33 - Ares
ARES
I hated not playing.
There wasn’t a better way to say it. No cleaner version.
I just fucking hated it.
The gym helped. A little. Steel in my hands. Weight pushing back. Muscles burning, until everything else went silent.
That part I understood.
That part made sense.
Everything else didn’t.
Two games. That’s what they’d given me. Two games for a cracked rib. Rumored to be three.
Two games to sit. Watch. Think.
I didn’t like thinking.
The bar pressed up over my head. Locked out. Held.
Lowered.
Again.
The door opened behind me. I didn’t turn. I didn’t need to.
“You always lift this late?”
Sebastian.
I racked the bar. Sat up. Looked at him.
“Always.”
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him like he wasn’t sure if he should be there.
That tracked.
He hovered for a second, then moved to the rack across from me. Picked up a pair of dumbbells.
Not heavy ones.
Not weak, either.
We worked in silence for a few minutes. Just the sound of metal and breath.
“You were right,” he said finally.
I didn’t answer. Didn’t ask.
He kept going anyway. I knew he would.
They always do.
“About that hit.”
I glanced up.
“What about it?”
He exhaled slowly, pressing the weight overhead.
“Someone had to do it.”
A pause.
“Yeah,” I said.
That was enough.
Another minute passed. Then—
“I’ve been looking at Sutherland.”
That got my attention.
I leaned back against the bench, watching him now.
“Yeah?”
Sebastian nodded, slower this time.
“His numbers,” he said. “Six straight wins. Two shutouts.”
I said nothing.
“Save percentage is up. Way up.” He lowered the weights, controlled. “Like… not normal up.”
“Hot streak,” I said.
He shook his head.
“No.”
Flat.
Certain.
I watched him for a second.
“You’ve got something to say,” I said. “Say it.”
He hesitated. Then—
“He wasn’t like that here.”
“No,” I agreed.
“He wasn’t even close.”
No argument there.
Sebastian stepped forward, dropping the dumbbells into the rack.
“He didn’t just get better,” he said. “Not like that. Not that fast.”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to.
Because I already knew.
He took a breath. Looked at me.
“You ever get the feeling something’s off?” he ventured.
A corner of my mouth twitched.
“Yeah,” I said.
A beat.
“Yeah, I do.”
Silence stretched between us. I pushed off the bench. Grabbed my phone.
“There’s just one thing left to do.”
Sebastian looked confused.
“What’s that?”
I looked at him.
“Call him.”
He didn’t like that. I could see it.
Didn’t matter.
I hit the number. Put it on speaker.
It rang. Once. Twice. Three—
“Yeah?”
The voice was sharp.
Flat.
Annoyed.
Carter Sutherland.
I leaned back against the rack.
“Ares.”
A beat.
Then—
“Don’t care.”
Click.
The line went dead. Sebastian blinked.
“What the hell was that?”
I stared at the phone for a second. Then hit redial.
It rang longer this time. Then—
“What?” Sutherland snapped.
“Conversation,” I said.
“Not interested.”
“Too bad.”
A pause. I could hear something in the background. Voices. Music.
He wasn’t alone.
“Look,” Sutherland said, already irritated. “I don’t owe you anything.”
“No,” I said. “You don’t.”
Another pause.
“But you’re going to talk anyway.”
Silence. Then—
A laugh.
Short. Sharp.
The kind of laugh that usually got someone punched in the mouth.
“Still think you run things over there?” he said.
I didn’t answer.
His tone shifted.
Colder.
“That your new goalie?” Sutherland said. “The kid?”
My brow furrowed.
“I can hear him breathing.”
Sebastian went still beside me.
“Put him on.”
He looked at me for a moment, then moved closer to the phone.
“It’s Sebastian,” he said, voice steady. “We played together a while back.”
A pause. Then—
“… don’t remember.”
Just like that.
I watched Sebastian’s jaw tighten. Watched the realization hit.
“Right,” Sutherland added. “You’re the one who replaced me.” He added a chuckle. “How’s that working out for you?”
Sebastian scowled. Luckily, he didn’t take the bait.
“You’re doing well,” he said carefully.
“Better than I was there,” Sutherland shot back.
“Funny how that works.”
The line crackled.
“You call to congratulate me?” he asked. “Or just waste my time?”
I cut in before Sebastian could answer.
“Something changed,” I said flatly.
Silence. Then—
“Yeah,” Sutherland said. “It did.”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
Another pause. Then—
“I got out.”
Click.
The line went dead again. Neither of us spoke for a second.
“What the hell does that mean?” Sebastian asked.
I pocketed the phone.
“Means he’s a dick.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
He scratched at the back his neck, clearly frustrated.
“He didn’t remember me,” he said. “We practiced together every day.”
“Didn’t want to,” I said.
Sebastian looked up at me.
“You think so?”
“Yeah.”
I turned the thought over a few times.
“He knew exactly who you were.”
That sat with him. I could see it working through his head.
“All of this…” he muttered. “The numbers. The games. The way he’s acting—”
“Something’s off,” I finished for him.
He nodded.
“Yeah.”
Silence again. A longer stretch.
“We should bring it to Mercer,” Sebastian said.
I didn’t move, didn’t answer. Because that wasn’t how this worked.
Not yet.
“Not yet,” I said.
Sebastian frowned.
“Why not?”
I looked at him. Really looked at him this time.
“Because if we’re wrong,” I said evenly, “we burn it down for nothing.”
“And if we’re right?”
Another pregnant pause. I exhaled tiredly.
“There’s only one thing left to do.”
He held my gaze, waiting for me to say it.
I didn’t need to.
Because I already knew.
And soon enough?
They all would.