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    Summary

    “It’s nothing,” Shane said quickly, turning back to his gear. “Just a bruise.”

    Hayden frowned. “Yeah, I can see that. How’d you get it?”

    Shane glanced around the room, something tense flickering across his face. “It’s just from practice,” he said. “Got grabbed weird. Happens all the time.”

    Hayden stared at him. That wasn’t a normal practice bruise. He’d been playing long enough to know the difference between a bruise from a check and something else entirely. This wasn’t scattered impact. It wasn’t accidental. It was deliberate. Five distinct marks. A grip. His stomach twisted.

    His mind started moving too fast, pieces clicking together in ways he didn’t like. “Yeah?” Hayden said slowly. “Who grabbed you like that?”

    ***

    Shane has a finger-shaped bruise on his arm. Hayden jumps to a horrifying conclusion.

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