27. Logan
TWENTY-SEVEN
LOGAN
I ’m feeling good going into the Monsters game. They’re one of our biggest rivals and my dad’s alma mater, so I’m sure he’ll show up—unwanted—at the game. But it doesn’t matter. I’m sure he heard about Anthony enjoying the holidays with Mother, and frankly, it feels good, considering he’s staying at the Four Seasons with some chick. We won the last five games in a row, so we’re strong going into this one.
What I’m not expecting is Anthony accosting me in a hallway after warmups, dragging me around a corner into one of the trainer rooms.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”
I search his face, not sure what has him so worked up. “What?”
“Did you know?” He nearly flattens me against the wall, whispering harshly under his breath.
“What?”
He shoves away from me, madder than I’ve ever seen him. It radiates through his body. “Did you just not want to tell me?” Doubt flickers in his irises. “Why does this feel like a fucking trap?—”
“Anthony,” I say through my teeth, feeling his words in my chest.
He doesn’t stop speaking. “—was his trying to work with me all a ruse?”
I glance around and then put both of my hands on his traps, giving him a slight shake, trying to get him to calm down so I can get a word in. “Will you fucking listen to me?”
He grinds his teeth but shuts up.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Can you clue me in?”
Rage boils over in his heavy breathing. He’s fighting to get a hold of himself. “Tell me the truth: did you know?”
“How can I tell you the truth if I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”
He sucks in a breath, going deadly calm. “You didn’t know your father is the fucking coach of the monsters?”
I stagger, suddenly light-headed. “What are you talking about?”
“How could you not know? He didn’t tell you?”
I shake my head, collapsing into a seat. “That fucking jackass.”
“He just let you go into a game to face him without a word?” Anthony softens. My reaction must have convinced him.
“He’d do anything for an advantage. You should know that.” I put my face in my hands, nauseated.
“He was the team manager for New York. Why the fuck would he take a step down and coach college? Trying to get on the team his son plays on, I get that. But this?” Anthony shoves both hands into his hair.
“How easy is it to find a job this quickly?” I can only assume this didn’t just come up. He had to have talked someone into it. He knows what he’s doing. Mother hasn’t spoken to him since she ended things, so I assume he’s trying to get to her and me. He’s probably low on cash too, but this is unforgivable, especially without telling me.
Anthony sits next to me, putting his arm around me. “I’m sorry.”
I glance over at him. “It’s not your fault he’s an asshole, but as you can see, it’s not just you he treats like shit. It’s everyone he’s not using.”
“Do you still want to play?”
I harden, lifting my gaze. “Don’t you fucking dare not start me when we’re facing him.” The fucking shame knowing how my father would react if I’d been on the primary line only to get pulled for him... My hands clench into fists. “Don’t do that to me.”
He appraises my reaction as cold as I’m feeling. “Okay, I won’t change the lineup, but if this affects your playing, I will take you out.”
“If you think I haven’t learned how to use hating my father to my benefit after eighteen years, you drastically underestimate how often he’s done this kind of shit to me.”
Anthony looks into my eyes then and leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead in a totally unexpected gesture. “I believe you.” Those words mean more than he could possibly know. I don’t know why, but something about his trust and taking me at my word eases a part of my soul.
“Thank you.” I let out a pent up breath, sitting there another minute before I force myself up. “We need to get back out there before the team starts asking fucking questions.”
“You’re right.” Anthony gets to his feet next to me but doesn’t move to leave the room he’d pulled us into.
“What?”
“I—”
“Spit it out.” I harden myself off to whatever might come, so used to people disappointing me that it feels normal.
“I hate that he does this to you. I hate that I let him do this to me. He has taken so much from both of us. I can live with mine, but him hurting you makes me want to fucking kill him.” He holds my eyes through his whole speech.
I grab both sides of his face and kiss him hard. It’s stupid to do it out here, in the open, where anyone could come around the corner, but I do it anyway. “Let’s murder his team. That will be enough for me.”
“Me too.” He takes another kiss before making himself back up.
I grab his hand and put it where my cup is pushed out by my damn hard-on. “Now I have to play like this.”
“Why am I to blame?” he asks playfully, and he’s almost smiling.
With how few times I’ve seen him smile, I want it. I crave it. It’s going to become a game. “Because you are being all sexy and murderous. Who wouldn’t get hard by that?”
He rolls his eyes. “You aren’t supposed to be turned on by that.”
“What should I be?”
He trips over his words but stops himself. “I guess turned on isn’t bad, but it does say something about the kind of person you’re attracted to.”
