Page 111 of The Trade Deadline
He looked up from his phone to Anders, who was frowning down at his own. They made eye contact, Ryan shrugging when Anders arched an eyebrow in question. Maybe heshouldwatch it now.
Anders had been in front of him as they filed through the airport to the team bus, but he hung back to wait for Ryan. They shared a concerned look before they each clicked on the link.
It was footage of someone’s TV broadcast of the Crabs game, somewhere in the lower bowl. Ryan immediately recognized the blue and maroon jerseys and almost as quickly saw it was today’s matinee versus the Prowlers. Lars was against the boards, one of the Prowlers coming in hard and—oh, God—was he about to watch Lars get injured?
He heard something like a growl from Anders, no doubt thinking the same thing. The idea of Lars being hurt made him want to throw up. He couldn’t look away, though.
Lars nimbly dodged the check, and the player flew straight into the boards. The crowd cheered, then again when Lars blatantly cross checked the guy. Ryan gulped as they both dropped the gloves. Wasthiswhat Amanda wanted to show them?
The player from the Prowlers was shouting as he threw some punches, and Ryan held his breath for each. But then Lars grabbed the other guy and got a couple very good hits in. Ryan’s relief at the guy falling to the ice was short lived, because Lars then stood over him and screamed. Most of it wasn’t clear, but enough was.
“…because they found out I’m gay…asshole!”
The crowd screamed again and the video ended, looping into another video that Ryan couldn’t care less about.
Ryan and Anders sucked in a breath.
“Shit,” Ryan said at the same time Anders said, “Jäklar.”
They shared another wide-eyed look.
“You don’t think…?” Ryan started, but was unsure what else to say.
For the first time since Ryan had met him, Anders looked concerned. “Even if the audio wasn’t clear, there’s probably an angle where you can read his lips.” He frowned. “I wondered why he left Portland. Did you know?”
“I…well, I didn’tknow, but he’dimplied.”
Anders’s scowl deepened. “Will this hurt him on the Crabs? It’s too late to change teams this season?—”
“He’ll be fine,” Ryan assured him. “The Crabs are cool. They don’t care, I promise. They’ll support him.”
“Good.” He looked relieved. “I don’t know that that means he’ll be fine, though.”
“Yeah, good point.” Ryan clutched his phone to his chest. He hadn’t seen or heard Lars outside of TV clips since he’d left Baltimore. Would Lars even want to hear from him now?
Fuck it, he decided. Maybe Lars did and maybe he didn’t, but it was important that Ryan give him the choice, so he at least knew Ryan was thinking about him and he wasn’t alone in this if he didn’t want to be.
“Could you…buy me some time?” he asked, already backing away to find a quiet space. “Five minutes?”
Anders stared at him and nodded. “Five minutes. Good luck.”
Chapter33
Lars
As soon ashe stepped out of the box, Lars knew more than Zigmund had heard everything he’d said.
Screamed, he reminded himself.While mic’d.
The Prowlers laid off of him, like they were scared or ashamed or something. If he were in a better mental state, he’d capitalize on it. He could’ve had a hat trick, but his only goal was to get through the game and hide. Hide from the looks people were giving him, the questions the media would ask, the comments on social media, the calls, the concern/support in equal measures. There would beso muchonce the game ended and he could no longer hide on the bench.
It did finally end and Lars was the first one down the tunnel. How quickly could he get changed and out of here? He dreaded a postgame interview, but Coach Thompkins took one look at him and declined to let the media into the locker room.
“This changes nothing on our end,” Thompkins said with a gruff, non-nonsense manner that was probably more for the reporters he’d have to face alone than for Lars. “Zilch. You decide how to handle it and we follow suit.” He clapped a hand on Lars’s shoulder and headed for the door. “Let us know.”
While they changed, everyone else walked on eggshells. Lars knew he had their support—he’d known since his talk with Monroe months ago—but this was their first time realizing it. They didn’t know what to say, and Lars would rather not say anything.
“You’re better off with us than those dickheads, anyway.” It was Jordy who broke the silence, and there were nods and faint agreement, and that was that. The tension drained out of Lars a little, and he thanked them and carried on. One down, only a million other aspects of his life to go.
