Hold the Line (The Bruisers Hockey #1)

Chapter 1- Tate

I’m making my way to my locker cubby, towel hung around my hips, when the Dallas Stars head coach, Tom, tells me to meet him in the GM’s office.

The other players make eye contact with me—probably not a good sign to be called in like this after practice.

I mentally go over the practice. I’ve been exactly where I need to be on defense, and my footwork improved a lot with the extra training I've been doing.

I can't be up for a trade. I’m the first on the ice every day and the last off.

The window for trades is open though, so no one is safe, even if I've been with this team for nine years.

After I quickly make myself as presentable as one can look in athletic shorts and a t-shirt, I find Coach Tom sitting in the chair in the GM’s office overlooking the rink.

He’s got his glasses on and is looking at something in his hands with a small frown.

When Beckett Bloomfield, the GM, lifts his head and assesses me with those ice blue eyes, my stomach plummets.

He keeps his face carefully blank and smooths a hand down his sapphire tie.

“Come on in, Tate.” Beckett calls. Coach has a neutral expression on his face.

Stepping into the office, I fight off a shiver, but my skin still pebbles in chills.

I remained standing but shut the door behind me.

If I’m here for the reason I think, I want to be able to make a swift exit.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

It does nothing to calm my racing heart.

“It’s ok, just lay it out for me.”

“You’ve been traded to the Bruisers. You’re to report there in forty-eight hours for morning skate.

” Beckett explains. “You’ve been a great asset to this team.

Someone will be reaching out about travel and living accommodations.

” The words hit like a puck to the ribs—fast, cold, and unavoidable.

I keep my face neutral because that’s what professionals do, but inside every muscle goes tight.

I try to swallow the sudden lump in my throat. New York.

I clear my throat. If I speak too soon, my voice is going to give me away.

The room is silent save for the distant sound of sticks hitting pucks below.

Coach lets out a sigh. “New York wanted the trade to go through immediately. I’m sorry you’ll have to move Matty across the country so close to Christmas. ”

“It’s okay, It’s a part of the job.” I shrug even though I have to fist my hands to stop them from shaking. This isn’t just taking us from our home; it’s ripping me away from my support system. I rub a hand over my jaw.

“Yeah, well. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to call me,” Coach offers.

I’m not looking to get all mushy, so I excuse myself and walk out of the arena without all the goodbyes.

There's nothing worse than getting traded from the team after a winning season like we had. I don’t want the pity, and I have way too much planning to do now. I’m already stalking across the parking lot, the warm Texas air soothed by a breeze, when I hear a voice call out behind me.

“Hey man, wait up!” I turn to see the team captain, Garrett, jogging through the parking lot. “Jesus you’re fast.”

“What’s up?”

“I heard about the trade. I’m sorry, you’re a hell of a player,” He drags the tip of his shoe against the pavement, hands tucked in his pockets. He hesitantly searches my face. “The team’s going out for a drink, can I buy you one?”

“Nah, I gotta get home. Too much packing, not to mention breaking the news to my kid.” “It’s been a pleasure playing with you. I can’t wait to kick your ass when we play each other next month.” He grins good naturedly, then sobers. “Good luck up there.”

“Thanks, you too, man,” I give him a friendly nod and finally duck into the peace and quiet of my truck.

The sun is starting to set as I take the long drive up to the ranch. Momma’s got all the kids sitting at a long picnic table eating dinner. Probably something she had them all help make, knowing her.

When I slam my truck door shut, I hear the kids all screaming as they run around and climb up the big oak tree. It’s one of those old ones where some of the branches almost touch the grass.

They all come barrelling to me when I hop over the long wooden fence that separates the driveway from the expansive front yard. I make sure to mind the Christmas lights wound around it as I do.

“Hey kiddos!” I say and crouch down with my arms out. My older brother's four kids come barrelling into me, knocking me back onto my butt.

He’s got two girls and two boys between the ages of four and nine and one on the way.

My mom has always insisted on keeping all the kids while we work.

After working as a teacher for twenty years, she retired.

She says her calling was to be a grandma.