“Is the person who likes it or the person who does it worse?”
“Stop making me think.” He shoves me back before looking at his watch. “Go back to the locker room. I’ll be in once my hard-on goes down.”
He doesn’t follow me, and I assume it’s more than his hard-on. I’m sure he needs time to get his own head straight, and I can’t blame him. It’s the first time he’ll have to face my father fully since the injury.
I hate my father enough for hurting my mom and even more for Anthony. I need to play well for both of them. I need to spit in my father’s face for this. Not even a fucking text—he wanted to catch me off guard. He hated I chose to play for the Gods instead of the Monsters. Him going to coach there is a direct fuck you to me.
“What did Coach want?” Colt asks when I pick up my stick, checking the tape.
It’s not like I can keep this a secret. They know who my father is. “What?” I ask, not wanting them to know how much this affects me.
“You and Coach?” Wolfe asks, letting me know the entire team was talking about it before I came in here.
“Oh, you mean how he accosted me in the hall?” I pick up my tape to fix my stick. “He found out my father is the Monsters’ new coach and reasonably wanted to know why I didn’t warn him.”
The entire team turns to look at me.
“Did you know?” Wolfe asks, crossing his massive arms over his chest.
“Fuck, no. I hate him, and I’d never give him a damn advantage.”
Savage claps a hand on my shoulder. “That was a dick move.”
“No shit.” I toss the tape back into my bag.
“Wait, don’t Coach and your old man have beef?” Wolfe asks.
“Did everyone fucking know but me?” I ask, looking around the room.
They give nods and shrugs.
“And no one fucking thought to bring it up?” I have to laugh, but I’m glad I do. It eases some of the tension out of my shoulders.
“We figured that’s why Coach didn’t put you on the first line,” Lovelace says carefully.
“Damn, and you still didn’t tell me?” I don’t just address him, but the whole team.
“We weren’t gonna give you a reason to leave. You’re a good player,” Savage tells me point blank.
I look at them harshly then laugh. “Fair. I would have done the same.”
They join me in laughing, breaking the tension.
“So what did Coach say?” Colt asks.
“After he accused me of knowing, I guess my reaction made him believe me. He apologized and asked if I want to play still.” I wasn’t sure what I was going to say until the words were out, but the truth is easiest and makes the most sense.
“Ohhh shit,” Lovelace mutters.
A couple of the other guys make sounds in agreement.
“Are you going to?” Colt asks with a sneer on his lips.
I’ve barely gotten him to trust me, so this is my future. “Of course I’m fucking playing. None of you want to beat him more than I do.” I don’t show the same emotion I did with Anthony now that I’ve gotten over the shock, but I do let them see the rage boiling inside me. They need to believe me or they won’t trust me, and if they don’t trust me, they won’t give me the puck.
“Why would he take a coaching job for our biggest rivals?”
“Aside from being a dick…” I blow out a breath and hold my ground, deciding it’s best to be honest. “My mom kicked him out after his hundredth time fucking cheating, which means he’s out of a job, so I suspect he took this one to get me back, as I’m the one who told my mother.” I say it all in an icy tone, giving them more than I want to, but I know how important trust is on the ice.
There are soft murmurs, but my eyes stay locked on Colt.
“Fuck him,” Colt says after what feels like an hour.
The rest of the team echoes the sentiment.
“You guys ready to play?” Anthony breaks up our little impromptu huddle.
“Yes,” we chorus together.
“Any last-minute notes?” Anthony asks. “Anything from the captains?”
No one says anything.
I raise my hand. “I have a few things. I grew up with my father as my personal hell of a coach, so I know his tricks.”
The whole team turns to face me.
“He loves dirty play, as dirty as you can imagine. I don’t know how long he’s been with the Monsters, but even if it’s only a week, he will have taught them all the crap he knows. He won’t just encourage it, he will enforce it. He’s going to pull anyone not doing what he wants. Imagine the worst you’ve seen, then go worse. It will be physical as fuck. They are a good team, a fast team, but expect to fight for every position. My father won’t leave anyone on the ice not giving two hundred percent. They won’t give you even a fucking second to breathe. He’s got his reputation for a reason. We have to make them work just as hard and tire them out.”
“I’ll help with lots of rotation, but he’s right. When I played with Cox, he played dirty, even against his own teammates at practice. This will be the most physical game of your life,” Anthony agrees then turns to me. “Anything else?”
“Let’s fucking win this, because I don’t want to let that fucking bastard get anything over me or Coach.”
The team cheers, and we head out to the bench.