Prologue
NOAH
This fucking sucks.
Eight years in the league, one bad injury, and now I’ve been dumped without ceremony. It’s not like it’s my fault that my knee wouldn’t cooperate. Instead of heading into the playoffs with the Black Diamonds, I’m standing outside the boards watching my new team play.
The Nashville Knights.
Arguably the worst team in the league.
Seriously. This fucking sucks.
And I’m not even in Nashville yet. I had enough time to pack a bag in Denver, fly to San Jose for the game tonight, and then I’ll travel with the team back to Nashville after a short stretch of away games.
I can’t even learn the ice here because it’s not my home ice. Not like I’d get any actual playing time tonight since it’s my first day with the team.
I twist the stick currently in my hand, trying to ward off all the bad feelings that are threatening to overwhelm me.
“Noah. Good to have you here.” Coach Andrews claps me on the shoulder as I turn to face him.
He’s one of the younger coaches in the league, brought in this year to help the flailing Knights try to find the greatness that I’ve been used to my entire career. With a shaved head and thick Coke-bottle glasses, he is the furthest thing you’d expect from a head coach.
But after playing in the league for a few years, he started coaching in college and made quite the name for himself.
Maybe he’ll help turn this team around.
I guess,my teamaround. That is going to take a while to wrap my head around.
“Thanks, Coach.” I stick out my hand for him to shake.
“Nice to not be the only new guy around here.”
“Hopefully we’ll both adjust quickly,” I tell him.
“Then what do you say we get started? You won’t be starting against San Jose tonight, but we thought it’d be good to get your skates under you today.”
“Sounds good.”
Even though I resent him the tiniest bit—well, not him, but the team—I’m ready to get out on the ice. It’s the one place I feel most comfortable. Even if I might be out of my element with a brand-new team.
It feels like the first day of school as I follow Coach Andrews out onto the ice. He blows the whistle to halt practice and brings everyone’s attention to where we’re standing.
“Alright, men. I’d like to introduce your newest teammate, Noah Fields. We’re lucky to have a player of his caliber join us, so make sure you all make him feel welcome.”
A few people call out in greeting as my eyes flit across all of them. I have no idea how these guys will react to me. No idea how they play.
Are they selfish with the puck? Are they willing to learn from a more seasoned player? Are we going to continue to be at the bottom of the league every year?
And that’s when I see him.
Graham fucking Fisher.
The entire reason I’m here to start with. He’s standing back with a few of my new teammates, all guys I recognize from playing against them over the years. Even though we only see each other in passing here and there, faces have become familiar. A quick hello sometimes after games.
Marcus Evans.
Jasper Hayes.
