Seraphina attended the game the next day with Katella, Harper, and Emma.  She bought glass seats like she had last game and even though she and her sister were recognized by some of the Houston fans, who weren’t above calling them derogatory names as they walked through the stadium, they all held their heads high.  Seraphina felt her eyes pinch with unshed tears but she refused to let them fall.  Not in front of these people.  Not in front of her team.  She had to project strength and impassiveness even though she wanted nothing more than to break down and cry.

To be honest, she had no idea how Katella was keeping it together.  Currently, she was joking with Harper while taking a long swig of her overpriced water bottle.  Phil Bambridge ripped her a new one last night and Katella hadn’t even been involved in what happened.  She was furious that he would talk about Seraphina that way, just because she called him out on his misogynistic tendencies and said no to his advances, but to bring Katella into it, like she had anything to do with it, infuriated her even more.

And now, she had people attacking her like they knew her, like they had any idea what was going on.  The worst part about this whole thing was the fact that she couldn’t even come out with the entire truth about what had happened between her and Bambridge because she would look like a spiteful, vindictive bitch if she did.  Plus, she couldn’t prove anything because it was he-said, she-said.  He felt her up.  He didn’t leave a mark on her.  Even if she did, people wouldn’t believe her.  Why would they, when Phil Bambridge was attractive and charming and didn’t say things he should say?  Why was he allowed to be quirky and different and get praised for it when, if she had done the same thing, she would get ridiculed and criticized?

The girls headed to their seats while Seraphina decided to head to the locker room.  She had something she needed to say to the team.  She just needed to get a hold of her emotions first.

Seraphina took some deep breaths as she took the elevator down to the lower level.  The elevator attendant wouldn’t even look at her.  Perfect.  People judged her who didn’t even know her.  Nobody thought to even ask her for her side of the story.  Why would they?  Why would anyone believe her?  It was clear she was just some typical female immersed in a man’s world.  She had no other option but to either fall in love or act like a dumbass.

The problem was, technically, she had done both.  When she first inherited the team, she knew next to nothing about hockey.  She researched her butt off until she felt somewhat familiar with all the terminology and the sport – the history, the rules, the strategies, the positions, the attitudes, everything.

And then, she fell in love with her captain. It wasn't as though she tried; it just happened. He drew her to him with his stoic, brooding presence, his quiet demeanor. She was attracted to the fact that he didn't need to speak in order to prove anything. All he needed to do was let his skill speak for himself, and it did when he was nominated for the Vezna last year, despite their shitty season.

She remembered that night. She wound up attending the awards ceremony because her player was nominated. He hadn't taken anyone and neither had she but they had only spoken a few words - her congratulating him, him thanking her.

How could they have wasted so much time? She shook her head as she headed into the locker room. It didn't matter; they were together now and that was all that was important.

When she walked in, the players turned to look at her. She paused, suddenly stricken by their probing gazes. And then, someone started to clap. Seraphina didn't know who it was but soon everyone was clapping and she climbed onto the bench so she could be seen with ease. She managed to find Brandon, looking good in his tan suit and somewhat brushed hair. He wouldn't be playing tonight because of his injury so Jimmy Stafford was suited up and they had to fly in a backup for Stafford from their Irvine AHL team. He gave her a small smile, causing her heart to flutter. He didn't say much but she knew he supported her, that he stood behind her, no matter what.

"Um, thanks?" she said, cocking her head once everyone had finished clapping. "If we are clapping for anyone, it should be Katella. She didn't deserve any of what Bambridge was spewing last night. Also Harper.” Her eyes found Zach’s and she pushed her brows up, letting him know just how impressed she was with him. “She was a badass and held her ground with Bambridge. I’m glad she’s in our corner. Not to put you on blast or anything, but don’t fuck that up.”

“Trust me, I know,” Zach said with his usual boyish smile.

Her eyes found Negan and she saw how black his eyes were, how his teeth were clenched together, how his entire body was rigid with fury. Even though it had nearly been twenty-four hours and he had seen her since then, Seraphina could tell how angry he was with what happened. Hell, she was too.

"I'm here because as I'm sure you already know, Phil Bambridge is a liar," she said. "I definitely don't sleep with people to get players and there was no bone in my body that wanted to sleep with him, out of all people. I don't want this to take away what our focus is and should be about - winning and getting to playoffs. That's my concern."

"What happened between you and Bambridge?" somebody asked. Seraphina wasn't able to see who.

"That's no one’s business," Brandon said before she could answer.

Seraphina restrained herself from giving Brandon a look that said she could handle herself. He was just trying to protect her.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said gently. “What matters is, none of it is true.”

“We know that,” Alec Schumacher said, first line winger with Zachary Ryan and Kyle Underwood. “But we want to know if you’re okay. If anything happened, Seraphina, you could always file a police report, just to get something documented.”

