Chapter 28 Dominic
Dominic
Coach is yelling. Again.
Ranting really, about how we’re going to pay for this and he’s going to punish us for that.
It’s all blah, blah, blah to me, the same thing he did during the first intermission, only ramped up even more because we’re going to lose this game.
I don’t even mind. The guys having my back means more than anything Coach could do to me, or us.
It’s not just me either. No one in the locker room is listening to him.
From what I can tell, Kipson had a little chatty-chat with the guys, explaining the backstory of what’s going down with me and Briar, and therefore, with me and Coach.
They’ve chosen their side. It just happens to be mine, not Coach’s.
And I think he’s finally beginning to realize how much he’s lost. Let’s just say it’s a helluva lot more than one game.
It’s the respect of nearly every player in this room.
“Getchur asses back out there and play the way we all know you can or—”
“Ahem. Excuse me.” The soft female voice shouldn’t grab anyone’s attention. It’s only because it’s so out of place that it does. But it grabs mine, and my eyes automatically swing toward it, toward her.
“Briar!” I exclaim, standing up in surprise.
She’s wearing my jersey again, this time with a cute little flippy skirt I’ve never seen before. And fuck me, knee socks. The woman has on baby-blue knee socks that match the jersey.
She gives me a little wave with a bright smile. “Hi, Albie. But I’m not here to see you.”
What? Who’s Albie? I swear I almost look around for some other guy, and then I realize that she means me.
Apparently, we have pet names now. Albatross, Albie.
Okay, I like it. I want to crow . . . Caw-caw, motherfuckers.
I don’t even know if that’s what albatrosses—albatrossi?
—sound like. I should look that up or ask Briar. But maybe later because . . .
She holds up one finger, telling me to wait before turning suddenly hard eyes to her father, who’s vibrating with unyelled words stuck in his throat. “Dad, a minute?”
“What are you doing here?” he blurts out finally, looking like he’s choking on each syllable.
He probably means in the locker room, but just as easily could mean at the game because he had no idea Briar was in attendance tonight.
Why would he know? He’s never invited her.
But I did. I got her seats, made sure she had a parking pass, and confirmed that she had money for the concession stand.
I took care of everything for her. Unlike him.
Apparently, though, it doesn’t matter as he shakes his head, getting his wits. “It’s not a good time. We’re in the middle of a game, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He holds a hand out wide, gesturing to the team around him.
Briar arches a brow. “Trust me, I know. It’s not a game, it’s an ass-whipping.
I also know that, for you, it’s hockey over everything, but that doesn’t seem to be working this time, does it?
” She points at the countdown clock over the door that still reads eight minutes.
“Two minutes. Can you spare that for your daughter, Dad?”
I see Coach frown as her words land center-mass, hurting him.
Good. He deserves to hurt for every single time he left a young Briar behind, wondering why she wasn’t worth his time and attention.
“Briar,” he starts, his tone softening for her more than it ever does for us, but it feels more like exasperation than affection.
“I love Dominic and he loves me.” Briar’s announcement is crystal clear and loud, undeniable.
There’s a bit of muffled surprise from the team, and even an uncomfortable chuckle or two, but everyone falls silent quickly at the hard glare Coach shoots at the team.
“I’m sure you think that. I’m sure he’s led you to think that,” Coach says, cutting an accusing glare my way. “But you know how hockey players are. How men are. You don’t need that. I’m trying to protect you.”
“Protect her?” I balk. “From me? You’re the one she needs protection from.” I move to Briar’s side, ready to destroy the man who hobbled the very foundation she built her life on. I’ll gladly destroy him for her, for her future. For our future. And to hell with my hockey career.
Briar places a steadying hand on my chest and meets my eyes. I see the strength in hers that I’ve always known was there. She doesn’t need me to fight this battle for her. She’s ready to do it on her own.
I give her a supportive nod. “Say what you need to say. I’ve got you.”
“I know how you are,” she tells her father. “I know how Tyler is. But not all men are like that. Not even all hockey players are like that,” she declares, waving a hand around the room. “Dominic certainly isn’t. He’s better than that.”
“You only know what he wants you to know,” Coach protests.
