“He was talking,” I manage.
“Yeah, I heard some of it,” Coach says, voice flat. “Rylan’s got a mouth. I know that. But talking gets a man’s head put through a locker now? Is that how we’re doing things?”
I stay silent.
I can’t tell him.
I can’t say her name.
Not now. Not here.
He exhales, a rough breath that sounds more tired than furious. “Reid, I’ve seen you take hits that would knock other guys’ teeth out, and you don’t even flinch. I have never seen you lose it like that.” His gaze sharpens, waiting for the reason, the truth he knows exists. “Did he cross a line?”
The question is a lifeline I refuse to take.
My jaw locks. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does if it has you trying to choke one of my wingers in front of the whole room,” he snaps back. “You don’t get to handle it that way. Not on my team. We talked, Reid. In the tunnel. I told you I trusted you.”
The wordtrustedlands like a body blow.
“I thought you were the anchor, the one I didn’t have to worry about.” His voice lowers, quieter but no softer. “You’re better than this.”
He thinks this is about me. He thinks I’m a psycho.
The irony thickens the air.
He has no idea I was defending her. No clue Rylan’s words were the real filth.
“Rylan will talk,” Coach says, rubbing a hand over his face, exhaustion seeping through his control. “The team saw it. You think this stays in this room? You just handed the board a reason to look at you. I can’t defend this.”
He studies me, waiting for me to crack, to offer something he can use. I give him nothing. To protect her. To shield her from the filth of Rylan’s words.
His shoulders firm. Decision made. “You’re benched next game.”
My stomach drops, even though I expected it.
“Coach—”
He shakes his head once. “I don’t have a choice. I have to show I handled it. You sit. We cool this down, and then you earn it back. But hear me, Reid.” His eyes pin me in place. “You pull something like that again, I won’t be able to keep them off you. I can’t save your spot if you become a liability.”
He steps closer, invading my space.
“And another thing.”
My pulse spikes.
“I saw you atThe Box,” he says. “I saw you sitting with Talia.” His gaze shifts from anger to something colder—protective. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head today. Maybe it’s the pressure. Maybe it’s something else. But you’re volatile. I see it.” He lowers his voice, a warning shot. “You keep a professional distance from my daughter. I can’t have you near her when you’re like this. She’s dealing with enough without getting caught in your blast radius.”
It’s not the threat I expected. It’s worse.
Because he’s right.
“Yes, Coach,” I grind out, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
He holds my gaze one more long, heavy second before nodding once, accepting what I cannot offer.
“Get dressed,” he says. “Go clear your head.”
