“Leave me alone!” I turn away and bury my face in my bear's worn fur, eyes squeezed shut, unable to stop shaking.
“Look at me.”
“Get out! Please!” My voice cracks, high and desperate like I’m eleven again, when everything ended. “Please! Please! Just get out!”
A moment later, a door closes.
I stay like that, sobbing into the teddy bear until I eventually calm enough to open my eyes. Connor’s gone. Not sure if he’s in the bathroom or if he left the dorm completely.
Doesn’t matter.
He saw. He saw me shatter into pieces.
And now he’s going to use it to control me.
To torture me.
I drop down onto my bed and curl into a ball, clutching my bear close. The room spins a little at the edges, making my stomach roil. I squeeze my eyes shut again and focus on the fur beneath my cheek, waiting for everything to settle.
Sophomore year was supposed to be a step forward. I was supposed to work harder, play better, prove I belong here. Instead, it's falling apart before the season begins.
Just like that day not all of us made it home.
Chapter 5
Connor
The glass doors to the Crestwood Ice Complex hiss open, cold air slapping me in the face. I step through, equipment bagdigging into my shoulder, muscles so tense they could snap.
First practice of the season. It should feel like coming home. Instead, it's like skating into the offensive zone with all five opposing players converging. Every muscle is primed for the hit that's coming.
Time to face my friends.
No one’s dropped by since they got back, not even to kick my ass. Not that I’ve reached out either.
Fuck.
I swear it’s Feisty Mouse’s fault we’ve become caring. Before he came along, I always put myself first, never feeling guilty for it. Now, even with all the shit going on in my life, it gnaws at me that I missed the wedding.
Better they didn’t stop by, not with my fucking parents' home. I could barely stand being in the housefor the three days before I got to move into the dorm. Even contemplated getting my gun from the lock box hidden in the wall of my closet and ending all this bullshit.
But parricide would have just landed me in a different kind of prison. So, I fucking drank myself stupid in my room every fucking day until I passed out.
I walk through the lobby toward the locker rooms.
Viktor and Zach aren’t the only ones I have to deal with today. Henneman wasn't in the room when I returned last night. And when I woke up this morning, his bed was still made, that damn teddy bear sitting on the pillow like a fucking accusation.
I waited until twenty minutes before practice to leave. Figured the coward would show up eventually. His gear was still in our room.
But time ran out, and I needed to leave. Doesn’t look good if the captain is late.
Where the fuck is he?
My grip tightens around my stick. That breakdown yesterday was similar to Merci’s. The way Henneman completely shattered when I'd gotten too close. How he kept repeating “please” like a broken record.
For one fucked-up second, my hand moved toward him to offer comfort. But caring, giving a damn, that’s how my father wins. I'd rather die than let that happen. So, I did the smart thing and left.
Taking a deep breath, I push open the locker room door. Someone nearly runs into me. I shove past him, and he falls on his ass, all wide-eyed. This one won’t last long.