Seraphina smiled brightly at Alec. He had changed so much over the years. The two of them were roughly the same age and she remembered when her grandfather used to take her and her sister to his Triple A hockey games, back when the three of them were in high school. Katella had a little crush on him, despite the fact that she was a couple of years older than he was and typically had a thing for older guys. He was charming and good looking with dark blond hair and blue eyes – very Southern California-esque – but he had a reputation of dating supermodels and Gulls Girls and never had a steady girlfriend. When Katella told her he wouldn’t be bringing a plus one to the AllStar Auction last month, Seraphina was surprised. In fact, now that she thought about it, he hadn’t been seen with anyone in a year. Hell, he hadn’t even been flirting with any Girls.

Katella thought this meant he was dating someone – probably a Girl – but Seraphina wasn’t too sure. Everyone knew the rule about dating – A rule you’re breaking yourself if you’re with Brandon Thorpe, a voice pointed out – and how players and Gulls Girls weren’t allowed to socialize outside the ice rink. He was also getting older and that could mean he was getting more mature.

“Yeah, I’d rather not get that involved with this,” she said. “Plus, if I did file a police report, the public would be able to get a hold of it and that’s the last thing I want.”

Drew Stefano, second line winger and the fastest skater on the team tentatively raised his hand. “Actually, that isn’t true,” he said. “I majored in Criminology at the University of Michigan while I was there and interned at a police department. Police reports aren’t actually public record. Certain things are, yes, like date, time, location, but what actually happened and personal identifiers don’t have to be released by the department if that’s their policy.”

Seraphina nodded. Drew Stefano was one of the few skaters on the team that chose to attend college after being drafted by Edmonton. He was short, five foot nine, but lean and muscled, with olive skin, dark eyes and brown hair. Very Italian. He had speed and had the most short-handed goals in the league – five for now.

“Good to know,” she said. “I could totally see Bambridge grabbing a copy and making it public record by turning it over to the media or some other bullshit like that.”

“Are you all right?” Dimitri Petrov’s voice came from the back of the crowd, and when Seraphina looked at him, her heart did a little flip. He was too beautiful for his own good. It made no sense why his wife was leaving him – when she was the one who cheated on him in the first place! They had been married for ten years, with two children, seven and four. Seraphina hated that their family was broken up because of her poor decisions and her selfishness. Dimitri was one of the most loyal hockey players she had ever known. His ex-wife was lucky to have him.

“Yeah, actually,” Seraphina said with a nod of her head. “I am. I just want to tell you that tonight and every night, actually, the game isn’t about me. Teams – especially teams that are clamoring for a playoff spot just like we are or teams that definitely won’t make playoffs and are bitter about it – will do anything they can to prevent us from winning the game. If they’re going down, they’re going down swinging and they’re going to try and take out as many of us as they can.” She began to make eye contact with each player. “Don’t let them take you down. Don’t let them take you out. We are so close, guys. We are so close to a playoff spot that I can taste it. Can’t you?”

The team nodded their heads. Some chose to remain still preferring to listen rather than respond.

“They are going to do and say whatever they can to try and get you off the ice,” Seraphina continued. “They could talk about your mothers and sisters, your girlfriends and your wives. They could say the worst kind of things you do not want to hear about them because they’re trying to get a reaction out of you. See, I always thought that there were lines of the code of hockey and fighting. But when a team gets desperate, there aren’t. Kind of like real life. Recognize it for what it is but don’t engage.

“The only exception to that is if you’re fighting as part of a strategy. Don’t let some fourth-line goon get you off the ice for five minutes. If you’re trying to take out a skilled player or if you’re trying to send a message because some asshole checks Onni and the hit is maybe too high, by all means, go for it.”

A couple of the players chuckled and Zachary Ryan nudged the young defenseman with his shoulder.

“They’re going to try,” Seraphina said seriously. “Especially with what happened with Brandon. Phil Bambridge is an idiot. Stevens was running his mouth and Brandon did something about it. I mean, how kickass is that, that our goalie got into fight? Maybe soon, he’ll get a Gordie Howe hat trick.”

More chuckles and Alec Schumacher whistled.

“I want what’s best for the team,” she said, a smile on her face. “And that means not letting these assholes get under your skin. And they’ll try. Just do what you need to do. You don’t have to prove anything. Your skill already does that. We have arguably one of the best teams in the league. Sure, it’s been a struggle to actually get where we are now, but who cares? We’re here, and that’s because of the effort you all put in day in, day out. Whether you’re working out in the off-season and skating during the summer, whether you’re swearing off alcohol or partying or whatever, you’re making sacrifices for the team. I am so proud of our group here and I don’t want you to think you need to defend me or my sister or anyone for that matter. This isn’t about us. It’s about you. So go out there and play on. That’s it. Play. And win. The best revenge is making playoffs and proving them wrong. Okay?”

“You guys can do this,” Brandon said, stepping forward. He rarely spoke so the crowd was surprised. “We can do this. Go out there and win. What do you say?”

So they did.