Page 19 of Rush the Edge

Cindy breathes out a huge sigh of relief. “Wonderful!”

I smile sweetly, but on the inside, I’m filled with mischievous glee.Fuck you, Kane.

His plan of pissing me off is backfiring. Now, I’m not only living in his apartment complex but I’m also going to be at his place of employment too. I sure hope he enjoys seeing me around.

“Are there any sort of medical issues I need to be aware of? This job isn’t as strenuous as playing hockey, but I can assure you that it isn’t easy to put that thing on and skate.”

Silence fills the large room with her question. Cindy’s soft eyes wait patiently for me to answer her, hope clear as day on her face.

I swallow the unease and choose to fill her in because it’s unsafe not to. If something were to happen, or I have a bad flare and can’t come to work, she needs to be aware.

“Well…” My voice is bumpy. “I have Lupus.” I glance at the Blue Devil head and continue on. “It’s an autoimmune disease and the entire reason I’ve moved to Chicago. One of the best specialists is here, and he has his own infusion clinic.” The words tumble out of my mouth quickly. “I’m currently in remission, but if I were to fall into a flare and become ill, I may have to take a few games off.”

Hopefully that won’t happen.

I pride myself on the steps I’ve taken to keep my health intact, and I don’t expect to stop now.

“Oh,” Cindy’s voice softens. “I had no idea. Kane didn’t?—”

I interrupt her. “He doesn’t know. It’s not something I broadcast.” Plus, why would Kane even care? “It’s easier to carry on with life and try not to let it control me. I should be fine,” I try to reassure her, just like I’m constantly doing with my mom. “But I want you to be aware.”

“I appreciate that.” She reaches her hand out and softly pats mine. “And it can be our secret. I’ll give you my personal number too. That way, if something happens and you can’t make it, I’ll be able to find a quick replacement for the evening.”

I exhale, relief settling into my shoulders.

After removing her hand, she places a stack of papers in front of me. “Let’s start filling these out, and I can fill you in on a few other things you’ll be required to do as the mascot—media shoots and things like that.”

I nod and grab the pen to start filling out all the paperwork.

Halfway through, she tells me the salary. Regardless if Kane set this interview up to be a dick, the pay is much more than I expected. With the funds, I’ll be able to help River with rent, afford any new medications or infusions if needed, andsave up for my future that has felt out of reach since I became sick for the first time.

Eight

KANE

“Fucking shit.”I throw my broken stick off to the side, pissed that it snapped right before I was going to send a puck flying into the net.

I skate over to the bench and take the stick that’s being held out for me. It doesn’t feel right. It’s not taped the way I like: black tape, toe to heel, fifteen loops around the blade—any more or any less and I can tell.

Another one of my quirks, but if it helped me get to the pros, then I’m not sure anyone has the right to say shit about it.

The puck slips against my untapped blade, and I growl quietly.

Practice is almost over, but we have a home game in three nights, so the more honed we are on our own ice, the better.

We’rethisclose to making the playoffs—something this team has yet to do since I joined.

“Whoa.” Malaki skates close and stops a few feet away. “Who isthat?”

Rhodes, one of our veteran players, growls. “I swear to god, if I look over and you’re talking about Sunny…”

“Sunny is old news, Grandpa. No one wants your nanny,” Malaki says.

I chuckle and try flinging another puck down the ice. Somehow, Emory, our goalie, blocks it without even looking like he’s paying attention.Fucker.

“I want your nanny.” I wiggle my eyebrows and grin. I say it just to piss him off.

“Shut the hell up, Barlow.”

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