All I want to do is make her happy. Love her. Give her the wings she needs to fly.
And get her away from her dad.
She just has to give me the chance.
The first person I see when I skate onto the ice for warm-ups is Blake—my best friend for the last six years. We met playing for the Rebels, moved in together, and he helped me raise Billie. He’s like another big brother to her, and the three of us spent a lot of time together. From what I understand, he and his wife Rowan, who’s an assistant trainer for the Phantoms, hang out with Billie and Rome quite a bit. I’m glad that relationship is still strong because I know in a pinch he’d be there for her if I couldn’t.
“Looking good, bro.” Blake hugs me warmly.
He’s not the kind of guy who gives a shit what anyone thinks. And everyone in the Phantoms organization already knows how close we are.
“How’s things?” I ask him.
“Good! How about you?” His eyes twinkle. “I hear you have a girlfriend.”
I look around before whispering, “Yeah. Her name is Jayne.Morrison.”
His eyes widen as he stares at me. “Your coach’s daughter?”
Then he throws back his head and laughs long and hard.
“Shut up,” I grumble, kicking him in the skate.
“Oh, that’s rich. Even for you.” He shakes his head fondly. “What the fuck, man? You like living on the wild side? Also, why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“I didn’t want to jinx anything,” I admit. “Besides, I knew I’d see you in person tonight, so I figured it would be more fun this way.”
“Well, my coach is giving me the stink eye, so I’m going to move along. But you’re not leaving tonight, right? If you’re not on lockdown, you want to come over? I’d like to meet your new lady friend.”
“Does Billie tell you everything?” I demand.
“No. But she tellsRowanalmost everything.”
We both laugh.
“I’ll text you after,” I say, before skating over to take my place shooting at Vik, who’s in net during the warm-up. Usually, the starting goalie sits out of the warm-up if he’s playing in the game. Which means Coach is putting Simon in.
It’s only the second game of the season and we had a day off in between, so that’s going to fuck with Vik’s head. And it seems counter-productive from where I’m sitting. But I’m not the head coach of a pro hockey team.
Looking over at him, he’s expressionless, but I know him well enough by now to recognize the tic in his cheek. The way he’s taking in everything going on. The way he doesn’t look at anyone directly.
Fuck.
This isn’t how you treat the guy who’s supposed to be your starting goalie. And Viktor Maslov is a great fucking goalie. He struggled to earn his place in Alaska because Aaron Ferrar is a fucking superstar. This was supposed to be Vik’s shot—and Coach appears to be fucking with him.
Why is this guy such a dick? I try not to armchair quarterback my coaches. They usually know what they’re doing.
But this time I’m skeptical.
There’s something off about Coach Morrison and deep in my gut, I feel like the negativity has just begun. I’ve also gotten aglimpse into him as a father and I don’t like him in that role any better than this one.
“I have an announcement, gentlemen.” Coach comes into the locker room as we get ready to line up. He holds up a jersey with West’s number—number twenty-five—and the C embroidered into the shoulder. “McGregor is your new captain.”
Everyone starts to clap and whistle, a few of us slapping him on the shoulder.
“Thanks, everyone.” He looks around. “I want you to know that I take this position seriously—both on and off the ice. We’re new, we’re unknown, and we have the opportunity to do great things. The goal, beyond winning, is becoming a family. Where we can count on each other through the good and the bad.” He looks around. “And become friends who trust each other. Now let’s get out there and show the Phantoms who we are.”
More cheering and clapping, a few whistles, more encouragement.
