25. Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
~ZED~
It’s a slaughter of a practice today.
To the rest of the team, it might seem as if Coach is just setting the tone for the season. Maybe opening night’s chaotic win lit a fire under his ass. Just a coach pushing his team past their limits, demanding perfection, turning a Tuesday morning skate into a high-intensity boot camp.
Only three people on this ice know what’s actually happening: me, Coach, and Dom.
I drop into my butterfly stance when the whistle shrieks like a siren through the arena.
Coach stands near the blue line, looking like he always does.
But he hasn’t looked me in the eye once since we stepped onto the ice two hours ago.
He just keeps blowing the fucking whistle, launching drill after drill straight at my net.
Suicides. Rapid-fire breakaways. Bag skates.
I’ve been under attack for the past two hours and my lungs are burning like I’ve swallowed acid. Sweat is pouring down my neck, soaking the collar of my chest protector, and every swipe of the towel across my face catches on the swell of my split lip.
Another whistle. Another sharp crack of a stick against the puck.
Jace comes flying down the slot, taking a hard wrist shot right toward my glove side. I snap my hand up, catching the puck flush with a loud, heavy thwack. I track the puck, drop it, and kick it back out to the ice, instantly resetting my stance.
Across the crease, Dom catches my eye through the steel bars of my mask. He’s breathing heavy, his hands resting on his knees, his eyes brimming with concern. He saw me walk out of his bathroom with a bloody lip the other day. He knows Bennet lost his fucking mind.
Coach double-blasts the whistle again.
“Again!” he roars, his deep voice cutting through the heavy breathing of twenty exhausted men. “Top of the circle! Rapid fire! If you miss the net, it’s your ass on the line!”
“Holy shit,” Addams mutters low, wiping sweat off his forehead. “What the fuck is up Coach’s ass today?”
“If you’re done having a tea party on my ice, you’re deadly mistaken. Get your asses back in position!” He blows his whistle twice again. “Get the hell out of the crease, Addams!”
Keep barking, Bennet. I’m not going anywhere.
The locker room clears out quickly, the guys talking in hushed, nervous tones about Coach’s ‘weird’ power trip and his scowl that could curdle milk.
I don’t join the chatter or leave when the rest of the guys do.
I just need Coach to think I am. So, I wait.
I sit on the wooden bench, unstrapping tens of pounds of goalie gear as slowly as I can, watching the clock on the wall tick down.
Lilly is currently having her skating classes with the kids.
My heart picks up the more I think about what I’m about to do. It’s been a long time coming, and there’s never going to be a right time for it. The time is now. I’ve spent too long letting this bullshit dictate what I allow myself to do.
Yeah, I can hype myself up all I want. I’m still fucking anxious.
I blow out a deep sigh, tossing my goalie pads on the bench. “Shit.”
I strip down to a pair of black sweatpants, a tight, short-sleeved compression shirt, and my player skates.
As I push through the heavy double doors leading back to the rink, the shrill echoes of screaming kids and ice-scraping blades hit my ears. My eyes sweep the rink until they find her.
Lilly is out near the far face-off circle, surrounded by a swarm of kids in mismatched helmets, patiently demonstrating a basic C-cut edge glide.
She does it so beautifully and lightly. No matter how much I try, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to achieve this level of grace.
Her soft laugh echoes off the rafters as she catches a stumbling girl by the arms. I think it’s Bethany, but I can’t tell by the helmet or from the distance I’m keeping.
A distance that keeps growing.
Shit, am I taking steps back?
Pull yourself together, dude.
We haven’t had a single accident in here. People do check-ups constantly. I was literally on that fucking ice twenty minutes ago. So why is my body frozen?
The ceiling will collapse. The light fixtures will fail. Bennet rattled them with all the hooting and hollering today. Step on that ice with kids again and it’ll be your fault again.
Fuck.
A sickening surge of panic blooms in the center of my chest. My heart starts hammering against my ribs and icy sweat breaks out along the back of my neck under my compression shirt.
It’s not going to fall. There’s a second floor up there. It’s not just metal panels. It’s secure.
Which kid should go this time? Look at their helmets and pick a color.
No!
The fucking intrusive thoughts swarm my mind, forcing me to think about things I’m desperately trying to avoid. No matter how hard I try to empty my mind, it keeps coming back, nastier, making me pick an overhead light and a child.
