Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
“Fuck!” I slam my gloved fist into the wall. In a fury of anger and hurt, I spin around and swipe my hand out, knocking my backpack off the bench. I pull my gloves off and slam them to the floor.
“Easy man,” Finch says. “We don’t need any broken bones right before the game.”
“Why the hell did he come here?” I roar. “Why the hell does he always fucking come here?”
Finch jumps up, already on defense for me. “Who? Kamden? I’ll beat his fucking ass right now.”
With my hands pressed to the wall, I turn a look at him and crack a smile. Finch is the last person in the world who would ever initiate a fight. Not only is he a string bean, he’s got the empathy of an elephant—and a heart the size of one, too.
“My dad,” I spit out, immediately wondering why I even called him that. He’s not a dad to me. He never even gave me the opportunity to give him that title.
“Holy shit. He’s here?” His eyes widen and look around as if he is going to find him standing in the locker room with us.
I blow out a heavy breath and push myself off the wall. “Yeah, he’s here. He comes to every fucking game then leaves without saying a word to me.”
“Maybe he’s just proud of his son and wants to watch him play.” Finch shrugs, as if it could be that simple.
I shake my head. “The man hasn’t shown up to anything my entire life. Then all of a sudden I have an opportunity to do something big and he just appears. It doesn’t make any sense.”
Finch walks over to me, his brows pinching. “Have you thought about just asking him?”
“Oh yeah.” My tone is laced with sarcasm. “Hey, old man. I haven't seen you since I bashed you and your son’s heads together at my mom’s funeral, but I was wondering if you could tell me why you come to all my games.”
“Oh fuck,” Finch slaps a hand to his mouth, sputtering a laugh. “You did that?”
“I did. Then, Kamden called the cops on me and I was taken out of the church in cuffs while they got cared for by the medics. Apparently our dad decided not to press charges so I was let go almost immediately. I haven’t talked to the old man since then.”
“Damn, Hayes. I had no idea.” I never talk about any of this stuff, but ever since Brogan walked away from me like I broke her heart, I can’t seem to stop feeling these… feelings . It’s awful. I was already on a hairpin but now it’s like every little thing sets me off and all I want is her by my side to make things feel less volatile.
“No one did. Doesn’t matter, though. Nothing I did, or didn’t do, could bring her back, or change how everything went down.”
Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m opening up like this. I guess Brogan really has changed me.
“Have you ever thought about just talking to him?” Finch says hesitantly. “I mean, it could be good for you to tell him how you feel. You don’t have to do it looking for a response. Just get this off your chest, man.”
“I don’t know,” I shrug lazily before raising my voice to a more buoyant note. “What I do know is we need to get back out there and win this fucking game.”
“Hell to the yeah,” Finch roars as he pats his hand on my shoulder and leads me back to the ice.
The first period rolled through without fail. We fucking dominated the ice. After snagging a saucer pass from Finch, I glided past our opponents defenseman and scored the first goal of the night.
I’ve had a few hiccups because my mind was elsewhere and my hand still hurts like a bitch. All I can fucking think about is how badly I miss Brogan. It’s been over a week since we’ve talked and she won’t answer any of my calls. I doubt she made it out tonight, but I imagined she was here and I played hard just for her.
As we headed into the second period, we were leading the Norsemen 2-1. It wasn’t until the third period that we got a little too cocky and tied the game, but my winning goal at the end sealed our success.
They played hard, but we played harder and we claimed victory, once again.
Walking out of the locker room with my backpack flung over my shoulder, I lift my eyes to find Christian Donnelly, aka my dad, gaping at the glass case of trophies the Devils won over the years. He’s wearing a black business suit and shiny black shoes that probably cost more than my bike.
Letting my backpack slide off my shoulder, it falls to my feet. I leave it there as I walk toward the old man with heavy steps. “Take note of the national championship trophy from last year, I won that one for the team. How many of those has Kamden won?”I rub it in just a little, hoping regret stews inside him.
