And with that, I’m gone.
Leaving my heart in the hands of a man who I wish could love me back.
Life fucking sucks.
Chapter Twenty-Four
GRAHAM
“Nashville. Number ninety-eight. Two minutes for cross-checking.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Marcus shoves me toward the sin bin. “You’re lucky they didn’t toss you out of the game!”
“They’re playing like assholes!” I shout back at Marcus, tugging at my helmet. “Maybe if they weren’t such dicks!”
Raising my voice, I egg on the other team. I can’t help myself. These last two weeks have been some of the worst of my playing career.
Cheap shots? I’ve been the king of them. Taking out my anger on anyone that crosses paths with me.
Boos rain down on me from the home crowd. Hard to blame them when I just gave the other team a power play.
“Get your head out of your ass, Fisher!” a fan shouts from behind me as the door shuts me into the tiny box. “You want them to beat us?”
I do my best to ignore the chirps and insults thrown my direction as play starts up again. I’m following the puck, watching our defensemen trying to block Dallas from gettinginto our zone. A few quick moves from one of their forwards and they’ve scored.
“Fuck.” One well-timed goal and they’re ahead of us. “Fuck.”
I slam my stick against the boards before exiting the sin bin to even more boos. I can’t remember a time when I’ve ever played this bad.
My head isn’t in the game. It’s the furthest thing from being here in our arena in Nashville. Hell, it’s probably where my heart is right now.
In Denver.
Because ever since Noah left, things haven’t been okay.
I’ve been half-assing practice, games…hell, even life. It feels like I’m skating through mud getting back to the bench.
An angry stare from the assistant coach greets me as he opens the door for me to take my spot on the bench.
“Get your head in the game, Fisher,” Coach Andrews tells me as I grab my water bottle. “No more stupid penalties. We don’t want to give them this game.”
“Got it.”
I take a swig as I watch the puck drop at center ice. Any other time, I’d be watching Noah take the puck.
With him gone, Dax has stepped up into his position.
And I fucking hate it.
It’s Noah’s starting spot, not Dax’s. No matter how well he’s doing, I want to go out there and rip it away from him. I don’t care that we’re on the same team. It’s like I’m not supporting Noah by wanting him to do well.
This is why I haven’t been able to keep my head on straight. It’s been tied up with and about Noah. I can’t keep going on like this.
“Fisher! You’re up.” The slap on my back has me flying over the boards and back into the action. For the next however manyminutes I’m on the ice, I push every single thought out of my head.
It’s not my best skating, but at least I manage not to draw another penalty. It’s what allows me to push through the rest of the game as the Knights secure a win over Dallas.
No thanks to me.