I literally can’t get a proper breath into my chest. It’s pathetic. I hate the blinding fear. I hate how utterly small and broken it makes me feel in my own goddamn skin. On my own fucking ice.
My skate blades dig backward into the rubber floor, my body instinctively pivoting away, ready to retreat back down the dark, safe tunnel before anyone sees me suffocating on my own bullshit. I’m right on the fucking precipice of running.
Just as I’m about to drag my ass back down the dark tunnel, two warm hands snap up to frame my jaw, fingers pressing gently against my skin.
“Zed?” Lilly’s melodic voice comes through the deafening white noise in my ears.
My vision slowly goes back into focus enough for me to see her wide eyes staring back at me. Wow, she’s so gorgeous.
She looks at me with wonder, her eyes filled with surprise and, I don’t know, pride?
“Hi,” she whispers softly, her thumbs gently stroking my cheeks. “I’m right here. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Are you here to watch?” she asks with a gentle smile. “Or do you want to join?”
“I—” I look around. I can barely form a coherent thought. “I want to…” Bolt. “Join. I think.”
Lilly’s smile grows into a breathtaking grin before she schools it into something softer. She’s trying not to make a big deal out of it so she doesn’t scare me away. I know how it works. But I don’t know how to make my legs work.
“Okay.” She nods fast.
My lungs are still fighting for oxygen, but I let her lead me. Her hands leave my face and slide down. She wraps her fingers around mine and takes two steps backward toward the ice, dragging me those few impossible inches over the threshold.
My skate blades click onto the ice.
“MERCER!”
“Guys, look!”
“No way!”
Yells and screams fill my ears as I let Lilly lead us toward the center.
“You can do this, Zed,” she whispers, giving my hand a squeeze before letting go.
In an instant, I’m swarmed. Small bodies, small sticks, and small faces looking up at me, yelling and cheering until it all blends into a homogeneous mess of sounds.
“Mercer! Zed, hi!” I look down at the kid waving in front of me.
I recognize him immediately. “Sam.”
“He remembered me!” He turns to a boy next to him with a yell before turning back to me.
I smile at him, leaning down to offer him a high-five. He charges and smacks my hand with everything he’s got and the biggest smile.
“Are you gonna play with us?!”
“You’re so tall.”
“Can you teach us something cool?”
“Miss Lilly, can he stay?”
I look up slowly, my eyes scanning the ceiling, looking for any cracks or—
Stop it.
I force my eyes down, looking at Lilly for help. It’s been too long since I’ve taught a child anything.
She gives me a reassuring nod and turns to the kids, a smile lighting up her face.
“Guess what, guys?” Lilly announces, her voice singing over the rink. “If we ask really, really nicely... maybe Mr. Mercer will run our skating drills with us today.”
Screams of excitement and ‘please’ echo off the steel rafters, making a racket that feels like an ice pick slamming directly into my temples.
I want the fuck out of here so bad. But I look down at their expectant faces, then at Lilly’s soft smile, and I force the panic down.
Just run a damn drill. No small children will be hurt.
I force my shoulders back and clap my hands together twice. The sharp, loud sound echoes, instantly cutting through the kids’ noise.
“Alright, listen up,” I call out. “We already lost too much time.”
I glance reflexively up at the light fixtures and ceiling before my eyes snap back down to the ice. “Pucks in the corner. Everyone line up on the goal line.”
They scramble like ducklings, tiny skates clattering and scraping as they line up.
“We’re doing basic edge work,” I say and skate toward the center circle. “C-cuts without lifting your blades. You push out with the inside edge of your skate, carve a half-moon into the ice, and bring it back to center.”
“Can you show us?” Sam yells.
I glance at Lilly, who shrugs, her grin still plastered on her face.
I turn back to the kids. “Yeah. Okay, I want everyone’s eyes on me.”
I force my body into a deep knee bend, gliding forward on my left skate while carving a smooth arc into the ice with my right.
It’s muscle memory, something I’ve done a million times, but right now, every second of it physically hurts.
The exertion forces my lungs to work harder, pulling in cold air that burns like fire, making the panic flare up.
I snap my head up, checking the ceiling again, my jaw tightening before turning back to face them.
“Got it?” I ask, halting to a stop.
After a collective sound of agreement from everyone, I nod.
“Okay. First three in line, go,” I order, keeping my voice even. “Keep your hips low. Mike, drop your butt. You’re leaning too far forward.”
