LOGINMadison
Terror claws through my body, burrowing deep into my bones until every muscle is locked in place. Shock is a strange thing. I always assumed it was loud, dramatic enough to tear through you like lightning and leave 
JayVoicesspillfromthelivingroomjustofffromthegrandstaircase,screamingformyattention.IturntowardthemandfindMadisonnearthefireplace,withherarmswrappedaroundherselfsotightlythatitmakesmychestburnobsessively.Herfaceispale,herbodytremblesbutshewon’tbackdownthroughhersheerstubbornnessalone.She'sanAlpha’sdaughter,herbloodthickwithdeterminationandlonglineoflegacy.Ialmostadmireit.Alp
JayMadisongasps,hereyesinstantlyswellwithtearsandherhandcovershermouth.Onesideofthegatehangstwistedinward,themetalpeeledbacklikerippedfleshwhileclawmarksscorealongtheframeinthickstreaks.Theguardpostbesideitisbarelystandingwiththewindowsshatteredandtheroofhalfcollapsedin.Thiswasn’tarogueattack,thiswasamassacre.Nashjustdidn’twanttoadmitit.Myfooteasesoffthegasandthecar
MadisonTerrorclawsthroughmybody,burrowingdeepintomybonesuntileverymuscleislockedinplace.Shockisastrangething.Ialwaysassumeditwasloud,dramaticenoughtotearthroughyoulikelightningandleavenothingstandinginitswake.Butrealshock?It’smuchquieterthanthat.Itslipsintoyourbodylikecoldwater,seepingthrougheverylimbuntilyourbodynolongerfeelslikeyourownandyourthoughtsslidethroughyour&
JayYoucan’tbeafraidofthethingsthatmakeyoufeelalive.Idon’trememberwhereIhearditfirst.Maybefromsomeoneolder,someoneawholelotwiser.Someonewhodidn’thavetolivewiththeconsequencesofactuallybelievingit.NowI’mstartingtorealizeit’snotthatsimple.Becausethosethingsdon’tjustmakeyoufeelalive,theymakeyourecklessandeverythingaboutthisistextbookrecklessbutIstilldon&rsqu
MadisonAstingshootsacrossmyknucklesasIpoundonthedoor.Thesoundcomesofftooloudandurgent.Icringe,swallowinghardandsqueezingmyeyesshutlikethat’sgoingtoreversethedecisionI’vealreadycommittedto.Mychestistight,myjawlocked,myfingerscurlingintomypalmasIknockagain,harderthistime,becauseifhethinksI’mjustgoingtowalkaway…ifhethinksI’mgoingtopretend&nb
JayMy jaw shifts slightly, resentment coiling in my chest as Madison’s face flashes through my head and I cut the thought off hard.This is easier, simpler. Straightforward, with no strings attached. It’s just an outlet. A much needed release. “You busy?” I ask.A small pause passes. Then it follows with a softer, knowing exactly what I mean, “For you? Never.”It’s not like I expected anything less. I exhale slowly, something dark settling into place. “Come over.”There’s no hesitation this time. “Send me the address.”I end the call without a goodbye, already keying my address into the phone.I’m not even fully through my door before the knock echoes behind me. A smirk pulls on my lips, a reminder that she’s always been an eager beaver. My shirt’s already halfway off as I make my way to the door, fabric dragging over my shoulders before I toss it somewhere behind me and reach for the handle.The door swings open and she’s standing there already smiling, her long brown hair cascadi
JayI swore I’d never be back.I left this state before sunrise with a duffel bag and a bad decision. Now, I’m driving back into Dallas on a multi-million-dollar contract.Life’s sure got a sense of humor.Dallas didn’t just trade for me, they signed me for eight years. Which means I’m not visiting
Madison Ten Years Later…The first thing you learn about heartbreak is that time doesn’t erase anything.People love to say it does. They say give it a few years; you’ll forget, you’ll move on.Ten years later, I can confirm that’s complete bullshit.Time doesn’t erase anything. It doesn’t wipe aw
Jay Ten Years Later…The first thing you learn in the NHL is that nobody gives a damn about where you came from. Not your junior stats. Not your hometown. Not the rink you grew up freezing your ass off in while your parents screamed from the bleachers.The only thing that matters in this league i
MadisonThe next morning feels wrong before I even open my eyes.It’s the quiet that has my wolf on alert and clawing inside.After one of Nash’s parties, the house is never quiet. There are always groans from the couch, someone stumbling into the kitchen looking for coffee, Knox arguing with whoev







