SHATTERED

  BAYSIDE BOLTS BOOK ONE

  SOPHIA BELLE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2025 by Sophia Belle

  Cover design by hercozycreative.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  No part of this book was created using AI, nor does the author give permission to use any part of this book for AI testing.

  For those who refuse to stay shattered and live in the dark anymore…your light is waiting for you.

  Until then, Knox can be your light too.

  SO MUCH GRATITUDE…

  If you are reading this, then thank you. Every flip of a Kindle page, every mention of my book to a friend, every share, review, or post on social media, and every purchase of one of my books means more to me than you can ever imagine.

  Readers are the backbone of any author, and without your support, I couldn’t be doing what I love and sharing these characters in my head who are constantly wanting to be heard.

  To my family and friends…your love and support mean more to me than you know. You are my safe space to vent when life gets too hectic and first to celebrate my wins. I love you.

  Special thanks to my beta readers—Stephanie, Jillian, Nicole, Brooke, and Kristina, my ARC team, and my content team. I don’t know what I would do without you all. You put a smile on my face every day with either a DM or just a kind word about my books that I’m tagged in. I will be forever grateful for all the hype you give my books and for loving my characters and stories as I do.

  Another special thanks to Amanda at Her Cozy Creations. You brought my cover to life, and I couldn’t love what you created any more than I already do. I adored working with you, and I look forward to doing more together in the future.

  Last but not least, I want to thank the beautiful book community I have found. I have met some amazing people whom I’m lucky enough to call my friends. From indie authors to readers—your DMs, group chats, and invaluable laughs and support keep me sane.

  I adore you all and promise to keep bringing swoon-worthy book boyfriends for as long as I can.

  xoxo,

  Sophia

  CONTENTS

  Also by Sophia Belle

  Trigger Warnings

  Shattered Playlist

  Chapter 1

  Knox

  Chapter 2

  Savi

  Chapter 3

  Knox

  Chapter 4

  Savi

  Chapter 5

  Knox

  Chapter 6

  Savi

  Chapter 7

  Knox

  Chapter 8

  Savi

  Chapter 9

  Knox

  Chapter 10

  Savi

  Chapter 11

  Knox

  Chapter 12

  Savi

  Chapter 13

  Knox

  Chapter 14

  Savi

  Chapter 15

  Knox

  Chapter 16

  Savi

  Chapter 17

  Knox

  Chapter 18

  Savi

  Chapter 19

  Knox

  Chapter 20

  Knox

  Chapter 21

  Savi

  Chapter 22

  Knox

  Chapter 23

  Savi

  Chapter 24

  Knox

  Chapter 25

  Savi

  Chapter 26

  Knox

  Chapter 27

  Savi

  Chapter 28

  Knox

  Chapter 29

  Savi

  Chapter 30

  Knox

  Chapter 31

  Savi

  Chapter 32

  Knox

  Chapter 33

  Savi

  Chapter 34

  Knox

  Chapter 35

  Savi

  Chapter 36

  Knox

  Chapter 37

  Savi

  Chapter 38

  Knox

  Chapter 39

  Savi

  Chapter 40

  Knox

  Chapter 41

  Savi

  Chapter 42

  Knox

  Chapter 43

  Savi

  About the Author

  ALSO BY SOPHIA BELLE

  The Connected Series

  Connected by Souls - Noah Emma

  Connected by Stars - Maverick Bella

  Connected by Love - Travis Sophia

  Connected by Christmas - A Connected Series Novella

  The Montgomery Brothers Series

  Unbreak Me - Ryder Eve

  Saving Me - Jake Lyla

  Play for Me - Miles Olivia

  The Bayside Bolts Series

  Shattered - Knox Savi

  TRIGGER WARNINGS

  This book contains mature, consensual sexual content, dirty talk, praise, and language. Intended for ages 18 and over.

  Possible triggers that are mentioned:

  * Past sexual assault of a minor (age 15) (non-graphic, off-page)

  * Brief on-page flashback leading up to the assault and the discovery of the assault (non-sexual)

  * Childhood physical and emotional abuse (off-page)

  * Alcoholic parent (off-page)

  * Death of a parent (mentioned briefly)

  * Trauma recovery/healing themes

  SHATTERED PLAYLIST

  Addicted to the Pain - velvet desires

  All That’s Left of Me - Chris Moreno

  Babygirl - DVRKTHORN

  Bonfire - I Needed This Dave

  Bring Me To Life - Satin Puppets, Nxghtshade, Brian H. Kim

  Carry You Home - Georgia Phantom

  Claim You Tonight - velvet desires

  Devil’s Dance - starletste_official

  Grace - Jelly Roll

  Grey Sweatpants - Ruby Darkrose

  Hell or High Water - Bailey Zimmerman

  I Didn’t Ask For This - Beth Crowley

  I Know You - Skylar Grey

  Legends Are Made - Sam Tinnesz

  Let The Sins Fall - velvet desires

  Ready to Play - Club Danger

  Red Lipstick - ORGAVSM

  Villain in Love - Celestial Tunes

  The Way I Wanna - Max McNown

  If you can’t find me in the dark, you’ll never see me in the light. Souls know each other beyond sight.

