The Hockey God in My Bed

Addie POV:

A feminine laugh, light and cruel, drifted from the window. "Darling, are you sure you gave Addie enough? We wouldn't want her waking up and interrupting our fun."

My brain went white.

A drug? They drugged me?

Then a man's voice, low and smug with satisfaction, answered her, "Relax, baby. This is the good stuff. She won't be able to fight it. She'll just lie there like a good little Sleeping Beauty, waiting for the 'prince' we arranged."

I fought to open my eyes, my vision swimming in and out of focus.

Through the blur, I saw two shapes against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the hotel suite. Two bodies, tangled together on the chaise lounge, silhouetted by the moonlight.

Then came the smell.

The cloying, expensive scent of my stepmother Kendra's perfume, mingled with the sharp, cedar notes of my fiancé Chayce's aftershave.

My heart didn't just sink. It plummeted.

I tried to sit up, but my limbs were unresponsive, weighted down by an invisible force. A strange, unfamiliar heat bloomed deep in my belly, making my head spin.

I recognized the room. This was the suite we'd booked to celebrate our engagement anniversary. I was supposed to be wearing the silver dress I'd picked out for dinner, not lying helpless in bed.

A wave of nausea churned in my stomach, hot and acidic.

The man I was going to marry. The woman I had called "mom" for five years.

I bit down on my lip, hard. Tears I couldn't control streamed from the corners of my eyes, soaking the silk pillowcase.

Kendra's voice dripped with jealousy. "That little bitch. Why does she get you, and that massive trust fund her mother left her? Once we ruin her reputation, the entire Sullivan fortune will be ours."

It all clicked into place. A perfectly orchestrated trap.

Chayce's devotion, Kendra's maternal affection-all of it, a lie.

They drugged me on the night of our anniversary, in our celebration suite, and had sex in front of me while I was paralyzed.

I squeezed my eyes shut. The image of Chayce on one knee, slipping the ring on my finger, flashed in my mind. He'd promised to love me, to protect me. Those vows were now just slaps across my face, each one stinging more than the last.

The wedding dress sketches I'd drawn. The tiered cake flavors I'd practiced baking. Every sweet, hopeful dream I'd had for our future was being crushed under the weight of their bodies.

The heat inside me intensified. My breathing grew shallow and rapid. An aching emptiness spread through me, a physical craving that was terrifying and humiliating. The drug was taking full hold.

I dug my nails into my palms, trying to use pain to fight the chemical tide. I couldn't let them win.

The sounds from the chaise lounge subsided. I heard the rustle of clothing.

"When is that homeless guy you found getting here?" Kendra asked, her voice sharp with impatience. "I don't want to be here too long."

Homeless guy?

My heart hammered against my ribs. They weren't just going to ruin my name. They were going to humiliate me in the most degrading way possible.

"He's waiting downstairs," Chayce said. "I'll send him up as soon as we leave. By tomorrow morning, every gossip blog in New York will have the headline: Sullivan heiress in drug-fueled orgy at The Harmonia, deflowered by a homeless man. Let's see how her stuffy old man protects her then."

Every word was a knife twisting in my gut.

I heard footsteps approach the bed. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel Kendra's venomous gaze on me.

She leaned in close, her voice a poisonous whisper right next to my ear. "Don't blame us, Addie. Blame your dead mother, for leaving you something that should have never been yours."

Her breath was cold against my skin. I felt her icy fingers trail down my cheek, a gesture of mock tenderness, like an artist admiring a masterpiece just before smashing it.

"Make sure you handle all the traces," Kendra murmured.

Chayce kissed her. "Don't worry. It will be perfect. Once we get the money, we're off to Europe."

The suite door clicked open, then shut.

Silence.

I lay there, my body burning in a private hell, but my soul was ignited by a hatred so pure and cold it was almost clarifying.

The only sounds left were my own ragged breaths and the distant, ceaseless hum of the city outside.

Addie POV:

They hadn't left.

Whispered voices seeped through the crack under the door. My ears, sharpened by adrenaline, felt unusually keen.

"Chayce, is just ruining her reputation really enough?" Kendra's voice was laced with a new thread of anxiety. "What if she tells someone what happened tonight?"

A cold, dismissive laugh from Chayce. "And who would believe her? The word of a drugged-out slut? Besides, I'll make sure she never gets the chance to open her mouth."

"What I'm really worried about is her precious little brother, Leo," Kendra said, her tone turning sharp. "That kid is still in college, but his mother's lawyer has been in constant contact with him. If we just force Addie into a marriage, the trust will still be under the lawyer's supervision."

Leo.

A giant, invisible hand squeezed my heart. They were going after my brother. My sweet, goofy, nineteen-year-old brother.

I remembered my mother's last days, her frail hand in mine, making me promise I would always look after him. I would not let them touch him.

"I have a plan for that," Chayce soothed her. His voice was casual, as if he were discussing the weather. "I've already had someone collect photos of Leo at parties. It's easy to find a few shots that look like he's doing drugs or sleeping around, maybe Photoshop a few more. Create a narrative."

A chill, colder than any fear I'd felt before, crept down my spine. This man, the one I thought was a simple, sun-kissed hockey player, had a mind like a viper's nest.

"Then," Chayce continued, "we anonymously leak the 'evidence' to his university and the press. He gets expelled, publicly shamed. The trustees will have no choice but to reconsider his eligibility as a secondary beneficiary."

Kendra's delighted little laugh was the ugliest sound I had ever heard. "You really have thought of everything. With her brother's reputation on the line, Addie will be even more compliant."

