Page 183 of Rebound
Not that it matters either way. Months ago, I made the decision that I was going to retire if I was being traded again. Lavinia is the only thing that’s keeping me in Boston and I’m not going to uproot her life to wherever I’m traded next. I don’t need anyone other than her. She needs her whole community of people. The decision is easy.
“I’ve never cared what you think and I’m not going to start now,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice even. “In case it isn’t perfectly clear, my avoiding your phone calls means I don’t want to talk to you. Stay the fuck out of my life.”
I step around him to walk away, and he grabs my arm to pull me back. His face is clouded with anger. “It took a lot of goodwillto get you here and I’m going to make sure you don’t give it up for your pussy of the month. She’s ruining whatever is left of your career and you’re too pussy drunk to see it.”
It’s really an indication of where this night is going because the first person I punch tonight is my father. Anger surges through me like fire, burning through my veins. It's the second time in my life I've been this angry. The first was two days ago when I saw the news about Josh's podcast interview.
The punch is quick, it's efficient, and my father doesn't see it coming. Bones crunch under my fist as my father falls back against the wall. His eyes are wide with horror and disbelief as he raises a hand up to his nose. Blood trickles down his face and I get a sick sense of satisfaction from seeing it.
“I told you before to keep my wife's name out of your mouth,” I say, my voice deceptively calm. “My relationship has nothing to do with you. And this punch is a warning. If you ever speak of her again?—”
“What, you're going to kill me?” He cuts me off, laughing.
“Kill you? No, that will be too easy.” I lean in close so he can see the hatred and anger in my eyes. “I'm going to destroy that precious reputation. I'm going to show everyone who Asher Maddox really is.”
The horror finally sinks in that he can't control me anymore. He was never able to control me and that's his biggest regret.
“Everything okay out here?” Ford steps out of the dressing room. He looks at me and my father, not even blinking at the sight of the blood.
“We're just catching up,” I say.
Instead of leaving, he leans against the door frame. “I love messy family drama. Makes me feel at home.”
From the look in his eyes, it's like he's daring my father to react. Maybe Ford has a father like mine because he seems tounderstand that Asher Maddox isn’t going to react in front of an audience.
My father straightens, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe away the blood. Leaning towards me he hisses. “You wear my name on your back. You represent me when you skate out onto that ice. You do what I say.”
See, that's the thing about people like him and Josh. Even when you knock them down, they come right back up. They're a little like cockroaches. You get rid of one and another one pops up and somehow, it’s even harder to kill.
“I have a meeting with Coach. Keep in mind what I said.”
Ford claps me on the back as I walk to Coach’s office. He's behind the desk, reviewing old game footage. Every hockey player has a ritual they do before the game. For Silas Cross it's always been reviewing old footage. And it's not footage from last week's game or last month’s game.
He's reviewing footage from games that happened ten or twenty years ago. It's like Lavinia with her supernatural conspiracy theories that she watches on social media. It calms her down. Just like watching years old footage calms Coach down.
“Maddox, sit down,” he says, when I enter his office
I cut straight to the point. “Did you only trade me here because my father asked for it? Is that why you've been constantly hounding me from day one to straighten my act and meet my potential?
“I figured there was something wrong with that when after ten years of this career a coach decided to take so much interest in what I do off the ice. The only thing they've ever cared about is my ability to score a goal.”
With a sigh, he picks up a crumbled piece of paper on his desk and rolls it into a ball in his fist. “Don’t make me throw this at your face. You’re more dramatic than my daughters andthey’re nine and four. I don't give a fuck what conversation your father had with the GM. You're here because I wanted you here for this team. And the only reason I've been hounding you to make friends with the guys is for your own benefit.”
I don't want to believe him, but what choice do I have. From all accounts, Silas Cross is a good man. He's the kind of man people look up to because he always does the right thing.
“If you're about to trade me, I quit,” I say. “I'm not about to leave Lavinia, and I'm not about to ask her to move.”
“Who said anything about trading you?” He raises his eyebrows. “I'm trying to figure out why we can't get in touch with your agent to extend your contract.”
That is exactly what I wanted all those months ago when I asked Lavinia to stay married. Now that it's actually happening, I'm not sure if I should believe it. It almost feels a little too easy, a little too right.
The woman I’ve been obsessed with my whole life is in love with me and she's married to me,andI get to stay here,andI have friends on the team? I feel like I'm about to wake up from a dream any second now.
Then again, I did see my father outside and there's no way he’d be in my dream.
“I fired my agent,” I say. “He was cheating on me with my father.”
“Well, get yourself a new agent. The GM wants your contract reviewed.”
