“Shayne. You are going.” He crosses his giant arms across his huge chest. His chin juts out defiantly. “I canceled your yoga class and I’ll drive your ass myself. You. Are. Going.”
I glare at him. “You know how I feel about him. About his career. About that fucking sport.”
“Yeah, I know. I just don’t care,” he returns harshly. “Shayne, I’m the one who had issues because of hockey. Dad is the one with concussion syndrome, not you. If we can go, you can go.”
“My issues with what hockey has done to this family aren’t just about your drug problem and Dad’s health, and you know it,” I reply hotly.
I turn to leave because I am done with this conversation, and he can cancel all the classes he wants, but I’m not going. I reach for the door and he says, “You know how I deal with it? I choose to believe that Mom and Dad’s marriage would have been a joke even if Dad were a car salesman or a doctor. That they’re just fucked-up people in general and would be no matter what he did for a living.”
I stop and turn back to look at my brother. He runs a hand over his shorn head and rubs the back of his neck. He’s trying to chill himself out. He’s done that since he was a kid. “Look, Shaynie. I know you hate the things that have happened. I’m not a big fan either. But he’s your fucking father. We’re your family. Sebastian Deveau is going to eclipse Dad’s scoring record and this is the Hawks giving him his last hurrah. Just suck it up and give him a few hours, okay?”
“Can we talk about how you clearly knew Sebastian played hockey and didn’t tell me?” I change the subject and cross my arms angrily over my chest.
“That’ll teach you for having one-night stands in my laundry room.”
And shower room,I add silently.
“And let’s talk about how hypocritical it is that you keep banging him.”
“Let’s not. And that’s over. For good.”
Trey unfolds his arms and sighs, his massive shoulders heaving up, then down. “It’ll be easier for me at this ceremony thing if you’re there.”
I can’t deny him now, and he knows it. I sobbed a promise to him when he woke up from his coma that I would help him through, and I meant it. I would help him through life without hockey. Life without drugs. So if he needs me, I have to be there. “You’re serious? You mean that?”
He nods. I want to scream but instead I nod back. “Are you picking me up at my place or do you want to leave from here?”
“From here.”
“Fine.” I turn to leave, but he puts a hand on my shoulder and pulls me back into his wall of a chest for a hug.
“Thank you, Shayne.”
“You’re welcome.”
Chapter 22
Sebastian
“But it feels fine,” I argue to the trainers and the team doctor. The doctor gives me a skeptical look. I shrug. “I mean, it doesn’t hurt any more than it usually does. I’ve played with worse pain.”
“The point is, it doesn’t hurt less,” the doctor points out. “We’ve been taping it and icing it and you’ve been doing therapy treatments and it’s not getting better. So this is plan B.”
“Benching me in the last regular season game of the year? With a tribute to the team’s most iconic player?” I snarl like a petulant child. “That’s plan B?”
“Yep. And a brace.” I cringe. “I’m sorry, Sebastian.”
I look past the trainers to Coach. He gives me a smile that I’m sure he thinks is encouraging, but it comes off as more of a grimace. “We warned you that you were a game-time decision.”
“Je sais,” I mutter in French. “I know.”
“But take the skate. Be out there for the tribute since you’re the reason he’s losing his scoring record,” Coach relents. “Then get your ass up to the box, okay?”
I nod sharply because I don’t have any fucking choice. And really, he’s letting me be out there for a big team moment so at least that’s something. But fuck, I want to play. We’re playing the Barons, and I love getting under Devin Garrison’s skin out there on the ice. Jordan’s brother has an unspoken grudge against me, which is stupid because he got the girl. But Devin can’t forget that Callie once flirted with the idea of being with me. Well, I honestly don’t think she ever seriously entertained the thought. By the end of the night I knew it and she knew it. But at the time he wasn’t clued in to the fact that she was already his, so he hates me. I enjoy that extra rush I get by having to try harder because one of the best players in the league is out there to show me up. And now I’m not even playing.
I leave the training room and return to the locker room to grab my stick and put on my skates. I drop down between Westwood and Garrison and shove a foot into a skate. Jordan runs a hand through his hair and gives me a tentative smile. “In or out?”
“Out. But I’m lacing up anyway,” I mutter.
