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ICE TWENTY: A GOOD MAN IN THE WRONG STORY.
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2025-08-05 10:16:14
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SCORED HER HEART, NOT THE PUCK. ICE TWENTY-TWO: HEALING FUN.
MADISON'S POV:The first thing I registered was warmth. Soft, enveloping warmth that made me want to burrow deeper into whatever cocoon had wrapped itself around me. It felt oddly cozy.For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like my spine had gone to war with my mattress. My back didn’t ache. My feet didn’t throb. Even my head felt less foggy.The blanket wrapped around me was soft—luxurious, even. It smelled faintly of cedarwood and something warm and expensive, like a fireplace in a mountain cabin I couldn’t afford to visit.Wait.Blanket?My eyes fluttered open.Couch.Not mine.The blanket slipped down my shoulder as I sat up slowly, the realization crashing over me like cold water."Oh my God… I fell asleep in his house!"Thane Slade’s house. I shot up straight, scanning the room like it might rearrange itself and turn into a dream. Nope. This was real. I could still smell him faintly in the air—rich cologne and power.Panic gripped me."Did he see me sleeping?"My hand
SCORED HER HEART, NOT THE PUCK. ICE TWENTY-ONE: DANGEROUSLY CLOSE.
THANE’S POV:Something was off.Blabbermouth wasn’t herself today.No snide comments. No unsolicited life lectures. No annoying playlists either.Just silence. Wobbling silence.If I didn’t know better, I’d say I broke her already—and it was only the second day.She nodded at everything I said. Didn’t protest once when I bailed on a stretch. Didn’t even roll her eyes when I made that sarcastic remark about her weird breathing techniques. Her usual comebacks were reduced to quiet "yes" and "okay" responses that felt wrong, like watching a tiger purr instead of roar.I should’ve been thrilled.But it didn’t sit right.She was barely holding it together—her posture sagged, and her eyes were ringed with deep shadows that looked painted on. Black circles, like bruises under her skin. She kept swaying on her feet, eyelids drooping mid-sentence.Still, she made sure we completed every single activity on that insane schedule she came up with. Just like yesterday, the hours vanished beneath h
SCORED HER HEART, NOT THE PUCK. ICE TWENTY: A GOOD MAN IN THE WRONG STORY.
MADISON'S POV:Ellie blinked at him, then at me, clearly stunned. But she didn’t argue. Just scoffed and turned on her heel.Once she disappeared, Maverick turned to me, frustration bubbling just beneath his calm surface.“Maddie, what the hell?”I blinked. “What?”"Why do you let people walk all over you like that?" His voice rose slightly. "I heard about what happened with the storage room incident—You got locked up, and she’s the one who should’ve been in trouble. Why are you the one always paying the price?”My nerves bubbled with anger. Even thinking about that humiliating episode made me want to disappear into the floor.I shrugged. “It’s not that simple. Maverick, it's complicated—"He ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying not to explode. “It is that simple. You’re strong, Maddie. I’ve watched you make life-and-death decisions in trauma bays. I’ve seen you work miracles. So why let people treat you like you don’t matter?”I looked away.Because this isn’t home. Because I’
SCORED HER HEART, NOT THE PUCK. ICE NINETEEN: ANGELS IN SCRUBS.
MADISON’S POV:The sirens hadn’t stopped since I rushed into the hospital.Fifteen hours. That's how long I'd been on my feet since the emergency alert had shrieked through every hospital in the city. Code Red. All hands on deck. I hadn’t taken a breath in hours. I’d barely left the trauma wing since the moment I left Thane. One school shooting. One lunatic with a machete. And now dozens of lives in our hands.The images still burned behind my eyelids—children with eyes too wide, too knowing. The machete wounds that looked like abstract art painted in crimson. The way silence had settled over operating rooms like a heavy blanket, broken only by the steady beep of monitors fighting to keep hearts beating.I’d lost count of how many patients I’d triaged today. How many shaky mothers I held, how many bloodstained gloves I changed, or how many times I swallowed the sting behind my eyes just to get through another procedure.Some made it. Others… didn’t.I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to
SCORED HER HEART, NOT THE PUCK. ICE EIGHTEEN: FIRST SESSION OF RENEWED SUFFERING.
THANE'S POV:"Where exactly are we going?" I asked as she pulled away from the house with surprising smoothness.Madison reached into her bag while keeping her eyes on the road, and pulled out a folded paper, smacking it against my chest hard enough to startle me."Jesus—""Your schedule, your majesty. Read it.”I unfolded it and sighed. It was a handwritten schedule, every line perfectly sectioned in color-coded ink.THANE SLADE RECOVERY SCHEDULE8:30am — Healthy Breakfast (Check)9:30am — Regency Hospital: Physiotherapy12:00pm — Hydrotherapy Session1:30pm — Strength & Mobility Training (Core Focus)3:00pm — Deep Tissue Massage / Recovery4:30pm — Home Stretch + Nutrition RecapI blinked again. “You’ve lost your mind.”"This is recovery," she corrected, reaching for the radio, Madison turned up the radio. I expected some pop stations or maybe things girls listen to. Instead, she dialed straight to a hockey sports channel.“…and with Slade out, Robinson continues to dominate the ice
SCORED HER HEART, NOT THE PUCK. ICE SEVENTEEN: THE UNWILLING PATIENT.
THANE'S POV:Something was wrong with me. Had to be. Because here I was, rushing to finish dressing like my life depended on it.I stumbled downstairs like a man being summoned. No idea why I was hurrying. My back protested every step, and the ache in my leg didn’t make it any better. But somehow, it was like my mind was being controlled by a smart-mouthed nurse who had given me a five-minute ultimatum.It wasn't even midday, and I was already exhausted by her existence.Madison stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, wearing a satisfied expression."Perfect timing," she said, gesturing to the dining table where different meals had been laid out. "Marie made everything on the list I gave her. Eat. "I glanced at the plate. Eggs. Avocado. Whole grain toast. A side of quinoa salad. Who the hell eats salad in the morning? A green smoothie that probably tasted like lawn clippings."I'm not hungry," I lied, my stomach choosing that moment to growl like a betrayed animal."Your stomach disagree
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