“He knows my name!” Mike giggles to the kid next to him and corrects his form.
I do know them. I know every single one of them.
Sam wobbles forward as well, trying his best to carve the curve. I skate alongside him, keeping my pace slow, my body hunched slightly as I reach down with my hand to nudge his hip lower.
“There. Feel that edge bite into the ice? That’s where your power comes from. Good. Keep going.”
I move down the line, correcting ankles, adjusting stick positions, forcing myself to act the way they expect while my brain is completely on fire. I show a little girl how to transfer her weight, stepping in to catch her by the arm before her skate slips out from under her.
It’s torture. Pure sensory overload. But I have to admit, watching their faces light up when they finally get the edge to bite feels nice.
I’m not doing this out of pure selfless nobility. I’m not standing here just to be a good guy. Yes, I want to teach these kids. Yes, I desperately need Lilly to see that I can do this.
But I’m out here for myself. And I’m out here for my brother.
I’m doing this because I refuse to let the past keep me chained in the dark forever. I need to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m not permanently poisoned by old ghosts.
“Okay, everyone stop,” I call out and raise a hand to stop the next group.
I glance up at the high ceiling one more time.
It’s still there, you paranoid moron. Keep going.
“You guys are hacking at the ice,” I tell them, gesturing toward their jagged white skate marks. “You’re fighting the surface instead of using it. C-cuts are supposed to be fluid.”
“Miss Lilly.” I turn toward the prettiest girl in the world, who’s currently chewing on the inside of her cheek with her hands on her hips.
“Yes.” She immediately straightens her posture.
“Why don’t you show them how it’s actually done?”
A spark of heat flashes between us.
“Of course,” she says softly, her eyes holding mine for a beat longer than necessary before she glides smoothly to the head of the line.
She drops into a low, perfect stance and pushes off.
I watch her move, completely mesmerized.
Lilly doesn’t just skate, she flows. There’s an effortless, hypnotic grace to the way her edges bite into the surface, carving smooth, flawless half-moons without a single wasted movement or jagged turn. She looks like she was born on the ice.
Lilly glides to an easy stop right beside me, her cheeks flushed pink as she looks up at me with a shy smile.
Do I make my little snowflake nervous to skate?
“Like that?” she asks.
“Just like that,” I whisper, my voice dropping low as I glance back down at the kids. “This was a perfect example of what I want to see.”
Twenty minutes in, my throat is raw and my jaw aches from grinding my teeth.
I’m handling it, but the pressure in my chest is redlining and I need a break.
I glide over to where Lilly corrects the posture of one of the girls.
“Lilly,” I say, and she looks up.
“Alright, do it again now,” she says to the girl before straightening to look at me. “You’re doing so good, Zed.”
“Thank you, but I need to step off. I’m sorry.”
She reaches up and places her hand on my forearm.
“Zed,” she whispers, her voice thick but steady. “You’ve done more than enough. No need to be sorry.”
“I just need to clear my head,” I explain. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby to drive you home.”
“Go.” She nods, her fingers giving my arm a squeeze. “You killed it out here.”
I nod and turn for the exit. I glance over my shoulder, seeing the kids barking at each other over who gets to take the first shot on the open net, distracted. My eyes go back to Lilly, who’s still looking at me with a proud smile.
It’s that smile that makes me pivot on my edges and stride back to her.
“Fuck it.”
Before she can utter a word, I grab her by the waist with one hand, hauling her against me and bringing her mouth to mine. She gasps into my mouth, and I use the opportunity to slip my tongue in, caressing hers as she tries to keep up with me.
I pull back a couple of seconds later and make sure she’s stabilized before I let go of her waist. I look down at her startled eyes, my thumb dragging across her bottom lip.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” I murmur.
I leave her to finish up with the kids and step off the ice, heading for the lobby as the sounds of skates and excited voices fade behind me.
The adrenaline is still coursing through my veins as I throw my duffel on one of the couches in the lobby and drop next to it. I fish my phone out of my pocket, pull up YouTube, and tap on one of my latest searches—a video I’ve replayed way too many times over the past few days.
My eyes track the movement on the screen. I know every single frame by heart at this point, but I analyze it again, memorizing the movements, picking apart the mechanics with focus.
It’s not just my bed that has monsters underneath. And if I’m clearing out mine, I’m also getting rid of Lilly’s.