My nails dug into my palms until they drew blood. I welcomed the sting. The burning in my body and the ice in my heart were locked in a war, and the battleground was a strange, terrifying clarity.

I had to get out. Not just for me. For Leo.

I couldn't let them extinguish the last bit of light in my life.

Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, I tried to move my fingers. Then my wrist. It was a silent, agonizing effort. The drug had turned my muscles to lead, and every tiny twitch cost me a mountain of energy. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead.

Outside the door, their conversation shifted to my father.

"Your husband, Benny, is such a fool," Chayce said with open contempt. "So wrapped around your little finger he can't see straight. Barely even asks about his own daughter."

"He's just weak," Kendra sighed, a note of smug satisfaction in her voice. "But that makes him easy to control. Once we have Addie's mother's inheritance, I'll find a reason to divorce him. The company will be mine by then, too."

So her entire marriage to my father was a long con.

A surge of strength, born of pure rage, shot through me. I managed to turn my wrist, my fingers brushing the edge of the nightstand.

The cool, smooth surface of a glass water tumbler met my fingertips. An idea sparked in my mind. A desperate, crazy idea.

I could break it. Make a sound. Or maybe... use a shard to keep myself awake.

Just as I gathered my strength to act, Kendra's voice dropped, coiling around a new, more horrifying suggestion.

"Chayce," she said, her tone turning sinister, "I just feel like leaving Addie alive is a liability. Why don't we just... finish it?"

She paused.

That brief, heavy silence was more terrifying than any words.

Chayce understood. His voice was low when he finally spoke. "What are you suggesting?"

I held my breath. My heart was a frantic drum against my ribs, so loud I was sure they could hear it through the door.

My body trembled uncontrollably, a storm of chemicals and sheer terror.

I pushed my fingers harder, straining against my own unresponsive muscles. My fingertips finally curled around the base of the cold glass.

I was about to sweep it to the floor.

But then Kendra spoke the words that would be burned into my memory for eternity.

Addie POV:

"We stage an accident," Kendra said. Her voice, stripped of all its fake sweetness, was as sharp and cold as a shard of glass. "A tragic overdose. She gets confused, disoriented... and falls from the window. This is the 28th floor, after all."

My world went silent. A roaring vacuum sucked all the air from my lungs, all the blood from my head.

She wanted to kill me.

Any flicker of hope I had ignited was instantly extinguished, leaving behind nothing but a vast, frozen wasteland of despair.

I could already see the headlines. "Socialite Addie Sullivan Dies in Tragic Fall After Apparent Drug Binge."

No one would question it. My father, blinded by Kendra, would mourn his foolish, reckless daughter. The world would see a tragedy, not a murder.

I waited for Chayce's response. A tiny, insane part of me held out for him to refuse. He had loved me once. He must have.

The silence from the hallway stretched on. It was more chilling than immediate agreement. He was considering it. Weighing the pros and cons of my murder.

Every second was an eternity.

Finally, he spoke. His voice was dry, decisive. "Too risky. And it's letting her off too easy. A quick death is a gift. I'd rather she live in hell."

"Oh?" Kendra's interest was piqued.

"After we've destroyed her reputation," Chayce laid out his vision, his voice thick with venom, "I'll arrange for a little car accident. Nothing fatal. Just enough to put her in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. A cripple with a drug and sex scandal hanging over her head is no threat to anyone."

Tears streamed silently down my face, hot against my cold skin. The last, pathetic ember of my love for him died, leaving behind only the blackest ash. This was the man I had promised my life to.

"That's a brilliant idea," Kendra purred, her voice filled with admiration for his cruelty. "A living, broken Addie is so much more useful than a dead one. We can even play the part of her devoted caretakers."

I almost choked. The sheer audacity of their evil was breathtaking.

Their footsteps finally faded down the hall. They were satisfied with their perfect plan. They were gone.

The moment I was sure, a sob tore from my throat, raw and ragged. It was the sound of a life shattering.

Why did I love a monster? Why did I trust a snake?

Grief and fury washed over me in a tidal wave. But then, something else rose from the depths. Something stronger.

The will to live.

I would not die. I would not be crippled. I would live, and I would make them pay a thousand times over for what they did tonight.

That single thought was a jolt of pure power. I tried to move again, and this time, my body responded. It was slow, clumsy, but it was mine again.

I fought my way to the edge of the bed and rolled off, landing with a heavy thud on the plush carpet. The jolt of pain was clarifying.

I began to crawl.

Like a wounded animal, I dragged myself across the floor, inch by painful inch, toward the door. My only goal was to escape this room.

I finally reached it, my trembling fingers closing around the cold, brass handle. I turned it.

Locked.

It wouldn't budge. They had locked me in from the outside.

Despair crashed over me again. I collapsed against the door, the drug-fueled heat surging back, threatening to swallow my remaining sanity.

My eyes darted around the room, searching for anything, any tool, any weapon. My gaze landed on the room service cart left in the corner.

And on it, a small, gleaming fruit knife.

A spark.

I gathered what was left of my strength and began to crawl again. The cart was only a few feet away, but it felt like miles.

I grit my teeth, Kendra and Chayce's voices echoing in my head, their poison fueling my resolve.

Chayce Wheeler. Kendra Sullivan. The names were a curse on my tongue. If I survive this, I will drag you to hell myself.

Tears and sweat mingled on my face. In the silent tomb of that hotel room, I made a blood oath.