All Chapters of Frozen Submission (M*M)Romance: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

217 Chapters

love in the Dark

**Chapter 133: Love in the Dark**I didn’t pretend to sleep much longer.Callan’s whispered words hung in the dim hospital room like smoke—thick, impossible to ignore. *I love you… I’d take every bullet again.* The link between us, even in its damaged state, had carried every ounce of his fear and devotion straight into my chest. My eyes burned as I slowly opened them.He was still there, slumped in the wheelchair pulled right up against my bed, forehead resting on our joined hands. The monitors painted his face in soft blues and greens. He looked exhausted, pain etched into the lines around his mouth, but the love was clearer than anything.“I’m awake,” I said softly.Callan’s head lifted sharply. For a second he looked exposed, vulnerable in a way captains aren’t supposed to be. Then his expression softened, and he didn’t pull away. “How long have you been listening?”“Long enough.” My voice cracked. I squeezed his hand, ignoring the IV tugging at my skin. “Every word.”Silence stre

suspended

**Chapter 134: Suspended**The league’s announcement hit like a slap shot to the chest.I stared at Elodie’s phone as she replayed the official statement. The commissioner’s voice sounded solemn and practiced: “…effective immediately, Brooks Walker and Callan Reyes are suspended indefinitely from all league activities pending the outcome of a full independent investigation into allegations of substance use, manipulation, and potential violations of league rules. Player safety remains paramount…”Callan sat beside me in his wheelchair, his good hand still wrapped around mine. Neither of us spoke while the statement played out. The link between us carried a heavy mix—grief, resignation, and underneath it all, that stubborn flame of defiance that had kept us alive this long.Suspended.The word tasted final. Hockey had been my life since I was old enough to hold a stick. For Callan, it was more than that. It was identity. Captain. Leader. The man who lived and breathed the game.When Elo

inside man

**Chapter 135: Inside Man**The USB drive sat on the rolling tray table like a live grenade.Tate looked smaller somehow as he sat between our beds, but the fire in his eyes made him seem ten feet tall. Callan and I stared at the small black device that could change everything. My heart hammered against my ribs, sending uneasy ripples through the damaged link. Callan’s steady presence anchored me.“Show us,” Callan said quietly.Tate plugged the drive into a secure laptop Elodie had brought in. The room lights were dimmed, door locked, two of Beck’s trusted security guys standing watch outside. No one was taking chances.“I didn’t get everything,” Tate warned as files populated the screen. “They kept me drugged part of the time and moved me between locations. But what I managed to copy… it’s big.”He opened the first folder.Bank records. Dozens of transactions. Shell companies funnelling money into league officials, medical staff, even some agents. My father’s name appeared repeatedl

final confrontation

**Chapter 136: Final Confrontation**The decision didn’t come easy.Callan argued against it for nearly an hour. The link between us crackled with his fear and protective fury. Tate offered to shadow me. Beck wanted to send armed security. Elodie warned about legal risks. But in the end, I knew I had to go alone.This was my father. My demon. My beginning.If there was any chance to end this cleanly, to pull the final thread that could unravel what remained of his power, I needed to face him without an audience he could use as leverage.“We record everything,” I said firmly, standing slowly beside my hospital bed. My legs still felt unsteady, but the new meds had dulled the worst of the tremors. “Hidden mic, backup on my phone. If he tries anything, the team knows exactly where I am.”Callan gripped my hand, his shoulder braced and bandaged. The pain he tried to hide still echoed through the link. “I hate this. You’re not fully recovered. He’s cornered and dangerous.”“I know.” I lean

No more illusion

**Chapter 137: No More Illusions**The hospital room door had barely closed behind me when Callan was there.He struggled up from the wheelchair, ignoring the sharp spike of pain that shot through the link, and pulled me against his chest with his good arm. I went willingly, burying my face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of him beneath the antiseptic hospital smell. The recording device was still warm against my skin. My father’s words echoed in my head like a death knell.*You were a tool, Brooks. I never loved you.*Callan didn’t speak at first. He just held me, his heart beating steady against mine. The damaged link between us flared—my pain crashing into his, his love wrapping around my grief like armor. For several long minutes, we stood there in the dim light, two broken men holding each other up.“I’ve got you,” he whispered finally. “Whatever happened, I’ve got you.”I pulled back just enough to look at him. His eyes were fierce, worried, full of tha

