Page 51 of Hard to Handle

The reason hockey feels more like a prison than a job. A game.

The guilt.

Shame.

Self-loathing.

C’mon, Hunter. Tonight’s your night.

Those words from my twin so very long ago echo in my ears and ring true now.

Tonight is my night.

Every night is.

And I hate every minute of it.

And I’m the reason why.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

DEKKER

I WATCH THE GAME FROM the nosebleed seats.

It’s where I prefer to sit. My AirPods are in, the local announcers are giving the play-by-play in my ear, and the game unfolds in front of me while I’m wrapped in my own world.

“Look, Bob. I’m not going to complain that Mad Dog Maddox showed up to play tonight, but it does look like there’s a little trouble in paradise. Unless I’m mistaken, when Withers came up on him before that last period, I thought Maddox was going to take a swing at his own teammate.”

Shit.

Announcers are noticing.

How can they not? When Callum came up to get his attention from behind, Hunter whirled on him with his fist cocked back and so much anger etched in his face, his intention was all but unmistakable.

Management has to see it.

Fans won’t be far behind.

“Or maybe you read it all wrong,” Bob says.

“I know what it looked like to me and that, mixed with his poor performance last game, has me wondering if he’s losing his edge.”

“Losing his edge? No way. Not Maddox,” Bob counters. “Everyone has an off game.”

“An off game is one thing, but there have been rumors during the past few months about discord in the team over Maddox,” Steve says.

“Of course there is. The tension is just as high as the expectations over us gunning for the Cup. It’s bound to surface somewhere. Besides, you said it yourself, they’re just rumors.”

“Let’s hope the boys can keep it together and bring this thing home for us . . . if not, I’m afraid of the fire sale that might happen.”

“Fire sale? Are you implying the Jacks will get rid of Maddox if they don’t reach the playoffs?” Bob gasps. “That’s blasphemy. Boo, fair-weather fan.”

Steve laughs. “That wouldn’t be my option of choice, but seriously, how much longer can a club like the Jacks keep a player like Maddox?”

“Let’s hope forever.” Bob chuckles.

“To be the voice of reason—”