Playing Dirty

Grace’s POV

Three men stood around me.

One of them, Noah, placed his hand over my stomach. It wasn’t a possessive touch. It wasn’t shy either. Just familiar. Like he’d done it before.

The coach spoke up. “Things might’ve gotten out of hand, but there’s no going back now.”

I didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much left to say. My body still remembered everything about that night. How it started. How it ended. How it changed everything.

Noah glanced at me. “That means we’re in this together.”

Wes gave a short laugh and looked over at the other two. “Then I guess we’ll share. At least until the babies come.”

FOUR MONTHS EARLIER…

I was standing in front of an office door with a clipboard in one hand and a tight feeling in my chest I couldn’t explain.

The plaque said Dr. Regina Collins. She was supposed to be my supervisor. I had been looking forward to working with her since the moment I got accepted into the residency program at Northcrest Sports Medicine. Northcrest is the best sports medical institute in the city, maybe even the state. Getting in had taken everything I had. Long hours, long nights, and even longer years. But I made it.

I knocked, then opened the door.

The voice I heard on the other side wasn’t Dr. Collins. It was deeper. A male voice. And even familiar.

When I walked in, I saw my stepfather, Grayson Hunt.

He was standing behind a young female resident. His hand was up her shirt. She backed away fast when she saw me. He didn’t.

He stared at me like I was the one interrupting something that belonged to him.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock?” he said.

I stayed exactly where I was.

“I’m still mad at her for marrying him after my dad died,” I said in my head, “but even she doesn’t deserve this.”

The girl rushed out of the side door, and it was just the two of us.

“If you tell your mother, I’ll have you fired so fast your head will spin,” he said.

“You don’t have that kind of power here,” I told him. “Dr. Collins is my supervisor.”

He didn’t even look concerned. “She was. She got transferred last week. I’m in charge now.”

The words hit harder than I expected.

“You can’t just fire me!”

“I won’t need to,” he said. “You’ll fuck something up eventually, and I’ll be right there to make sure it sticks.”

I stood there in silence, then turned to leave.

“Why don’t you leave sports surgery to the real doctors, Grace?” he called after me. “You’d make a better OB-GYN anyway.”

I didn’t turn back. I walked out before I gave him what he wanted. A reaction.

Orientation was later that morning. I sat at the back of the conference room, keeping my head down while assignments were handed out. The room was loud, mostly chatter and whispers, until the director, Dr. Georgina Hammond, called for attention.

“Next up,” she said, scanning her list, “the Springfield Vipers.”

I heard someone groan. The Vipers were a professional hockey team known for their talent, and for the chaos they brought with them.

“Buckle up,” Dr. Hammond said. “These hockey stars are not known for their patience.”

Grayson stepped in before she could finish. “Grace will take them.”

My head turned slowly in his direction.

He smirked. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

My chest tightened, but I stood up anyway.

“Thank you, Dr. Hunt,” I said. “I look forward to supporting the team to the best of my ability.”

The room went quiet for a second. I could feel the other residents looking at me, wondering if I was being honest or just stupid. But I didn’t care.

Dr. Hammond looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time. “That’s the kind of professionalism we like to see here. I’ve got my eye on someone for an early promotion to a permanent position. If you can handle the Vipers, it’ll go a long way.”

I felt the shift immediately. Northcrest rarely opened permanent slots. Earning one wasn’t just about being good, it was about proving you could handle pressure. And right now, all eyes were on me.

It’s competitive, cutthroat, and exactly where I want to be.

So when Dr. Hammond looked up from her clipboard and glanced in my direction, my stomach clenched.

“If you can handle the roughest team on our roster,” she said, her voice calm but pointed, “that’ll go a long way toward earning a permanent role.”

She was talking about the hockey team. My assignment. The one Grayson had practically thrown me into like he couldn’t wait to watch me sink.

Grayson shifted beside her.

“But Georgina…” His voice had that smooth, insincere edge he always used when he was trying to cover his real intentions.

Dr. Hammond cut him off without looking up. “You’ve clearly shown a lot of trust in this young woman, Dr. Hunt. I’m looking forward to seeing if she can deliver.”

I left the conference room and made my way to the locker room to change into something else.

I didn’t want to look too formal or too casual, but I also wasn’t about to walk into the rink looking like a lost intern. I slipped into a black turtleneck bodysuit tucked into tailored gray slacks, sharp lines and clean cuts. I pulled a Northcrest ID lanyard over my head, fastened a slim belt around my waist, and tied my hair back into a sleek ponytail. A fitted white coat completed the look.

By the time I stepped out of the tunnel and into the Springfield Vipers’ home rink, my heart was hammering against my ribs.

The arena was cold, but I barely noticed it.

The rink stretched wide at the center of the stadium, the boards gleaming under the lights. On the ice, bodies moved fast, players cutting sharp angles, colliding with bone-jarring force. It was loud and electric. The Vipers’ signature red and white jerseys stood out in a blur of speed and power, with bold crimson V emblems streaked across broad chests and padded shoulders.

I stood there at the edge, trying to act like I wasn’t overwhelmed. My hands were shoved deep in my coat pockets to hide the way they were starting to tremble.

It’s their first game of the season, they always rack up the most injuries in game one.

A hard crash against the boards snapped my attention forward.

I looked just in time to see a Vipers player slam an opposing forward against the glass with brutal precision. The boards shook. The guy went down.