Yeah, he’s intense. And not always in a good way, but there’s no denying his intentions do appear to stem from caring. He just . . . doesn’t always express it in the right ways.
“What’s got you daydreaming?” Rinne hands me a cup of coffee.
“Thanks.” I take a sip, then glance around the rink. “Just taking it in. Some of the guys are finally seeing me as a coach, others . . . not so sure. It’s like I’m still on probation.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing great, especially with Henneman. Kid’s coming around. Looking more confident out there.”
“What about Nieminen?”
Rinne lets out a full-on belly laugh. “You kidding? That man is so happy to share the migraine this team gives him. Yeah, he’s snippy. But more like the way my wife just looks at me and says,‘They’re all yours now’ the moment I get home because she’s had enough.”
Not sure what that’s like, the having kids part, though I used to think about it some.
Taking another sip of coffee, I look over at Rinne. He’s a good dad from what I can tell. Always calls his kids before practice, shows me tons of videos. And I can appreciate it more when he occasionally complains about going from working with Viktor, then home to his son who’s just as demanding for attention.
“How’d you get through to Henneman, anyway?”
I grin as I swirl my cup around. “Easy when we’re both the new guys walking onto the championship team. Nerves are the same. Expectations are the same. We just have different roles.”
“Gotta ask. What’s with him and showers?”
Something I’ve noticed too. Not everyone showers at the rink, but even at away games he doesn’t. Not sanitary, especially with all that sweat. Some of the players have started teasing him about it. “Not sure. Trying to figure out a way to casually bring it up.”
“Tread carefully. Saw his hand start shaking one day when Knight backed him into one of the stalls. You know how some of the team is, bunch of fucking bullies.”
“Knight hurt him.” I clench my jaw a bit too hard.
“Not that I can tell. Outside of the one incident, I don’t see Henneman backing down even when Knight goes after him on the ice.”
My attention drifts over to the players getting on the ice, specifically number twenty-seven, Knight. I know exactly what he’s capable of. And what makes me nearly lose my shit is when I see Viktor idle up to the guy.
“Start warming up.” Nieminen blows his whistle, then walks to us. “Harper, you got everything set up for video review later?”
“Yup. Want to get some one-on-one time with some of the newer players. Mind if I pull them early?”
“Do what you gotta do. We have a title to defend.”
Rinne skates off to work with Viktor and our back-up goalie, while Nieminen works with the offense, leaving me with the defense. It takes no more than five minutes before Knight goes at Henneman like the rookie is his personal chew toy.
“Zach, focus or get the fuck off my ice.” My voice is deep, my words hard. “He’s not going to learn anything if he’s always watching his back from one of his own.”
He looks over at me, eyes practically void, the only hint of emotion the tiny lift of his upper lip. And just for good measure, he cross checks Henneman, knocking him on his ass.
“To my office now! The rest of you go with Coach Nieminen.”
The team and coaches all stare, but I catch the tiny smirk on Nieminen’s face. Knight slams his stick across the boards as he exits, and when I turn toward the net, Viktor’s eyes bounce between me and his friend, but he doesn’t lift the goalie helmet, so I can’t read his expression.
Once inside the small office, I slam the door and point at Knight. “What the actual fuck is your problem! Why are you going at Henneman like that?”
“He doesn’t belong here.” His voice is calm, cold, and fully controlled. “Just because Crestwood let some scholarship student onto the team doesn’t mean he’s any good.”
“Listen, you entitled prick, I never want to hear that type of shit from your mouth again toward any of your teammates. Got it? I can’t control what you say to anyone else, but I protect my players so keep that shit to yourself.”
He just stares, his body calm. No hint of remorse, no hint of stress. “He doesn’t belong, but he’ll get the message sooner or later.”
The university warned me about the students here. How their families run everything. Nieminen did too, specifically mentioning Viktor and his friends. But enough is enough. I don’t care how rich their parents are. I won’t stand by and let this piece of shit hurt people.
I step into his space, my face inches from him. “Touch him again and you’re done. Mommy and Daddy won’t be able to help you.”
