Chapter 39
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
Bodi
It takes nearly two days for my body to recover from Coach’s punishment, but I’m too busy to worry about anything except getting the hell out of Atlanta.
We have a home game tonight, and I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to get out there and put on the performance of a lifetime.
“Lineup changes,” Coach Panzetti says, coming in while we’re having our pre-game meal. He doesn’t look at anyone as he reads from his iPad. “Michener and Knight, you’re healthy scratches tonight. Villaverde, you’re on the first line…”
I don’t hear anything else because the roaring in my ears is deafening.
What the fuck.
I glance over at Ashton, and he’s scowling. His eyes meet mine and I shake my head, mouthing, “Sorry.”
He grins and shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but it is.
This is his rookie season as a pro. There’s a lot of attention on him, both because of how well he played in college and because of who his older brother is. He has a lot of expectations to live up to, and this won’t look good for him.
It doesn’t look good for me either, but at least there’s a reason I’m being punished.
Ashton didn’t do anything except support me.
And he wasn’t the only one. Half the team got out there with me by the end.
But he can’t bench all of us, so there are probably more surprises coming in the next couple of days.
“Coach.” West gets up and follows Coach Panzetti into the hallway. I figure he’s going to fight for us, but there’s nothing to be done. If the lineup changes have already been posted, it’s a done deal. Besides, even if he gets Ashton back on the list, I know my ass isn’t dressing tonight.
Of course, I told West that Blaze is the one who ratted out Jayne and me, and he said he would handle it.
I don’t know what that means exactly but I trust him.
Personally, my first instinct would be to beat the living shit out of the little prick but that will only get me into more trouble and things are bad enough the way they are.
Besides, I learned a tough lesson in L.A.
that getting physical doesn’t fix anything. And usually, it just makes it worse.
The kid won’t last long in this league if he keeps that shit up but I’ve got my own situation to deal with.
“Bodi, wait up.” Ashton jogs after me.
“I’m sorry I dragged you down with me, “I say as we walk into the dressing room and I start pulling out my street clothes.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m good.” He leans against the lockers.
“Did I tell you that Villaverde is the one who told Coach about Jayne and me?” I ask, yanking on my button-down shirt. “So, watch yourself with him.”
“Fuck him,” Ashton says. “He won’t last five minutes in this league if word gets out he’s some kind of spy for Coach.”
“As long as Morrison is our coach, apparently he’ll do better than the rest of us.” I pull out my pants and start putting them on.
“Look, he can’t bench you forever,” Ashton says after a moment. “He’ll move past this.”
“Yeah.” I have less faith than he does but there’s no point in arguing.
“How’s Jayne doing?” he asks.
I pause, irritation winding through my gut. “We haven’t talked much. We’re trying to lie low and let this die down until…” I let my voice fade. I haven’t told anyone but West that I’m trying to get traded, but my agent wasn’t hopeful.
“Until?” Ashton prods.
“Until I can get myself traded.”
“Traded?” He stares at me. “You’re going to let him manipulate you like that?”
I clench my jaw, reminding myself that none of this is his fault. He’s been a good friend in spite of everything.
“Look, I appreciate you standing up for me the other day and I really am sorry he benched you tonight because of that whole thing, but you can’t be that na?ve.
No offense, but you have a kind of job security that most of us don’t.
You’re a hell of a hockey player but there are a lot of great hockey players who wound up losing their careers over things that had nothing to do with skill.
Drugs, gambling, whatever it was. I spent six years in the minors.
This is my shot. I don’t have a big brother to fall back on. ”
“That’s a fair assessment, but the thing is, you’re letting him win.”
“He only wins if he keeps her away from me, and I’m not letting that happen. So far, my agent hasn’t had any bites, so I’m stressed that getting traded might not be as easy as I hoped.”
“You want me to talk to my brother?”
The air between us is heavy.
His brother owns the Lauderdale Knights.
Playing there would be amazing, so I do want him to.
More than anything. But there’s a part of me that wants to earn my place on another team.
That wants to feel like I’m accomplished and that whatever team I wind up on actually wants me there.
I don’t want a pity trade, even though it would make my life easier.
“I appreciate the offer,” I say sincerely, “but give me a little time to sort things out before I start calling in favors.”
“Understood.” He nods. “You going up to Mr. Carrier’s box?”
Players who aren’t in the lineup usually watch from the owner’s box, and I nod.
“Yeah.”
“See you up there.”
“Okay.” I finish getting dressed on autopilot. I’ve just shoved my phone in my pocket when West and Vik come in.
“You doing okay?” West asks me.
“I guess.” I shrug.
“I tried to talk to Coach Panzetti but he said Morrison wouldn’t be deterred. The coaching staff all tried.”
“It’s okay. I guess I deserve it for sleeping with his daughter.”
Vik mutters in Russian.
“You know it’s not helpful when you say things I don’t understand?” I ask him dryly.
He shrugs. “You are difficult.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Look, we’re going out tonight,” West says. “Win or lose, we need to blow off some steam. And you’re coming.”
“I don’t think—”
“Best way to convince Coach you’ve moved on is to let him see you out living your best life. I’m not saying you’re going to do anything, let’s just have some fun.”
I hesitate but he has a point.
Besides, there’s nothing wrong with having a few beers with my teammates.
Frankly, I could use a night out like that.
This season has been stressful as fuck.
And I don’t know how long before anything is going to get any better.