Page 139 of Jaded

“How goodIhad it—” I surge forward one step, fists lifted, because I am gonna hit him, like I’ve wanted to for seventeen years. Who’s got the scars, the scabs, the bruises on his knuckles? Who skates the Ice Out once a week? Who, truly, has ice in his veins and cold in his blood?

But another hand on my shoulder stops me.

“Dad!” Sydney’s barked voice is a bucket of ice water on my anger. “Dad! Don’t . . . Please.”

Please. It’s the desperate note in that one word that reaches me. I step back, lower my fists. Puffing like a bull. “Let’s just fucking go.”

Nobody protests this time. I lead Syd out of the house. Into the car. Away from the people who once treated me like I was nothing.

We don’t talk on the way home.

But I know Syd’s mad at me.

I pull the car onto the highway, the wind humming in the windows. We sit in silence, like we know something needs to be said, but neither of us knows what. Or who should say it.

So finally, I break the silence. “Syd . . .”

“You always have to end it in a fight, don’t you?”

My teeth grind together. Anger and shame war for control of my emotions; she’s right, she’s so right. My fingers grip the wheel, knuckles white. “He’s not a good person, Syd.”

“And I’m not a little kid!” The anger in her voice takes me aback. Syd doesn’t get mad at me; we don’t fight much, never have. “You can’t keep me in a box.”

“No,” I agree, if reluctantly. She’s not the baby I tucked into my arms like that could protect her from the world. “But you don’t know him. Jess uses people, and when he’s done with them, he leaves them.”

“But he can help me,” Syd says, her voice so firm I wonder if she’s fighting back tears. “Working with him will look really good for jobs or college or whatever. He can help—”

He can help me in ways you can’t, she doesn’t say, but I hear those words anyway. Because she’s right. I can work for literal decades and not give her things Jess can give her in a few phone calls.

Money, power, connections. Fame. My chest aches with—with what? Shame? Guilt? Fear?

“I’m bringing you with me to work,” I say. And then, because I know that if I don’t get on the ice, with the crowd roaring around me, I’m going to do something I regret. “Then you’re going to Brenda’s.”

“Sure. Whatever.” Syd snorts. “You clearly need to fight somewhere.”

My teeth grind together hard enough to hurt. More guilt and shame flood that hollow cavity of my chest.

Syd speaks before I can find anything to say. “But if you go to the Ice Out, I expect to see you at the tournament.”

My knuckles go white on the wheel.

I don’t tell her that I’ve already been invited.

Chapter 34

Nat

Onceagain,Ifindmyself across town, mask pulled over my face, stick in hands and skates on the ice. Right where I belong. In the bowels of the city, surrounded by darkness, by depravity. The ice beneath my blades.

I lose myself to this game.

I don’t even wonder if Jesse’s here.

I might not be Olli James, but I know how to initiate a play. Break the puck deep into the offensive zone, almost behind the net—there! My winger zippers in, and I saucer the puck out in front onto his stick.

Shot. Block—rebound!

I break in to scoop up the loose puck, bounce it up the boards towards my other teammate. His slapshot misses the net. Our second scoops it up, flings around the net towards me.

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