Page 142 of Rules

“Short version?” I barely notice her subtle nod before continuing. “My mother is a drug addict and alcoholic who is out of control. She owes money. A lot of money to some really dangerous people who know how to get to me if she doesn’t pay up. And to top it all off, I just found out I’m pregnant. Carrying the child of a guy who doesn’t want anything to do with me, didn’t even want to listen to me when I went to tell him, and for all his words, I’m sure he’s in love with my best friend.” I meet her with a hard stare. “So tell me, Teach, what’s your perspective onthat?”

My heart thumps in my chest while I wait for her to say something. No, not something. I wait for her judgment and disbelief.

No matter how hard I try to reassure myself that it doesn’t matter what people think of me, it’s all bullshit. Everyone cares what people think. Me included. We all want to be perceived as worthy. Worthy of trust, worthy of love, worthy of the life that’s been given to us. And for all my bravado, I’m no different than the rest of them.

You’re worthy.

Much good that did me.

As I stare at her, waiting for the nail that will seal my coffin, I can swear I see a mist in her eyes. But whether it’s real or just a play of light, in the blink of an eye, it’s gone.

Her hands, still holding on to mine, give me a tight squeeze. “What are you going to do?”

My lips part on a soft gasp. I expected a lot of things, but this sure as hell wasn’t one of them. Stunned into silence, I feel the now familiar burning sensation in my eyes.

Tilting my head back, I sniffle, blinking the glossiness away.

I’m not going to break.

And then I tell her my plan.

Chapter Fifty-Two

MAX

“What the hell was that, Sanders?” I stop at the end of the line, panting. “My grandma moves faster than you, and she’s been buried for the past decade! Again.”

I see the looks the guys give me as I get back to the beginning of the line. Taking a puck from the side, I get in starting position and repeat the drill, pushing myself harder than before.

There are three plastic cones on the ice. I circle each one of them and then switch to do a full circle on the outside to get to the goal from the other side. Jack, our goalie, is standing in the net, our gazes lock. I take a swing and shoot.

“Dammit.” I lift my hands in exasperation. If I didn’t know Coach's watchful eyes were on me, I’d throw the damn stick.

“If you keep shooting like that, we’ll have to warn them to raise the net over the top of the rink. Home runs don’t count on the ice,” Coach says dryly, but I don’t miss the look of disappointment in his eyes. Thankfully, I don’t have to look at it much longer, because he turns around and shouts, “What the hell are you all waiting for? We’re not done. Hill, you’re up.”

* * *

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Sanders?” Derek slides next to me just as I shut the door to my locker with more force than necessary, the metal rattling from the impact.

“Just an off day,” I grit. More like off week, not that I’m going to admit it out loud.

Like they need an explanation. They all have eyes.

Dropping the last of my things into my duffle, I throw it over my shoulder, ready to get out of here.

The locker room is quiet. Most of the guys decided to leave without showering since Coach kept us an hour longer than usual. We ran drills until our muscles were screaming for release and the sweat was dripping on the ice underneath our feet. Even then, he let us go reluctantly, making sure we knew the repercussions if we missed the morning skate tomorrow. With the biggest game of our lives just around the corner, I could understand where he’s coming from. But the fire I had in me for it, the need to win it all, it’s gone.

I try to turn around to go, but Derek’s hand connects with the locker next to my head, preventing me from leaving.

“I know a lot has happened…”

“You don’t know shit, King,” I say, looking over his shoulder so I don’t have to meet his stare. “So why don’t you let it be.”

“I’m not going to let it be. I know you’re scared. I know what happened with Jeanette messed with your head, but I need you out there.” He points in the direction of the now-empty rink. “The whole team needs you out there if we want to win this thing.”

“It’s just a game!”

How can he not see it? In the grand scheme of things, hockey is irrelevant. It’s just a game we play to keep the masses entertained for a few hours. To give them something to take their minds off of how shitty their everyday life is.

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