After a round of roughhousing and tickling, the boys run off to play and I dust my jeans.

“Where’s Matty?” I say and sign with my hands.

Tilly is skipping next to me, her blonde pigtails bouncing behind her, half fallen out and uneven.

“He’s inside. Grammy says he had a bad day, and we should let him have space. I don’t know why, when I have a bad day, I always need a lot of snuggles.” She scrunches her freckled covered nose in thought as she signs and speaks. “Maybe Matty would like to snuggle my unicorn stuffie.”

“Maybe. Hey, why don’t you go show those boys how to do a real flip on that trampoline.” I sign back and gesture to my nephews with my chin.

“Okay, Uncle Tate.” She grins and takes off. Tilly has complete hearing loss in one ear and only moderate in the other. She doesn’t have that accent most associated with deafness. You wouldn’t really notice if you didn’t know her.

I still sign when speaking with her, even if she doesn’t necessarily need it with her implant. It’s good practice.

My momma sits on the wooden porch swing in the shade with a glass of sweet tea in her hand and one on the table for me. There’s a Christmas tree on the porch that’s just barely shining behind her.

“Hey you.” She sees right through me and pats the spot next to her. “Seems like Matty isn’t the only one who had a bad day.” “Speaking of, what happened?” I take a big gulp of my drink before setting it back on the table.

“He won’t say. I think he’s waiting for you.” She scans my face and hers softens. Her greying hair blows away from her face from a slight breeze. “I’m guessing you got the call?”

I shake my head. She looks relieved until I speak.

“The GM called me into his office. New York.” My voice cracks on that last word. I hold my head in my hands, elbows propped on my knees.

“Oh, honey. It’ll be okay. It’s supposed to be beautiful this time of year, right?

And they have plenty of good schools. We can take turns visiting.

” She rubs my shoulder up and down softly.

The same way she always has when I receive news that is too big to handle.

Like she did when I found out my son had been born and I’d missed it.

When she told me my father died. “You’ve built a house here that you can spend the off-season in. ”

I try to put on my brave face, but the tears still fall. I give her a small smile. “Sure mom.”

“I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ve got Scotty here too. Don’t you feel any guilt or worry for me ok? You just keep living out your dream. Lord knows you’ve worked so hard for it.”

All I can do is nod and wipe my tears with my shirt sleeve.

The side door slams shut, and a young man stalks off to the beat-up Ford in the driveway, kicking dust up behind him every step he takes. I swear I hear a sniffle. Seems like it’s a day for bad days.

My baby sister, Presley, comes bouncing out of the front door a moment later. She falls unceremoniously into the chair next to me, long black hair falling over the back of it. “Hey, T.”

“Hey, sis.” I glance over my shoulder again to where the kid is peeling out of the drive. “What’s all that about?”

“Hm? Oh, Bradley? I got accepted to NYU, so I broke up with him. No point waiting until January.” She shrugs. My momma's mouth drops open.

“Congratulations, That’s amazing!” I say at the same time my momma’s voice comes out sterner.

“Presley Bridges! Don’t tell me you were so careless with his heart.”

“No, momma. I let him down easy, Promise.” She says earnestly but shoots me a sneaky wink. Presley has never softened herself for anyone and I wouldn’t want her any other way. She pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one up. She passes me the pack with the lighter.

“I wish y'all would put that bad habit down and leave it in the rearview.” Momma chides.

“I’m tryin’. It ain’t helping me with hockey, that’s for sure.” I say through the cigarette between my lips. I cup one hand around the lighter to block it from the breeze.

“I’m not. I like them. This one’s kinda minty.” Presley grins.

She’s young to have picked up this bad habit from me. Nineteen and ready to take on the world. How different mine looked at that age.

I was a single father, running myself into the ground trying to pursue my hockey career. I got drafted at nineteen, two months before I found out I was a father. I had no time to prepare, no heads up. Just if you want him, come get him.

I shake my head to clear my head of the painful memory.

“Looks like we’ll both be in New York next year.” I try to sound optimistic, but it falls a little flat. I snuff out the smoke and leave it in the ash tray.

