“Alright,” said Ryan, and Jett immediately went on the defensive at his tone. “Down to business because Adams told me to deliver the message.”
Hereallywasn’t going to like this.
“Management, your agent, and everyone in between have been coming up with a game plan because there’s already been some drama circling. You’re going to take a few days off to heal that shoulder—Danny will be stopping in daily to do stretches and make sure everything is in perfect condition.”
That was…fine so far.
“And I’m going to make a statement on your behalf to shut everyone up, so don’t fret about dealing with the media shitstorm because I got you.”
And that was not so fine. Jett didn’t understand what the big deal was. His brother killed people, so what? Why was that relevant to him?
“Why do they care?” Jett asked, pulling at the insides of his pockets. “Why the fuck does it matter?”
“Because there are still people out there who hate the fact that you’re one of the top players in the league,” said Ryan. He put his hand on Jett’s thigh and squeezed it to keep him from shaking. “Because the media can be bribed by managers from other teams to ask stupid questions that might throw a player off his game, increasing their team’s chances of winning. And because sometimes people are assholes, and they’ll do anything to get their ratings up.”
All his reasons made sense, but knowing it didn’t make him feel any better.
“It’s not like you can say any of that,” Jett said bitterly. “What’s the point in having a press conference if we can’t address the issue?”
Jett was staring at his feet, but he could hear the smile in Ryan’s voice when he spoke. “We follow the Canadian way and kill them with kindness. We’ll be so fucking nice they won’t even realize we’re telling them off right to their faces.”
Jett’s smile was small, but it was there.
“Are you boys ready to eat?” his dad called from the kitchen. “I hope I made enough…”
Fuck, he forgot about his dad. Jett had sat on the couch without bothering to go over and greet him, and now he felt…awkward. He never felt awkward with his dad, but this was a weird situation that they both had to navigate.
“I actually need to get things ready for the press conference, and Jace and I need to be on a plane to Boston shortly,” said Ryan. “I think we’ll get out of your hair, Mr. Fraser.”
His father made a disgruntled sound. “At least make a few tacos for you and your friend before you leave, Mr. Sunburst Captain.”
“Why am I just thefriendinstead of being Mr. Sunburst Goalie?” Jason said from the direction of the window. “I want a cool title too.”
“Titles are for grown-ups,” said Max. “You still have one more growth spurt to get through.”
Jett didn’t know if the joking was better or worse for his fucked-up brain. He kept trying to lift his head and join the conversation, but he felt so heavy. Talking felt like a momentous hill that he couldn’t overcome.
He stared at his socks as people moved around him. Jett was aware of Jason’s hug, Ryan’s words of encouragement, and Max’s kisses on his cheeks, but he couldn’t bring himself to react.
Time stopped working between the point of the trio’s departure and the moment when his father’s face appeared when he knelt in front of him.
“Hey, Jetty-boy. Care to hug your old man?”
Jett’s breath wrenched painfully inside of his lungs, making him feel like he was suffocating. He slid off the couch into his father’s arms, wrapping his body around him like he sometimes did with Harrison.
Robert lost his balance and fell over, but he was too busy brushing Jett’s hair and comforting him to care.
“That was such bullshit,” said his dad. “What a bunch of bastards.”
The tears were back, and shame burned his insides. He was a grown man clinging to his father like a child. It felt so embarrassing, but heneededthis damn hug.
“I’m sorry, Dad—”
“Please don’t be, Jett.” Robert hugged him hard and then let him go, separating them enough so he could meet Jett’s eyes. “You’re as stubborn as me, so I know you’re not going to believe me when I say this, but I’m doing it anyway. You havenothingto be sorry for. Not a goddamn thing.”
“That’s impossible,” said Jett, sniffling. “I have to take some responsibility because Chase was my brother. I can’t wipe my hands of this and leave it for you to carry all on your own.”
Robert groaned and stiffly got back to his feet, bringing Jett along with him. “And why can’t I?”
