Chapter 13 Liam
Liam
Ace, it turns out, is as big a draw as Kenji, because every player joined. Even Damon stopped to say, “Hi.” Maddie’s relief was palpable, and Ace enjoyed every minute of the attention, tail wagging non-stop in delight.
She wasn’t as hands-on in today’s class, and she avoided Bell’s side of the room completely.
I know she can take care of herself, but I can’t help but feel the need to shield her from his attentions.
So, I’m glad she’s staying away from him.
Besides, it’s never a bad day if I get to see Madison in yoga gear.
I’ve become a huge fan of tight yoga pants.
I took Ace for his first run this morning, and he behaved beautifully. He had no problem keeping up and even pushed me near the end. I’m positive this wasn’t his first experience running with a human partner.
What did take me by surprise during my run was the audiobook that Madison recommended.
I knew I was in for a ride just from her gleeful expression as she announced it was a hockey romance.
She was far too smug. But the story was entertaining, and the banter had me laughing out loud.
I’m still not sure why anyone would eat baloney, especially before a game, but hey, I don’t want to yuck on anyone’s yum. I just can’t stomach the stuff myself.
The real shocker was the discussions the women in the book were having.
Is this what women really discuss with each other?
They’re so open. About everything. And I mean everything.
It was eye-opening. I thought about asking Mads, but honestly, I’m a little scared of the answer.
My face is on fire from more than my exertion. Thank goodness I’m wearing headphones.
The male main character’s story is hitting way too close to home, though.
He’s captain of his hockey team, and he’s been in love with the female character for years, but she’s dating someone else.
Sound familiar? Now, I can’t wait to see where this story goes.
Who knows, maybe I’ll get some ideas? I’ll be paying attention since Maddie said this book was a favorite.
“She just ignored me. She’s probably a dyke anyway.
” Karl’s gruff voice carries to the hall outside the locker room.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. He’s such a fucking dick.
It couldn’t possibly be because you’re a douchebag, could it, Karl?
A married douchebag. I’ve met his wife, and she’s super sweet.
No idea how she puts up with him. “Now that dog is gonna to be here too. What the hell is that all about?”
Wait... What? Is he talking about Madison?
I storm through the locker room door. I’m across the room and ready to confront him when I see that Walker’s beaten me to it.
He’s already shoving Bells against the locker.
Walker is taller and fitter, but Karl’s a dirty fighter.
I step up behind Walker, making my position clear.
“That’s my sister, dickbag. You’ve got two seconds to shut the fuck up or we’re gonna have a problem.” Crap. She didn’t want anyone to know. Oh well, the rookies knew already, so it’s not like it was a secret.
“You’re such a sexist prick. If a woman’s not into you, it’s because she’s smart enough to stay away. It’s got nothing to do with her sexuality. Besides, aren’t you fucking married?” Walker’s invading his personal space like it’s his job, fisting his shirt.
Karl puffs out his chest, red-faced, shifty eyes flashing with anger as he scans the room.
If he’s looking for support, he won’t get it.
His face is priceless as it occurs to him that no one is rushing to support him.
I don’t hide my derision. The urge to punch him is so bad I have to hold my hands to my sides to stop myself.
As captain, I’m not allowed this kind of behavior.
“Jeez, I’m just joking, man. Relax.” He holds his hands up in surrender.
God, he’s such a dick. I notice that Karl never answers the marital question.
I wonder what’s up there? Is it wrong that I hope his wife divorces him and finds someone better?
Yeah, probably, but I don’t even feel bad about it.
Our assistant coach, Phil, opens the door and shouts that we have ten minutes left until practice.
It breaks the tension, and Walker releases Karl’s practice jersey with a frustrated huff.
I take a deep breath, searching for calm.
I can’t carry this over into our practice.
Walker gives Karl one last scathing look before returning to his locker to finish dressing for practice.
He’s having a harder time letting go of his frustration. I don’t blame him.
Karl’s been a pain in everyone’s ass since training started.
He tries to undermine me at every opportunity.
In the past, I’ve held my temper, but it’s been a near thing sometimes, especially when he goes after the rookies, but not anymore.
I’ve been on him daily about his shitty behavior because we don’t need a serious injury right before the season even begins.
We’ve got some talented rookies thanks to Damon’s trading prowess.
I won’t let Karl ruin a potentially successful season.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone was pushing him into it.
He’s a follower, so this kind of initiative is unusual for him.
Whatever the case, I’m not letting him get away with his bullshit.
I’d much rather be working on improving my game than babysitting him every day.
I’d be worried about my performance if Walker and I didn’t take some extra time to practice every day.
We’ve always taken our competitiveness up a notch when we’re on the same team, but I’m a better player for it.
Throughout college, he continually pushed me to up my game.
I would never have made the draft without him.
It was in the seventh round, but who cares?
I was damn lucky it happened at all. It was, hands down, one of the best days of my life.
It used to bother me that I couldn’t do anything about the bullying and hazing.
I tried talking to the previous coach about it, and he blew me off.
Told me he wasn’t coaching a team full of pussies.
So, I learned to deal with it, and I tried to shield the rookies as best I could.
What else could I do? Well, fuck that. This is my team now, and I’m not having it.
I’d like to see what the guys and I can do before I have to take it up the ladder to Coach and Damon.
Walker and the other alternate captains are following my lead, but we can’t be everywhere all the time, so it’s hard to keep on top of it.
Karl seems to have gained a follower as well. Shane York’s a vet from the old guard, and he’s always flown under the radar, but it looks like he’s embraced his dark side with Karl there to encourage him. I’ve never interacted with Shane much.
He’s on the third line, so we’re rarely on the ice together.
This year York’s struggling to stay there.