  MELODY LEE

  ONE

  KNOX

  The heavy scent of perfume hits me, and I wrinkle my nose in disgust. It’s always the same smell, just a different body…exotic florals mixed with a dose of regret and bad decisions.

  Sunlight streams into the hotel window, causing me to wince from the daggers shooting through my skull as I fling the bed sheet back and go in search of some clothes.

  Going out with the team last night, on the day before practice season starts, wasn’t one of my top five best decisions. When they put me in a group text and kept adding me whenever I would duck out, I finally caved just to shut them the fuck up.

  Being the team captain, I felt I owed it to them to at least socialize on a more personal level since I’m brand new to the team. Trust off the ice is just as important as on and can make or break a season.

  Luckily, I’ve got a good relationship with most of them from playing together in the past or getting to know them through the kid camps I help fund. There are only a couple I need to work through some shit with, and last night was a good start.

  Rummaging through my suitcase, I find a pair of grey sweats and throw them on. Running my fingers through my unruly head of dark blond hair, I go in search of some coffee.

  Fuck, do I need some coffee.

  I get a flash of auburn hair buried under the covers as I walk past the king-sized bed and into the other room, where the small kitchen is.

  Reaching for the expensive-looking water the hotel supplied me, I pour it into the espresso machine and start brewing my cup. I don’t bother keeping quiet, hoping that my company will take the hint that our fun is over, and it’s time to wake up and leave.

  Yeah, I’m that asshole.

  Popping two Motrin, I grab my freshly brewed coffee and wash the pills down before walking across the gleaming white-tiled floors toward the balcony doors. The warm, salty air hits me as soon as I step outside and take a deep inhale.

  It’s a far cry from my New York view as I take in the beautiful ocean before me. Part of me is happy to be back home in Florida, and the other half of me is terrified the demons of my past will find a way to suffocate me here.

  The click of heels behind me causes me to turn toward the sound. Melanie, or at least I think her name is Melanie, is walking my way. She’s dressed in her same tight green dress from last night, and I watch the gleam in her eyes appear when she sees the view.

  When you’ve played hockey for as long as I have, it doesn’t take long to recognize a puck bunny when you see one. They show up dressed to the nines in outfits barely covering their asses, with either dollar signs in their eyes or just
simply wanting bragging rights and a story to tell all of their friends.

  Either way, I couldn’t care less. They are a means to an end for me, and since they are so willing to be a body for a night, nobody gets hurt in the process when I send them home the next morning.

  “God, this view is amazing. This place must have cost you a fortune for the night.” She runs her manicured finger along the plush outdoor furniture that surrounds a glass fire table. “We didn’t even get to enjoy the jacuzzi,” she pouts as her gaze takes in the big hot tub in the corner.

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I lean against the glass railing and take another sip of my coffee. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a beautiful girl with a great body, but that’s where it ends for me. My heart is too cold, I guess, to feel anything more.

  “We could have a replay of last night,” she says, closing the distance between us. Her fingers skim across the tattoos covering my chest, and I feel…absolutely nothing. “Try out the hot tub…maybe order some room service for breakfast?”

  “I’ve got practice in an hour.” I step out of her grasp and walk back towards the room. “I’ll get you an Uber,” I say, not bothering to glance back at her. There’s no reason to give her any hope that we will be doing this again.

  She’s got her story to tell, and I got another night to help me forget.

  This.

  This is what I was born to do.

  My blades slice through the ice with speed, causing bits of crystals to fly at my ankles. Sweat drips down my face, and my legs burn like the fires of hell as I do another set of drills with my team racing down the length of the rink to snatch the loose puck.

  My stick touches first, and I easily maneuver it without breaking stride as I hone in on the net. Cayden Blade is a damn good goalie, but I’ve studied him enough through the years to know his weakness.

  Going for the shot, I go hard and low, flicking my wrist at the last minute, landing the puck at the top right corner instead.

  “Fuck,” I hear him mutter as it lands behind the red line.