“We can visit all the time. Don’t tell the others but you’re my favourite brother.” She whispers conspiratorially.

“You think I don’t know you say that to all of us?” I squint at her playfully and ruffle her hair before standing.

I let momma know I’m gonna go check on Matty and give her a kiss on the cheek. As often as I travel, he has his own room here on my parents' ranch. It's my old one.

A lot of the hockey memorabilia is still hung on the walls since Matty plays too but it's also got a lego table and a lot of other age-appropriate toys for him now.

He also wanted to paint the walls blue and put up little decals of a cowboy riding a bronco.

It's cozy here as his home away from home and I hate that I have to rip him away from this place and our family.

He's lying face down on his bed with his arm stuffed under the pillows to prop his face up. Matty isn't an emotional kid in comparison to his cousins, so this display is unusual for him.

I sit carefully on the edge of the bed and put a firm and comforting hand on his shoulder like my dad had done so many times in this same room.

Unlike Matty, I was very emotional as a kid and this was a weekly occurrence. My dad always showed nothing but calm patience through it all so that's what I try to do.

“Matty? What's the matter, son?” The second he hears my voice he jumps up and hugs me around the neck sniffling. I run my hand over the short sandy brown hair that resembles mine.

He launches into a story about how he liked a girl named Skylar, but he was too scared to hug her at recess. He asked his ex-best friend to invite her to play with them because Matty was too shy.

“And dad…She's soo pretty. Like the prettiest. And everyone in class likes her because she's so nice and smells like sunshine…” I'm nodding along to his rant not sure how this story ends with him face down on his bed.

I'm not sure I love the idea of my nine-year-old already noticing girls.

“And then, ugh dad you won't believe it.”

He throws himself back on the bed with his hands over his face.

“Won't believe what? Don't leave me in suspense here.” I try to hide my amusement for the playground drama from him because the poor boy is truly distraught.

“Stupid Daniel. He asked her to hug him first.” The gasp I let out is, I'm embarrassed to say, not theatrical. I was expecting he got turned down and we would have a talk about consent, not this plot twist.

“That little shit!” I'm invested now. Do I need to beat up this kid's dad? I mean Travis has always been cool but apparently not if he raised the backstabbing prick that Daniel has become.

Wait. I need to chill out; I'm supposed to be the adult in this situation. I have to navigate this without resorting to violence. Which has never been my strong suit, hence the hockey career.

“That's what I said!” He throws his hands up. Hmph.

“Then what happened?”

“Skylar told him no because her dad doesn't let her hug boys at all. Not even if they ask nicely and if they do then she has to push them away.”

“Ok. What happened after that? I didn't get a call from the school.”

“Daniel's no snitch, dad. Besides then he would have to tell his dad what a dirty- “

“-Ok.” I hold up my hand. “So, is this really about Skylar or is it the fact that Daniel betrayed you?”

“Exactly! See dad you get it. You can't try to poach someone else's girl like that.”

“Oh, she's your girl now, is she?” My chuckle escapes this time.

Matty just sighs woefully. “After Daniel went to play on the swings, she said she would be if i asked her to and said she would even hold my hand. Even though her dad says she is not allowed to.” He shakes his head with a heavy sigh.

“I told her no cause Daniel wanted to hug her too and I can't betray my friend like that.”

“That's heavy stuff, thank you for sharing that with me.” I hugged him again. The whole thing is kind of ridiculous, but I admire my son's loyalty.

“I actually had some news of my own to share.” He sits back immediately. He knew that I could be traded at any time and it was something I made a point to tell him no matter how secure my spot felt. “I got traded to New York.”

He’s silent for a moment as he processes the bomb I just dropped.

“So, we have to move there?” His voice cracks, distraught.

“Yeah. That means we are gonna have to move there.” I nod solemnly.

He tries to keep a brave face on for me, even as his chin wobbles.

I just hold my arms open. His face crumples and he holds onto me crying. He doesn't have to say anything, I already know he doesn't want to leave this place. How can I ask him to leave our home, our family? How can I go when this will be our first Christmas without Dad?

“I’m sorry, Matty.”