Chapter 4

Riley

I'm leaning against the cold metal of my locker, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room like I'm some kind of hawk. It's weird, standing here when I should be joking around with the guys, slapping backs, and talking trash about last night's game. But what happened last week in this very locker room changed things. Now I've got this protective streak flaring up that won't settle down.

"Watch it," someone murmurs as they brush past Amelia, a little too close for it to be accidental. I straighten up immediately, my gaze sharp, but she just ducks her head lower and moves on. My jaw clenches. Since I’ve been paying more attention, the teasing towards her is relentless. I thought they were just ribbing each other, the way we always do, but this... this was ugly.

"Cap, you good?" Alfie asks, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. I nod, not trusting my voice right now. If I start calling out every jerk in this place, it'll never end.

Amelia is over by the towel shelving. Her hands are steady as she folds the clean towel that someone just threw on the floor, but I can see the tension in her shoulders. I can see the way she's bracing for the next snide comment to hit her.

"Hey, Cap, you're zoning out. What's the deal?" another teammate asks. I shrug, trying to seem nonchalant, but inside, my gut is twisted. Before last week, I'd heard whispers, sure, but paying attention and seeing it all go down, the way they circle around her, tossing words like knives... It has left a sour taste in my mouth.

"Nothing, just thinking about the line-up for tomorrow night's game," I lie smoothly, even though I can feel Amelia’s hazel eyes darting my way now and then, weighing my presence here, questioning it.

The usual scents – sweat, menthol from the rubs, damp equipment – are all around, but there's an undercurrent of something else today. It could be the tension between Amelia and the rest of the team, or maybe it's just me. I feel like I’m straddling two sides of a fence, but making the bold shift to stand on the moral high ground side.

"Let's hope your head's in the game, Captain," says Alfie, clapping me on the shoulder before he heads out to the ice. I watch him go, take a deep breath, and push off from my locker. Time to lace up and get to work.

It's gonna be a long day.

The echo of footsteps down the hall as we leave The Blade's Edge is a nice post-practice rhythm. My breath comes out in frosty puffs exiting the warmth of the inside of the building out into the cold of the parking garage. I can feel the ache in my muscles, a good kind of pain that says today's session was solid. Jasper's stride matches mine walking next to me.

"Seriously though," Jasper starts, scuffing his sneakers on the concrete as we approach our cars. "Why are you playing knight for Amelia?"

I pause, keys jangling in my hand, and look him square in the eye. He's got a smirk on his face, but I'm not about to let it slide. "Because she's a human being, Jasper."

There's a challenge in my voice. I'm tired of the locker room bullshit, tired of watching someone get carved up just because they're different. Yeah, there's probably more stirring inside me, something raw and restless, but I shove that down deep. This isn't about me. It's about doing what's right.

He raises an eyebrow. "Come on, Riley," Jasper prods, making his point by using my actual name. He leans against the hood of his BMW X5, arms crossed over his chest. "You don't actually expect me to believe you're doing this purely out of the goodness of your heart?" He shakes his head with a chuckle. "We both remember her from Fairfax University. A few classes together and then—poof! She drops out. She's not worth the time."

I grit my teeth at his words. Sure, Amelia didn't finish college, but there's a story there, one I'm sure Jasper has never bothered to learn. I can feel the cold air biting at my exposed skin, the frustration coiling up inside me.

"Look, Jasper," I say firmly, cutting off any more of his assumptions, "this isn't about trying to score points or... hook up with her, if that's what you're getting at." My keys now feel heavy in my hand, a physical reminder of the weight of this conversation. "Someone's got to look out for each other here."

Jasper studies me for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he tries to read my intentions. There's a tense silence between us, only broken by the distant sound of car horns, reminding me of the city beyond the walls of the parking garage.

"Alright, Cap," he finally says, pushing off from his car and stepping closer. "Just seems a bit odd, that's all. But hey, it's your reputation."

I exhale slowly, letting the frustration dissipate just enough so I can keep my cool. We might be teammates and friends, but right now, Jasper's skepticism is just another thing adding to my annoyance.

"Look," I start, my hands shoved in my jacket pockets, "I just don't want to be that guy anymore, you know? The mean jock from college." I glance at him, my breath fogging up in the crisp air of the parking garage.

Jasper snorts, pushing off from his car with a smirk. "Riley Watson going soft on us?" He chuckles and shakes his head.

"If you want to call it that," I admit, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. It's not easy confessing this stuff, especially to someone who knew you when you were... less than stellar. "But people change, Jasper. They grow up."

"Sure, sure." He ambles over, slapping me on the shoulder. "Just remember, the Blades need a captain with balls, not a bleeding heart."

"Ha-ha," I reply dryly. Despite his ribbing, there's a part of me that appreciates his concern. His close friendship is one I’ve been grateful for all of these years we’ve known each other.

"Hey, how about we hit the weights later?" he offers, shifting gears. "See if you still got those balls or not?"

"Right. How about you try to keep up?" I shoot back.

"Text me when you’re free," he says with a nod, backing toward his own vehicle. "Don't chicken out."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I say, slipping inside my own car and pushing the key start button, letting the engine's purr cut through the silence

I pause to sit and collect my thoughts, reminding myself why I'm doing this—for Amelia, for the team, for myself. Maybe I can't change Jasper's mind, but I can damn well try to change the locker room culture, starting with one act of decency at a time.