Page 9 of Wild Blades

Leon winks at me in anit’s going be okay, kidtype of way. “Wade, it’s good to see you.”

Is it?

Ash, Leon’s best friend, ex-Eagles teammate, and retired Eagles coach, also throws me a wink.

Ash is the only coach I’ve ever trusted. Until he gave up on me too.

Regardless, Ash has always had my back, but why is he here, too? He retired from hockey before the season ended last year to focus on his family and set up his own hockey training facility. I frown when he grins at me like I’m not in a whole heap of trouble.

What does he have to be so cheerful about when impending doom awaits me?

Although the way he’s acting, perhaps I’m not. Hope flares momentarily.

“Please take a seat.”

I snap my head in the direction of Savanna’s voice. The Eagles’ people operations director, who takes no shit from anyone, points to the only available chair.

“What’s going on?” I draw out my words slowly, my heart banging in my chest at least a thousand times.

I am patting myself on the back, pleased that I had the foresight to put on a shirt, dress pants, and shoes I keep in my locker for emergency press conferences because everyone around the table is suited and booted.

“Sit down, Wade,” owner of the Edmonton Eagles, Marcus Edwards, instructs me firmly.

Nervously, I put my hand on the back of the chair, unsure if I should run or face the inevitable.

A red rash flushes up Marcus’ neck. He looks like he’s doing his best to stifle his annoyance. Everyone is pissed at me. I’ve been pushing his buttons, pushing my own boundaries, hammering my own coffin shut nail by painful nail.

I know my team is unhappy with me.

Maybe that’s an understatement. Hate may be a better word. They’ve made no bones about how they feel, forever calling me out about how I make them look bad socially and during games.

The fans are beginning to turn on me too.

Shouting and screaming at me during fights with opponents on the ice, booing and yelling about how much I suck.

I do suck.

But the fans like to poke the bear. Only this bear is out of control.Wild. Feral.

What they don’t know is what changed a year ago.

My breath quickens as my thoughts jump about in my head, apprehension gnawing through my fear.

I can see everyone laughing at the headlines,NHL player, ‘Wild’ Wade Collins, canned for breaking teammate’s nose.

That’s what they call me:WildWade.

How I went from thepolite and niceguy throughout school and when I started on the team towildis beyond me.

Although life changing disasters do strange things to a person’s sanity.

I should know. It’s what I’m going through now.

My past is messing with my head, and my behavior, and I’m screwing up my career in the process.

I need help. Stat.

But I won’t ask for it.

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