gaslighting or sexually assaulting me...

I submerge my hands in the hot water, aggressively scrubbing the grime from the plate. My fucking imagination won't stop picturing what could've happened had Shea not told me about Mikael. Had our relationship evolved and had I been uncomfortable with anything and told Mikael to stop... I can picture his large hands leaving bruises on my biceps. His knee parting my legs while he holds me down and I try to fight against him.

A tear slips down my cheek. How could I be so stupid? Why didn't I listen to Shea from the beginning? Aside from Kaleb back in high school, I don't attract good men. There is an inevitable magnetic force that draws them in. By now, and considering how shitty my father is, I should know better. Better than to give my heart away without an extensive background check through social media and whatever information I can find. I don't care if that makes me sound like a stalker. My safety is more important than some egotistical, chauvinistic pig's urges.

But my heart longs for love. Not because I need a man, but because I want someone. I want a relationship like the one Kaleb and Melody have. Brenna and Shea. Where two people respect the hell out of each other and will fight side-by-side no matter what. Whenever I'm around them, I feel like the fifth wheel. The unwanted, single friend that drags the team down.

I know I'm not, but it feels that way. Nothing feels positive right now. I feel like I'm stuck in a rut, still paying for mistakes I didn't make. I hate it when men use vulnerability and manipulation to their advantage.

Choking on a sob, my hand slides from the plate. Something sharp slices through the meaty part of my thumb. There's an agonizing sting as the soap water comes in contact with the cut. I remove my hand from the water, leaving it suspended above. For a moment, the blood is discoloured, a light pink instead of dark red. But as the water drips away and the blood becomes more potent, the colour changes back to dark red. The gash from the submerged knife is about four centimetres long; not huge, but deep.

"Fuck," I mutter.

"Ella?"

When I turn around, I see Kaleb and Melody standing on the opposite side of the island. Kaleb has a pack of beer tucked beneath his arm. His other arm is wrapped around Mel's waist. She's carrying a bottle of wine, along with a bag of takeout. I'm assuming the large brown paper bag is full of the appetizers she insisted on bringing. She tried to convince me a get-together, no matter the mood, is nothing without food. What I think she's trying to do is keep everyone sober. Kaleb can drink people under the table and Shea is a lightweight, but both of them usually end up with killer hangovers. Which can't happen because they're leaving for a seven-day road trip tomorrow afternoon.

"Fuck, Ella." Kaleb removes his arm from around Melody's waist and sets the beer on the island. Then he steps around the island and comes to inspect my hand. Since they arrived, blood has pooled on the hardwood. "What did you do?"

I sniffle, hoping I don't look as horrible as I feel. "It was an accident. I didn't k-know there was a k-knife in the sink already." When I glance at the clock, I note they're about half-an-hour early. "What are you doing here?"

Kaleb reaches over my shoulder and grabs some paper towel. The stand sits next to the sink, beside the soap and scrubbing brush. He takes my hand, flips it over, and then applies some pressure. "Do you have a first-aid kit?"

"Above the fridge."

He doesn't need to move because Melody is already heading to the fridge. Shifting to her tip-toes, she opens the cupboard and extracts the red first-aid kit. As she saunters over, the contents inside shake, filling the room with the sound of rattling pills and metal instruments (scissors, tweezers, and a pocket knife because you never know what will happen when you're hiking).

When Mel joins us, Kaleb steps aside and lets Melody take over. No surprise there. Melody is a nurse. And while this is no judgement against Kaleb's character, I trust Melody with injuries more than I do Kaleb.

She peels back the paper tower, which is partially soaked with red, and gives her head a small shake. Her smile is sympathetic.

"Come on, Ella. Let's get your hand cleaned up. Kal can clean up the mess." She looks over his shoulder, cocking an eyebrow. "As much as you want to play knight in shining armour, I'm the nurse."

Kaleb already has a fresh, now-damp cloth in his hand. The droplets of my blood spattered across the floor are vibrant pools of scarlet. He looks at them, and I note the crease of worry between his brows. "I've got it, Mel. Make sure Ella's okay."

The softness of his voice makes me want to break.

That is what a boyfriend is supposed to do. Care for you. Make you feel important and loved. A pang of longing reverberates down my spine. Kaleb and I may not be together anymore, but I miss the positive aspects of having a relationship with him. I wish I could find someone like him.

Nodding, I follow Mel into the bathroom down the hallway. She flicks the lights on and tells me to sit on the counter. It's difficult to manoeuvre around the bathroom with two people crowding it, but we manage. Once I'm sitting on the counter, my butt partially on the rim of the sink, Melody gets to work.

From the first-aid kit, she removes a package of gauze and disinfectant wipes. With the gauze, she dabs the cut and then applies pressure. The blood is only trickling now, which allows her to quickly clean it with the wipes. The sting is almost unbearable, and I hiss in pain through my teeth.

