Page 68 of Puck Lust

Jeremy’s eyes shine and he stares at Carter like he’s a god.

I lace up my skates and head to the center of the ice. The three of us have a lot of laughs doing round robin drills, and when I glance up at the clock, I can’t believe an hour has passed.

I slap Jeremy on the top of his helmet. “Great job today, bud.”

“Thanks, Coach…es,” he says shyly. “It was a lot of fun working with you guys.”

He heads to the edge of the ice and sits on a bench to unlace his skates.

“You’re really good with kids,” I say to Carter. “Jer takes a while to warm up, but he seemed really open to you after only a little while. Thanks for that. He needs to build hisconfidence, so you spending that time with him will go a long way.”

Carter smiles. “My pleasure. I love kids, and he’s got a lot of grit. I can see it. He’ll be really successful if he keeps up with his training.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the problem. Making sure he can do that. These kids don’t have a lot of money, so we do the best we can, but beyond that?—”

The words die on my lips.

Jeremy is outside the rink, cowering against the glass when he sees a man stomping toward him.

I skate to the edge of the ice and fumble with my laces. I pull the skates off, drop them on the floor, and dart out of the rink in only my socks.

Jeremy follows the man toward the exit.

Dammit.

“Jack,” Sam calls out to me as I run past, a warning in his voice.

But I ignore him. I’m not gonna start shit.

I just wanna see him up close.

“Hey, Jeremy,” I say, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He looks up at me, a startled expression on his face.

The man turns around and a familiar tightening of my chest follows when he narrows his beady eyes at me. “Who are you?”

The stench of beer hits my nostrils and my gut clenches.

“Jack Larson, Oakland Raptors,” I say with the fakest fucking smile I can manage. “Just wanted to let you know what a stellar player you’ve got here.”

The dad glares at Jeremy and then at me. “I hope you’re not gonna try to get him into some program. I don’t have money for his little hobby. He needs to get a real skill instead of dancing around on skates for hours every day.”

“Nobody is looking for money,” I say, my fists itching to take a punch at the guy. “This is all free. But he’s got a lot of talent. You should be proud of him.”

You should at least fucking look at him, my brain screams.

The guy lets out a grunt. Doesn’t bother with a thank you.

Just fucking grunts.

Then he turns around and continues to walk toward the door.

Jeremy gives me a wave, then his shoulders hunch and he follows his father.

I stand there for a few minutes, watching them leave the building, stewing, visualizing myself pounding the shit out of the guy who I’m convinced is beating his kid.

A hand clasps my wrist and I turn to see Carter’s pinched expression.

“I know you want to help him, Jack. But you can’t save everyone.”

---