Kai’s shoulders lift and fall once. His hands are fisted at his sides.
Coach looks between us again, and I can see him doing it—making a choice. Balancing discipline with context. Team rules with humanity. He still doesn’t make it easy.
He points at me. “That wasn’t your fight.”
I open my mouth.
Kai beats me to it, voice raw. “It was mine, but it’s also his now.”
Coach’s eyes narrow. “Is that what you wanted, Mercer? Your right winger to throw his future into the boards because some asshole couldn’t keep his mouth shut?”
Kai’s jaw clenches. “No.”
“Then why didn’t you handle it yourself?” Coach fires back.
Kai’s voice drops. “Because if I did, I don’t know if I’d be able to control myself.” The honesty hits the room like a puck off the post.
Coach stares at him for a long moment. Then he drags a hand down his face, like he’s tired in a way none of us can fix.
“All right,” he says finally. “Here’s the deal.”
He looks at me again.
“League’s going to suspend you,” he says, lifting a finger for every new reason he lays out. “Automatic. Fighting major. Instigator. They’ll call it whatever makes it feel official.”
My stomach drops, not because I didn’t know it was possible, but because I did. And fuck yes, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
I still can’t stop my mind from flashing to Harlow’s face and the way she looked at me like she didn’t know whether to thank me or smack me herself.
Coach continues, “I’ll talk to who I can talk to. I’ll argue it down. I’ll tell them the context and hope it helps soften the blow a bit.”
Kai’s head snaps up. “Coach?—”
Coach holds up a hand. “I said I’ll try. No promises.”
Then he points at me again, like he’s pinning me to the wall.
“But you,” he says. “You sit and take it. You knew what this could cost you before you threw the first punch.”
My throat tightens.
I nod once. “Yes, Coach.”
Coach’s eyes stay hard. “And you show up Monday.”
“Yes.”
He turns to Kai.
“And you,” he says, voice sharp, “you keep your captaincy in your chest and your brotherhood in your bones, and you donot,” he lowers his voice, “put your team in the middle of your family.”
Kai’s jaw trembles. “Yes, Coach.”
Coach holds his stare for one long beat, then nods once like that’s all he’s got left to give.
“Shower,” he barks to the room. “Ice. Eat. Whatever the fuck you wanna do, but get out.”
He turns and walks away. The door swings shut behind him. And the second it does, everything rushes back in—noise, movement, oxygen.