“He didn’t want to come here, doesn’t want to be here, but I’m sure he played a good game to get my own daughter on his side.
Against me. Probably thinks I’ll trade him back where he wants to go, just to be rid of him.
Not a bad idea, actually.” He arches a brow, giving the threat serious consideration.
“This isn’t about hockey!” Briar yells. God help her, she even stomps her foot. The pain of her childhood is breaking loose, free of every restraint she’s had it under for so long. “This isn’t even about you. For once in my whole life, it’s about Me!”
Everything stops. I don’t think anyone even breathes. I’m reasonably certain, no one has ever spoken to Coach Boothe like that.
“And if you try to stop us from being together”—Briar wraps an arm around my waist and I automatically lay one over her shoulders—“you’re going to destroy the team you’ve given your life to and everything will have been for nothing, because this is all you have.
” She glances around, not at the people, but at the mural-covered walls.
The ones with awards and championship rankings, the team’s logo, and not much else.
“Briar, I’m trying to protect you,” he says again.
But my girl’s not done. She’s got an entire lifetime of thoughts and feelings and pain pent up and she’s letting it all fly, collateral damage be damned.
“You are the only thing I ever needed protecting from,” she states bluntly.
If she’d yelled it, I think it would’ve hurt less.
The flat statement makes it that much more impactful.
“You hurt me when I was still figuring me out and it ruined me in a lot of ways—how I see the world, what I expect, and most importantly, what I accept. Dominic is doing his damnedest to fix what you broke and show me what love is supposed to be like.”
She counts on her fingers. “It’s not disappearing the way you did.
It’s not treating Mom and me like we were disposable.
It’s not showing up only when it’s convenient for you.
It’s not never picking up the phone or coming to your grandson’s hockey games.
It’s not . . . you. I have never once felt love from you, so don’t stand there and say you are trying to protect me from the one man I’ve never needed protecting from. ”
She’s breathless, panting as tears stream down her face.
With my hands on her shoulders, I wait, making sure she’s finished.
I want her to get it all out—every shred of rage, every pinprick of hurt, every scar ripped open to freshly bleed so that she can truly start to heal.
When she’s quiet, I spin her, burying her face against my chest where she sobs openly.
“This is what your ‘no distractions’ rule leads to. A shitty father and a shittier team,” I tell Coach harshly.
“I won’t be a part of that.” I look around the locker room at the men I’ve come to think of as brothers.
“I’m sorry, guys. Truly, I am. I have loved being a part of the team we’ve built this season.
But I have more at play than just hockey.
I have a family.” I press a kiss to Briar’s head.
“I’m married,” Bill blurts out. Eyes turn his way, not in surprise at the fact, but that he’s saying it here in front of Coach. “And I’m staying that way. If that’s a problem, I can ride the pine too.”
“Well, fuck,” Lavoie hisses. “I’m dating someone too. Met her in New York. It’s still new, but yeah, I’m dating someone. And if need be, I’ll ride too. Yeehaw, motherfuckers.”
“I talked to Sofia,” Kipson says quietly. “Made my apologies and she accepted.” He sighs heavily. “It was good. Not get-back-together good, but good.”
Rodney holds his hand up. “I have a girl back home, hopefully waiting on me. She just started her engineering program at school. And I really don’t want to sit out, because this is my chance, but I want to play for a team that gives a crap about each other.”
Briar pulls away from my chest, her arm snaking back around my waist. “Dad, you picked hockey over me every time the choice came up. Now is your last chance. Either Dominic plays, or this time, it’ll be me choosing to leave you behind.
You’ll never see or hear from me again.” Her voice quakes a little, and I feel the shiver run through her as she delivers her own ultimatum, but she stands unyielding, demanding more than the bare minimum for the first fucking time in her life.
I couldn’t be prouder of her.
Ironically, her ultimatum is similar to her father’s—hockey or her.
I know what I chose, and I’d do it again, as many times as necessary, but I’m honestly not sure what Coach will choose.
And so help me, if he hurts Briar again, I’m going to beat the shit out of him.
Given the hard-set jaws and cold eyes around the room, I won’t be the only one.
We’ve all given up so much for our sport, dedicating our lives to it. But it can’t be to the detriment of a life outside the ice at all.