All Chapters of Pucking Forbidden Claim: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Rook POVI grip the wheel tighter, my jaw clenched as I pull onto the highway, but my mind is still in that fucking locker room. My body aches, not from playing hard, but from playing like shit. I had no rhythm, no edge, no fucking fight in me, and everyone saw it. I couldn’t even pretend I was fine.I should go home. I should go back, shower off the loss, sleep off the weight pressing against my ribs, and move the fuck on. That’s what I’d normally do.But I know that if I go back, if I lay in that massive, empty bed, I’ll think about him. I’ll think about how his body felt against mine when we woke up yesterday, how he was warm and steady and mine, even if neither of us said it out loud. I’ll think about how, for once, I actually fucking believed I could have something real.And then I’ll remember the way he looked at me when I didn’t answer him. When he knew.My fingers flex around the wheel as I exhale through my nose. I need something else. Something that will pull me out of this.

Kade POVGritting my teeth, I scroll through my contacts until I find another name, one I shouldn’t be calling.After a few rings, the call picks up.“Mercer?”“Yeah, it’s me.” My voice is steady, cold, sharper than I feel inside. “The next game, what are the rules? You haven’t been in touch, and I need to know in time.”I shouldn’t be doing this. I know that. But right now, I need something, some kind of connection back to Rook. And if the only way to get that is through his father, through Nikolai, then fuck it.A loud sigh comes through the line. “Mercer, forget the deal we had.”I freeze. ”What?" My grip on the phone tightens. “That’s a joke, right? What the hell is going on? There’s no way you’d suddenly stop blackmailing me, unless Rook told you to.” My stomach twists. “Which means Rook did care, but he sure as fuck didn’t act like it.”Maybe I’m grasping at anything. Maybe I just need an explanation for why everyone suddenly seems content to leave me behind.“Rook hasn’t said s

Kade POVMy eyes flicker down and I see the body, what the fuck am I doing? I try to push him off, but he pins me harder, his hips moving quick.“You don’t fucking own me anymore. You can’t do this,” I growl.He chuckles darkly, biting my neck, and thrusting deeper. I groan and give in. “You still think you’re the main character in your own story, don’t you, Mercer?” Rook breathes against my lips, his voice dark, mocking. “That’s cute. You were written out the moment you let me inside you. You don’t exist without me now.” His hands tighten as his hips snap forward, pressing me harder against the wall. “And you fucking love it.”A sharp, guttural sound escapes me, half a groan, half a curse. “You’re so full of shit.”His teeth scrape my jaw as he exhales a rough laugh. “Then tell me to stop.”I should. I should tell him to fuck off, to walk away, to leave me the fuck alone.But I don’t, because I hate him. And I need him, and he fucking knows it.I was fucking stupid for thinking that

Rook POVI start slow, warming up, letting my body fall into the familiar movements. The first few drills are routine, the motions automatic, but it’s not enough. My muscles are still tight, my mind still fucking stuck, frustration sitting heavy in my chest like a weight I can’t shake.I push harder, skating faster, my stick slamming against the puck as I fire off shot after shot. The first few go wide. Too fucking wide. I grit my teeth, adjust, force my focus back to where it needs to be.This is what I do. This is who the fuck I am. I don’t fuck up. I don’t hesitate. I don’t let shit get to me.And yet, my grip tightens on the stick as my mind flickers back, Kade’s face last night, the way his breath hitched, the way his hands trembled before they balled into fists. The way his eyes, even filled with rage, still fucking saw me.The snap of my wrist as I take the next shot is harder than it needs to be, the puck slamming into the back of the net with a sharp, satisfying clang. My bre

Kade POVThe locker room feels suffocating. I’m still in my gear. My gloves and skates are off but everything else untouched, sitting there waiting for the inevitable. Any second now, someone from the league is going to storm in and demand answers, and I’ll have to sit there, listening to them decide my fate like I’m just another problem they need to clean up.The worst part is, my teammates aren’t saying shit. I can feel their stares, hear their low whispers, but no one’s asking me anything. Maybe they don’t know how. Maybe they’re waiting for me to just explain myself, like I owe them that after the shitshow that just unfolded.But I don’t care about any of them. I don’t care about the game. I don’t care about the suspension I know is coming.All I care about is the fact that Rook did this to me.That he put those fucking images up there, made sure the entire world knew I was his, like I was some prized possession he wanted to flaunt.I grip the edge of the bench so hard my fingers