All Chapters of My Ex's Brother Is the Hockey Alpha : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Catherine’s POVWhen I hear my name, I laugh first.Because obviously my brain is finally broken.There is no way Danny Westley is calling my name right now. No way. My mind is just being stupid again. It does that sometimes. Especially when I’m stressed. Or hungry. Or angry. Or breathing.Then I turn around.And there he is.Danny.Standing a few steps away.With Clinton.My laughter dies immediately. Anger rushes through me so fast it feels like someone poured boiling water into my veins. My eyes slide to Clinton before I can stop myself.He’s leaning slightly, one hand tucked into his pocket. Shoulders relaxed. Face glowing.Glowing.After ignoring me yesterday like I’m invisible.So that’s how it is.He probably forgot about me.We haven’t spoken in three days. Three whole days. And he’s the one who messed up. He’s the one who told me to go home like I was some extra decoration he didn’t need anymore. Yet he is the one acting like I don’t exist.Did he really think I would crawl

Catherine's POV I can feel my heart in my throat as Natasha cuts Danny off, raising her hand like a queen commanding the kingdom. “I will do it,” she says, all dramatic and shiny.Danny grins, smooth as butter, and waves her over like she just won the lottery. She struts toward him. And of course, they kiss. The crowd gasps…“Awww!” echoes everywhere…and my brain officially explodes.I turn my face away so fast, it’s almost impressive. I can feel the sting in my chest. Danny’s lips meeting hers…it hurts.Clinton leans slightly toward me, his eyebrow arching like he’s a cat who just spotted a bird. “You okay?” I force a smile, though it comes out more like a grimace. “Uhm… hmm,” I say, but I know I’m lying. I’m definitely not okay. It still hurts to see Danny with someone else…someone who isn’t me. My chest feels tight, my stomach knots, and for a split second, I want to vanish.Then Natasha’s voice cuts through my tortured thoughts.“The first game is called…” she pauses, her grin so

Catherine's POV So my aunt traveled last week. She didn’t tell me where she was going, by the way. But the problem now is that she called me last night and told me she’s coming back home today.That thought alone twists my stomach. The whole house is a mess. My clothes are everywhere, my textbooks are scattered, and I have exactly zero energy to clean anything.I groan as I pull my clothes off and step into the bathroom. I just want to take a quick bath before she arrives so she won’t see me looking like a confused ghost.Just as I grab my soap…My phone starts ringing.I ignore it.It keeps ringing.I grit my teeth. “Who is disturbing my peace this early?”It stops.Then starts again.I hiss, step out of the bathroom, dripping water on the floor like a wet chicken, march into my room, and grab my phone from the bed.I check the caller ID.I groan so loudly the devil probably hears me.Clinton.Calling at 7 a.m.Why is he conscious?Still annoyed, I stomp back to the bathroom and ans

Clinton’s POVI try to run to Catherine, but my body betrays me in the most dramatic way possible. My brain screams MOVE, but my leg just… doesn’t.And then the pain hits.Sharp. Hot. Blinding.Right in the exact spot where that bastard shot me.A hiss slips through my teeth as my hand flies to my chest, fingers digging into my shirt like squeezing harder might scare the pain away.“What did you put in that bullet?”Because this makes zero sense.Whenever I get hurt, it takes three… four days, max… and I’m good as new. Bones reset. Skin seals. Blood stops like it knows better than to disobey me.That’s how it has always been.That’s how it’s supposed to be.So why the hell is this pain still here?Why does it feel fresh?My breathing slows as something colder creeps in beneath the heat.This feels… wrong.I press harder against my chest, like I can force my body to cooperate.Heal.Do what you always do.But nothing happens.No warmth spreading beneath the skin. No dulling edge. Just

Clinton’s POVThe walls are grey concrete. The floor is wet and dirty. A single bulb hangs from the ceiling, swinging slowly, dragging long shadows across the room.I snap my fingers once.That’s all it takes.Richard nods and bends down, gripping the bucket filled with dirty water. The metal scrapes softly against the floor as he lifts it, then tips it forward.The water crashes over the man tied to the chair.He jerks violently, sucking in air like someone pulled from a grave. Water mixed with blood slides down his face, dripping from his chin onto the filthy floor. His cheeks are swollen and red, one eye nearly sealed shut.I later find out his name is Derrick.Right now, he’s just the bastard who tried to kill me.His chest heaves.He chokes.Coughs.Then his eyes snap open.The instant they land on me, his body locks up. His breathing halts for a second. His hands tremble against the ropes.Perfect.I tilt my head, watching him struggle to breathe. “Welcome back. I was starting t