It’s looking like the rookie, Colly, will easily grab the third line spot from him.
He’s a wizard with the puck, especially on a breakaway, and he’s fast. At twenty-two, he’s already better than Shane.
Colly spent his first year after college with our AHL affiliate, and he’s clearly benefited from the experience.
He’s the guy we want to develop, especially if he’s willing to work for it.
I’m sure that’s the reason Karl was able to pull Shane into his nastiness.
I have zero sympathy for Shane. He’s lazy and a puck hog.
If he thinks he’ll keep his spot by harassing the rookies, he’s mistaken.
We spend most of the morning on drills. The bonus is that Karl can only chirp at the rookies during drills. Which leaves me free for skill work.
We’re about four days into training, so we’re seeing who can really dig in and who can’t. In my head, I can see the lines forming, even though we’ve got another week of training plus pre-season. I’m getting more and more pumped about this year. We’ve got real talent here.
For once, my day is going well. Karl and Shane are only a minor pain in my ass, and Madison invited me to dinner tonight. Just me, no Walker. Which means I get my girl all to myself. Okay, she’s not my girl yet, but I’m working on it.
There’s a scrimmage this afternoon, so I know we’ll need to keep a close eye on Karl and Shane.
I try not to let it get to me when I notice them whispering like a couple of high school girls.
I’m not the only one who notices. Walks and Orly are also watching.
Orly heads over to chat with Coop and Burnsy, the other two alternate captains.
I take a deep breath and let myself relax a bit.
Just having others see the issue is a tremendous relief.
We all nod at each other, acknowledging our common enemy.
Knowing I’m not alone like I used to be is everything.
We make it through most of practice without issue. I’m thinking we might get through this scrimmage without an incident. I should know better.
Walks is on a breakaway, but Coach is mixing up lines, so he’s watching Colly and Camps, two of the rookies, instead of the puck.
Karl’s on defense with Holla for the white team, and Shane’s their center.
Walks swings at the puck when Karl checks him from behind, leaping up so his elbow solidly clocks him in the helmet.
Walker, instantly boneless, drops to the ice, unnaturally still.
Karl skates away, smirking and congratulating himself, as if he had just won the cup.
I’m instantly enraged. I’m off the bench and skating across the ice before I know it.
The trainers are running toward Walks, already calling for the doc.
That motherfucker. I’ll fucking kill his miserable ass.
I’m so pissed I can barely breathe, but I’m headed toward Bell.
Someone calls my name, but I ignore it. When I hit him at full speed, the sound of it crashes through the arena.
It’s not nearly as satisfying as I hoped when Bell goes flying backward and slams into the boards.
He looks at me in disbelief. I skid to a stop right in front of him, purposely shooting a huge spray of ice all over him.
“What the fuck? Who does that to one of their own, you fucking dick.” I’m done trying to be diplomatic. Fuck this guy.
“What? It’s hockey. People get checked.” He shrugs as if an illegal hit is no big deal. The slowness of his movement after my hit is gratifying.
“You fucking asshole!” I’m already pulling off my gloves when someone grabs me from behind. I’m about to go off when I hear Orly’s voice from behind.
“He is not worth it. Do not lose your place because of that svolach.” Orly grabs my arm to pull me away from the situation.
“Fuck!” I shout, the fury inside me boiling up to the surface. “That was a dirty hit, Orly and you know it.”
“Yes, it was, my friend, but yours was not. If it stops here, no harm is done.” I know what he’s saying is perfectly reasonable, but, fuck, when is someone going to hold this guy accountable?
“Except to Walker.” I add bitterly. “Who fucking does that to their own teammates? What the fuck is his damn problem?”
“I do not know, but there will always be men like him. You cannot change that, sadly.” Orly’s deep voice is sad. Looks like I’m not alone when it comes to toxic teammates, which is gratifying. However, I can’t stoop to his level, not and lead this team, even though I’m certain it was deliberate.
“I know, man, I know. I’m okay.” Straightening up, I adjust my rucked-up sweater, trying to get my frustration under control. God, I’m going to need a long-ass run tonight to work through all this.
“Good to hear. Go check on your friend.” I almost fall over from his friendly back slap.
I’m a big guy, but Orly’s huge. You’d think being so tall and bulky would slow him down, but nope.
He’s fast. Far faster than his bulk would indicate, and it baffles his opponents.
Despite towering over most of the team, it’s his bushy beard that garners him the most ribbing.
He looks as if he just came down from the mountain after wintering with bears.
I skate over to Walker, relieved to see that he’s at least sitting up.
The trainers are checking his pupils already, deep into concussion protocol.
A direct hit to the head is never good. My anger at Bell flares up again, but I push it down.
Orly’s right, even if I don’t like it. Would it feel incredibly satisfying to punch the fucker?
Yes, it would. Am I going to do that? No, I’m not, but it’s hard to let go of the rage that’s been years in the making.
Fortunately for me, Walker gets to his feet and starts heading for the bench, trainer on each arm, just in case.
“How’s your head?” I ask as I follow him off the ice. I’m hovering, but I don’t care.
“Hurts like hell, but it doesn’t look like a concussion. Getting a CT scan just in case.”
“That hard head of yours coming in handy.” I tease. He snorts.
“Fuck off,” he says without heat. “Gonna need ya to watch me tonight though.”
“Of course. I got you. All good.” I assure him.
Damn, well, I guess I used to have a date with Madison.
I try not to let my disappointment about missing dinner get me down. I was looking forward to seeing her, and the letdown goes deeper than I expect. Even though I know she’s in class, I shoot her a text canceling tonight and letting her know about Walker.
The only bright spot today is watching Bell get reamed by Coach as I’m leaving the arena. I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more.