Everything Exposed

**Chapter 138: Everything Exposed**The hospital room glowed with the cold light of multiple screens.It was just after 4 a.m., but sleep was impossible. The syndicate had unleashed their final arsenal, and the world was burning because of it.Every major news network had wall-to-wall coverage. “Breaking: Full Syndicate Scandal Materials Released.” Social media had melted down. Our names—#WalkerReyes—were trending at number one globally, drowning under millions of posts, clips, and hot takes. I sat propped against the headboard, Callan beside me in the narrow hospital bed, our bodies pressed together as much as his injured shoulder and my IV lines allowed. The link between us was a live wire of shared disbelief and exhaustion.“They held back so much,” I whispered.On the TV, a prim anchor introduced yet another “exclusive” clip. It was raw footage from one of our worst withdrawal nights—me shaking violently while Callan held me, both of us half-delirious. The syndicate had edited it

public war

**Chapter 139: Public War**The hospital conference room had been transformed overnight.Hospital administration, under heavy pressure from the league and our legal team, cleared a large meeting space on the secured floor. Chairs for press. Cameras. Lights. A long table with two chairs for us. Security was everywhere—Beck’s people, hospital staff, even a few federal agents who had taken interest after Tate’s evidence and my father’s confession dropped.Callan and I prepared in our room.I helped him into a team hoodie—our team, the one that had stood by us. His shoulder was still heavily braced, arm in a sling. I wore something similar, though I looked paler, more fragile after the latest wave of withdrawal symptoms. The link between us hummed with shared nerves and determination. No more hiding. This was our stand.“You ready?” Callan asked, voice low as a nurse adjusted his pain meds for the event.“No,” I admitted. “But I’m doing it anyway.”He reached for my hand. “Together.”“Tog

seizure

**Chapter 140: Seizure**I woke up to chaos and Callan’s voice.The world returned in fragments—bright lights, urgent voices, the metallic taste of blood on my tongue where I’d bitten it. My body felt like it had been electrocuted. Every muscle ached. The link between us was a screaming storm of Callan’s terror and relief crashing against my own disorientation.“Brooks. Baby, I’m here. Stay with me.”His voice anchored me. I forced my eyes open. I was back in a hospital bed—different room, more machines, brighter lights. Callan sat right beside me in his wheelchair, leaning forward as far as his injured shoulder allowed, his good hand gripping mine so tightly it hurt. Tears tracked down his face. I’d never seen him cry like this.“You had a seizure,” he rasped. “Right there. On live television. In front of everyone. Your whole body… fuck, Brooks.”I tried to speak but my throat was raw. A nurse pressed a cup of water with a straw to my lips. I sipped gratefully, then looked back at Ca

Erase us

**Chapter 141: Erase Us**The choice hung over us like a guillotine.Callan and I lay in the dim hospital room long after the doctors left, the weight of their words pressing down on both of us. The experimental treatment. Stabilization. A real chance at normal life again—fewer seizures, fewer terrifying blank spots in my memory, less risk that my body would simply short-circuit one day.All it would cost was us.The link.I turned my head on the pillow to look at him. Callan stared at the ceiling, jaw tight, good hand still wrapped around mine. His shoulder was braced, face pale from pain and exhaustion, but it was the fear in his eyes that gutted me. Through the fraying connection I felt it all—his terror of losing me to brain damage, his even deeper terror of losing what we had become.“I don’t know how to do this without it,” I whispered.The link pulsed weakly between us, carrying fragments of memory and emotion like it always had. A flash of his warmth the night he first said he

choose love

**Chapter 142: Choose Love**The words hung between us in the pale dawn light.*I'd rather die than lose us.*Callan’s plea wasn’t dramatic or impulsive. It was raw, broken, and completely sincere. His hand trembled against my cheek. The link between us—frayed, scarred, but still ours—flooded with his truth. No hesitation. No noble self-sacrifice for my safety. Just love so deep he would rather face death together than live separately.I stared at him, tears burning my eyes, and felt something click into place inside my chest.“Okay,” I whispered.Callan’s breath caught. “Brooks…”“I’m saying okay.” I pressed my forehead to his, our noses brushing. “I choose you. I choose this—whatever this is, even if it’s messy and painful and might kill us both one day. I’d rather have five years feeling every part of you than fifty years wondering what we could have been.”A sob tore out of him. He pulled me closer with his good arm, ignoring the protest from his ruined shoulder. We clung to each

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