  Grinning, I angle around and ice him with my skates as I abruptly stop in front of him.

  “Gets you every time,” I chuckle. “Thought we’ve played against each other enough that you would have learned my moves by now.”

  “You are one of the few who ever gets past me.” He flips his face mask up onto his head, and his green eyes dance with laughter. “Maybe I was just trying to kiss the captain’s ass on the first day.”

  “Or maybe,” I say, skating backwards with a grin, “you still can’t track my pucks thrown your way.”

  I laugh at his eye roll as I turn and skate to the bench where the rest of the team is gathered with Coach Goldman. He’s a retired NHL player and has been coaching the Bayside Bolts for the past five years. I respect the hell out of him and couldn’t be more excited to play for him this year.

  “Good first day,” he says, looking over his notes. His dark reading glasses are perched on his nose as he scans the paper. “I’ll be addressing some of you individually on what you need to work on in the coming weeks. We’ve got some new faces this season, our team captain being one of them.” He looks up from his notepad and smiles at me before looking around and eyeing the rest of the team. “You all can learn a lot from Stone. I’ve been in the NHL a long time, and he’s one of the best I’ve seen. We are lucky to have him, and I expect you to listen when he offers you his help or guidance.”

  “Hear that, McCormick?” I hear our left winger, Jett Hayes, call out, and all the guys chuckle.

  I guess now is as good a time as any to step into the captain role. Coach’s eyes are on me, and I know what he wants to hear.

  “I know McCormick and I have a history. It’s a known fact he’s tried to get the upper hand on the ice with me.” I put emphasis on the word ‘tried,’ because I can’t help but get a small dig in. I’ve spent more time in the penalty box because of this kid, and I plan on making him sweat a bit because of it.

  He’s young, but he reminds me of myself more than I care to admit. Unlike some of these players, he doesn’t just love to play hockey. He lives and breathes it like it’s the only thing worth living for. It’s his life, and I know that feeling all too well of clinging to something so hard to keep you afloat from drowning.

  McCormick glares at me, but remains quiet, which gives me hope that he wants to learn just as badly as I want to teach him.

  “But,” I say, quieting the snickers down as I focus on Thane McCormick. “He’s one of my teammates now, and the past stays in the past. We leave all of that behind right here and now. I don’t take being your captain lightly,” I say, looking around at the ones I’ll be closest to for the next few months. “You guys are my brothers now, on or off the ice. If…no, when we get that Stanley this year, we leave our egos at the door. On the ice, we are one mind with one goal…kick some ass and get that puck across the red line.” I grin as sticks start hitting the ice and the energy shifts into a haze of excitement.

  I hold my glove out to McCormick, and it doesn’t take long before he’s knocking it against mine. Yeah, he wants the cup this year just as badly as I do.

  Coach claps me on the back as the guys excitedly get amped up. I grip my stick and feel the rush of this sport sifting through my veins.

  God, I fucking love it.

  “Okay, boys,” Coach says, taking his glasses off and sliding them into the front collar of his shirt. “That’s it for today. Get your smelly asses in the shower, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I move to follow the rest of the team, but Coach stops me.

  “You did good, Stone. I knew you were a damn good hockey player, but there’s a reason you were the New York Devils’ captain for so long. The guys listen when you speak and respect you. You were made to be a leader.”

  “Thanks, Coach. I’ll do everything I can to lead us to the final win this season.” I look him in the eyes and mean every damn word.

  “I have no doubt you will,” he grins. “Let’s bring that fucking cup home.”

  “It’s as good as ours,” I smile broadly as I head to the locker room.

  There are few things in life that bring a smile to my face, and this sport is one of them.

  I remember the feeling I got the first time I put on skates. It was one of my earliest memories of my mom. I was four years old, and she took me to the mall to do some Christmas shopping. They had an ice skating rink on the lower level, and on that day, a few hockey players were teaching some kids to skate.

  I stood there mesmerized as I watched the players move down the ice and pass the puck to one another with such skill that I had a hard time keeping up with the round black object.

  I guess my mom could tell by the look in my eyes that I was watching something that would change my life forever. She took my hand and signed me up for the hour-long class right there on the spot.

  The memory is still so vivid in my mind—the way my heart started racing when she helped me put on the rental skates and how the stick felt in my hand when one of the hockey players handed it to me.

  The gear they loaned me was too big, and the helmet felt too small, but I didn’t care. I spent the whole hour getting bruised with each fall I took, determined to learn as much as I could possibly soak in while I was there.

  The ice time was over far too soon, and I was nowhere near ready to leave. I wanted so much more. I could have spent the whole day there if they had let me.