"You won't need stitches," she says, applying pressure to the wound.

"That's great," I mutter, my hand aching.

When Melody removes the disinfectant wipe, she nods in approval. Adding the soiled wipe and gauze to a pile next to my thigh, Melody removes a small tube of Polysporin. She applies a thin layer to the cut and then covers it with a Band-Aid. Although the stinging has diminished, there's still a persistent ache. I may need to take a few painkillers and avoid the alcohol tonight.

"Are you okay, Ella?" Melody asks. She's facing the small rack of clean towels. From my vantage point, I can see her side profile: the low dip of her black cropped T-shirt, her white-blonde hair that's styled in beachy waves, and her angelic facial features. The shirt skims the high waist of her white jeans. White jeans she got no blood on.

I listen as the wrappers for disinfectant wipes and the Band-Aid are crumpled into a ball and disposed of. When she turns to face me, there are fine lines around her mouth; her lips are pursed with worry.

"My heart hurts, Melody," I admit. I slide off of the counter so Melody can wash her hands. "What is with me attracting bad men?"

She turns the tap on, shooting me a sympathetic look. "Ella. This is not your fault. You're not expected to read the minds of men. They're just assholes. Most of them, anyway. It's difficult to find one of the good ones. I went through a few before meeting Kal." She pumps some soap into her hands and scrubs them together. "I know that sounds strange coming from me. I'm engaged to your ex."

I shake my head. "There's nothing strange about it. Kaleb and I didn't work out, but we didn't end on bad terms. I'm glad he's happy. That he met you." A soft smile appears on my lips as I tuck my hair behind my ear. "We became friends out of it, too."

She returns my smile, shutting the tap off. I hand her the cloth towel.

Just then, there's a knock on the door. We both look up and see Kaleb in the doorway.

"How's everything?" Kaleb asks. He's leaning in the doorway, the soft yellow of his baggy sweater looking more golden than yellow. "Do you need anything?"

Before I can answer, Melody is giving directions. "She'll need a couple of painkillers. Best to take them early, before the throbbing intensifies."

His eyes linger on me as he rubs his jaw. The gears in his brain are working, trying to decode a piece of information I'm unaware of. I can't help but think it has to do with me and Mikael, though. There is a smidge of anger in his posture—the way he's semi-gritting his teeth. As if he can't stand what Mikael has done. As if he wants to head over to Mikael's and commit a felony.

My gaze meets his, and Kaleb's brown eyes are as stormy as his posture. He gives me a curt nod before pushing away from the wall.

And, for the first time in years, I wonder where we'd be had I not feared my father.

* * *

"Well," Shea says, "at least you didn't fuck up this time."

Kaleb snorts. "I wasn't taking the video this time."

They laugh, and when I look at Brenna, I see a small smile on her lips.

There are several empty cans of beer on the coffee table. They're bracketed by half-picked over appetizers and used napkins and paper plates. We're relaxing on the couches, me sitting on the recliner, Kaleb and Melody on the couch, and Brenna sitting on Shea's lap on the other recliner. Shea hasn't let go of Brenna all night. No matter what, he's always touching her. Right now, Shea's arm is wrapped around her waist. His other hand continues to stroke her forearm. Every so often, he'll press a kiss to the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

Clearing her throat, Melody directs the conversation back to the topic. "Let's review this one more time. Kal and Shea will have a discussion with the coach and management. If nothing is done, they'll approach the NHL itself. Then they'll go public with it during interviews." She directs her gaze to Brenna. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

Brenna nods. "If my experience can empower other women and provide a sense of hope for future cases, then I want this information available to the public. Mikael also doesn't deserve to ride around on his high horse. That chauvinistic pig. He needs to fall hard."

Shea kisses Brenna's neck again, murmuring something incoherent in her ear. A bashful smile spreads across her lips, and she threads her fingers with Shea's.

"Okay," Melody nods. She expels a deep breath before tossing back the rest of her drink. Her cheeks are flushed from the alcohol. When she stands, her body sways a little. "Good. I have to pee. I'll be right back."

Melody stands there for a few seconds, her hand resting on the back of the couch, and when I see the concerned expression on Kaleb's face, I feel my blood run cold. He only wears that expression when something's severely wrong. I stare after Melody as she heads down the hallway to the bathroom.

If she has to battle cancer again...

Kaleb makes eye contact with me, and all he does is shake his head. Then he runs a hand through his hair. I nod. He doesn't want to discuss anything yet. Clearly, something is going on behind the scenes; there's more information that I'm unaware of.

I just hope it's nothing bad.

Because if it has anything to do with where the darkest parts of my mind want to...

My heart squeezes, and I'm left to wonder what type of storm we will have to weather on top of this issue with Mikael.