Chapter 4
Quinn
Quinn gripped the steering wheel while he watched the Bigfoot players spill out of the arena into the parkade. Snow had left ten minutes before the rest of his team, so there was no chance of seeing him again, but his nerves were frayed.
Why had he agreed to watch Eren practice today, especially once he knew August of all people was on his team?
Curiosity mostly, but also…
Eren opened the car door and fell into the passenger seat. He waited until the door was shut and he and Quinn were in total silence before he inhaled deeply, then exhaled.
“How was today?” Quinn asked, trying not to pry, but wanting to make sure he was okay.
Eren tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. If Quinn were a less observant person, he wouldn’t have noticed the moisture gathering along his lashes.
“It was acceptable performance-wise, and exhausting physically.” Eren’s eyelids slowly slid open, and he turned his head so they could look at each other.
“I feel like I’m fucking up, Quinn. The team played so well in the playoffs, but now everything is fucked up, and I don’t know what I’m doing. I think I need to step down—”
“No.” Quinn tightened his hold on the steering wheel until his fingers began tingling and his knuckles turned white. “You’re not quitting, Callahan. Esme wouldn’t want you to walk away from a dream you’ve been fighting for. Not like this.”
In Quinn’s opinion, there was nothing more devastating than seeing a strong man cry. So, when Eren’s bottom lip began to quiver, and his breathing turned harsh, tears sprang into Quinn’s eyes, blurring his vision.
“I wanted to bring the cup home for her,” Eren said, his voice shaking.
“She was so sick, but she made it to that last game, and she was good. It was like the cancer didn’t even exist. Esme was sitting right behind me on the bench, cheering louder than anyone in the building, even though she’d had a chemo treatment the day before. ”
The loss had been devastating. Quinn had felt it from his apartment, sitting on his couch alone while he watched TV and received live updates from his sister.
People often spoke of twins and their supernatural connections, and Quinn had always thought it was stupid. But that night, when the Toronto team had shot the winning puck and earned themselves the Stanley Cup, something in his chest had cracked open.
Pain—his sister’s pain. He felt it in that moment, how heartbroken she was for Eren that he had lost the cup, and the knowledge that he was about to lose everything.
Esme took a turn for the worse a few weeks later, and then she was gone. Quinn could barely function after, but his stubborn, determined brother-in-law had gone to training camp in September with a fire lit inside him.
When Eren walked through the door after his first day, Quinn had made sure the girls were distracted in their room while their father broke down in the entryway.
The sobbing and screaming would be etched into his memories for the rest of his life. Quinn had never heard someone make a sound like that—the visceral wail of grief in audible form.
Quinn had held onto Eren, if only to anchor him, silently promising Esme that he would be there for Eren and his nieces from that point on.
Whatever they needed from him, he would provide it, even if it was something as stupid as watching a practice game like Esme had done a thousand times before him.
Quinn had always liked Eren. He had been the perfect match for his sister, who had always felt so untouchable when it came to love. That’s why Quinn felt so fiercely protective of him, because Eren was important to Esme, and he felt like it was his job to watch over him.
“I’ll be there for every game,” said Quinn. “Even the away ones.”
Eren shook his head, ripping the glove compartment open so he could grab napkins to blow his nose. “I want you to be with the girls. You don’t need to come to away games. Just sit in her spot during practice, and come to the home games. That’s enough for me.”
Quinn wasn’t convinced, and he didn’t want Eren to spiral. He was pretty sure playing sports had a mental thing to them, so he wasn’t about to back down on this topic.
“Eren, the girls are sad, but they’re thriving,” said Quinn.
“You’ve built them a great support system.
They have friends at school, and you know, the help you hired?
They love those girls. The only thing they want right now is for you to be happy and score more goals, so if me following you around like a groupie is what you need, I will be there. ”
Eren had shoved his face into the napkin and was refusing to come out.
“Do your teammates know?” Quinn asked. “I’m not sure how close you are with them…”
Eren lifted his head, but he kept his eyes glued to the tissue. “They know Esme is gone, but I try not to bring that energy into the room. We worked most of the sympathies and pitying looks out during training camp, but there’s one guy who’s being a bit of a drag.”
“Snow?” Quinn guessed.
Eren slowly shifted his gaze away from the napkin to meet his eyes.
“Some guys take a cup loss really hard. It was his first playoff run to the finals, and Snow has always been touchy at best. Last season, he really synced up with us, and that put the team on a roll. But this year it’s…
fuck. I was hoping that when Cote got traded here, Snow would have someone younger to connect with, and then we could get back into the ‘Let’s kick some ass and bring home a cup’ mindset. But he’s still in a total slump.”
Hockey was too complicated for Quinn, but he was trying his best to follow along. “August is one of your best players, right?”
“Gusty is a massive and talented two-way defenceman,” said Eren, and Quinn could hear the pride in his voice. “Which means he can play as a forward and a defenceman. He’s also ambidextrous, so we can put him anywhere, and he will get the puck to the net.”
Yeah, that sounded important. No wonder Eren, as the Bigfoot captain, was so upset that his all-in-one teammate was underperforming.
“You said you knew him,” said Eren. “From school?”
Quinn’s cheeks heated so fast that his skin prickled. “Yes.”
“Can you—”
“No.” Quinn turned the car on, scrambling for the air-conditioning so he could cool down. “We weren’t on friendly enough terms for me to start up a conversation with him. He probably doesn’t remember me.”
Eren raised an eyebrow, and Quinn looked away so he could glare out the windshield.
“I’ve seen pictures of you from high school, and you do look…different.”
It was hard to compare the black clothes, black eyeliner and dyed hair to his take on the neo-Victorian fashion he wore today. Most of which consisted of a lot of lace under crop tops, skinny jeans, and corsets.
Quinn didn’t doubt that August wouldn’t recognize him; he just happened to keep running into him like a weirdo because he was waiting around for Eren all the time now.
“Come to the Calgary game,” Eren said, so quickly that Quinn had to turn the car fan down to hear him.
“What?”
“The Calgary game,” Eren repeated. “I have a seat saved behind our bench. I know you don’t like crowds, but just for this game—just this one, I promise.”
Eren saving the seat meant he had been planning to ask Quinn to come. He would have bought his own damn tickets and flown there himself if Eren hadn’t offered, because despite the bravado, his brother-in-law was falling apart.
Fuck August Snow. Quinn didn’t have any more time to waste on that prick when he had family who needed him.
“I’ll be there,” said Quinn. “For this one, and all the rest of them. Stop being afraid to ask me, and let me help you.”
Eren blew out a breath, relaxing his posture. “Fine. You’re flying with us, and I’m buying you all the food you want and paying for your hotel room. Bring your laptop so you don’t fall behind on your studies, too. I don’t want you to fail because of me.”
Quinn was careful to mind his rings when he smacked Eren on the back of his head. “Don’t get bossy with me, Callahan.”
Eren yelped and rubbed his head, giving Quinn a betrayed, wide-eyed look.
“Don’t you start,” Quinn grumbled, putting the car in drive so he could follow the next person out of the parkade. “I literally watch you get smashed against the boards, punched in the face, and have your teeth knocked out. There’s no way a little slap hurt you.”
“It hurt more because you’re supposed to be nice to me.”
“Whatever.”