He spins around and we come face to face for the first time in four years. He’s grayer than the last time I saw him. And when he smiles, the deep creases in the corners of his eyes show his age.
“Hayes,” he beams. I hate the way he says my name, as if he has the right to use it. My mom gave me this name. The woman whose addiction he enabled. The addiction he can no longer feed, because she’s dead.
“That was a great game tonight, Son.”
“Don’t call me that,” I grit out. “I’m not your son.”
His expression drops and he tilts his head slightly. “Look, Hayes,” he begins and I’m tempted to rip his fucking tongue out if he says my name one more time. “I know our relationship has been rocky?—”
I hold a hand up. “Stop right there. We don’t have a relationship. Never have, and never will. In case you’ve forgotten, you ran out on us, forgoing that opportunity.”
“I’d love more than anything to change that, if it’s not too late. There is just so much you don’t understand, Hayes.” He looks at me with pity and it only makes my anger with him triple.
“God damn, stop saying my name!” I raise my voice as people come and go around us, but I don’t give a damn. “Stop fucking talking!”
He falls silent, appearing stunned by my outburst. I take a second to calm myself down. With a low, but stern voice, I say, “I spent my childhood unsure if my dad was dead or not. I hoped and prayed he was alive and that one day he’d show up and save my mom from the life of addiction—saving me in the process. Then, I saw you one day. You were giving my mom a handful of cash, and without a word to me, you left.”
I try not to think about the pain I caused when I found out who he was and how little I meant to him at that moment.
“A few minutes later, she ran out to do some errands and when she returned, she was high as a fucking kite. The next month, the same thing. Over and fucking over until I finally asked her who you were and she told me the truth. That you were my dad. But you didn't come to rescue us…”
His brows are pinched, his head tilted to the side like he’s confused. “But I did, Hayes.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I shout. “You didn’t come to rescue us. You came out of pity and gave my mom what she wanted, but didn’t need. You paid for the habit that killed her.”
“I paid child support, damnit!” His voice raises, surprising me so much I take a step back. “I didn’t even know you existed until days before I showed up the first time. I came for you, Hayes. I wanted to know you, I wanted your brother to know you. But she wouldn’t allow it.”
No. He’s lying. My mom told me he ran out on us when I was an infant. She said he didn’t want the responsibility of a child. He’s lying.
“The first day of every month I came back, asking to see my son but each time she told me no. She was afraid I might take you away from her. And I didn’t know until the end that your mom needed help. If I had, I would have helped her. I did what I could—what she would allow—and I’m sorry it wasn’t enough.”
I shake my head, not willing to believe anything he says. “You’re lying.”
He puts his hands in his pockets with a sigh. “Ask your Aunt Kelly. She’ll tell you everything I’m saying is the truth.”
“I can’t deal with this right now,” I mutter as I spin around and head back to where my backpack is lying on the floor.
“Kamden wanted to press charges for his broken nose, but I was able to convince him not to.”
I don’t turn around as I say, “you expect me to thank you for that?”
“Not at all. I just wanted you to know.”
Bending down, I snatch my backpack off the floor. “And now I know.”
I’m walking away when his voice travels behind me. “When I first learned I had another son, I wanted more than anything to raise my boys together so they could grow up close, like I did with my brother—your uncle.”
Shaking my head, I keep my intent forward and away from him. “Never gonna happen, old man.”
I keep walking, and he keeps talking.
“I’ve come to realize that may never happen with you and Kamden, and I can accept that. But I was hoping you and I?—”
“Also not gonna happen.” I turn around, cutting him off before he wastes his breath as I pin him with a glare. He nods, sorrow falling over his face but I don’t care. It’s nothing compared to the hurt I felt every month he came to see my mom and made everything worse for us both. I spin away again, but before I can walk out, he’s talking.
“Think about it. And talk to your Aunt Kelly.” His voice grows distant as I approach the door, but I can still hear him. “I’m at every home game if you ever want to talk.”
I push open the doors and step out, leaving him somewhere behind me where he belongs.
I’ve gotta go get my girl back.