Page 8 of My Brother's Enemy
How did this happen?
Tyler Griffin was one of the top five players in the entire league, possibly top three. He’d been picked up by New York in the draft a few years back, and he’d never left. They’d built an entire team around him, and they’d won the Stanley Cup for thelast five years. People had begun to hate them, because that’s what happens when a team is on top for too long. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t good.
Dazed, I stood in stunned disbelief, alongside thousands who were flabbergasted right along with me. Looking up at the Jumbotron, I watched as the camera followed him around.Tyler Griffin.
A totally different anxiety slammed into my chest. I needed to sit down. Stat. Because if I took this job, I’d have to work with him.
I’d have to talk to Tyler.
The other shoe had officially dropped.
6
TYLER
The Grays weren’t bad, though we’d lost tonight, and Ihatedlosing.
I wanted playoffs. We wouldn’t get there with this team.
It’d been hard to interpret the crowd’s reaction when I was announced. There was a mix of boos and cheers. I also heard a lot of fucking confusion. I understood that. The sudden trade would be discussed incessantly on the hockey media and blogs for the foreseeable future, because this had been such an unprecedented move. I wasn’t looking forward to the fallout. They’d question my team, whether there was a rift between me and the coaching staff, or the administration, or another teammate. All of which was false, but they had to talk about something. I didn’t want them to find the real reason, though eventually someone would likely put it together. I’d grown up in the Twin Cities. My family, though small, was here. Someone might look hard enough to find that.
“Nice playing with you tonight, Griff.” Jesse Ray held up a fist as he skated by. He was the Grays’ current captain and also first-line left winger. I’d be first-line center soon, though there’d already been some crossover tonight since I’d chosen to stay onthe ice during the penalty kills, which, shit, we’d gotten a lot of. My old team had spent a lot of time in the sin bin. That was just part of hockey, but we hadn’t done it as much as this team seemed to. Giving the other team all those power plays was stupid. Sometimes shit happened, but as many as tonight? Fucking Christ. Keep your head.
But, different day, different problem.
I tapped Ray’s fist and gave him a nod. “You too. I’m excited to play with you and Sunny.”
Joel Sun—or Sunny, as he was called on the ice—was the Grays’ first-line right winger. He heard my comment and gave me a quick grin. He seemed tired. We were all tired, because damn, this team was inefficient. There were better ways to play. Smarter moves.
But I was the new guy. Sure, my career pedigree gave me some power here—I wasn’t going to get hazed—but I was still just coming in. I needed to shut my trap on all my thoughts about this team. I’d only played one game with them. I’d loved their inefficiency when I’d been playing against them. They were usually an easy win, especially once playoffs came around, because by then this team had worn themselves out.
I wasn’t sure why. They had good bones—a good mix of veteran players with new talent coming up, and I’d help. I knew I would be an asset for them. Plus, their goalie was one of the best—his nickname was Brick for a reason. He was a goddamn wall in front of the goal. Nothing against Zoomie, my last team’s goalie, but he was just normal for the NHL. Brick wasn’t. He was a superstar.
I glanced over at Nick Bruge, a Grays enforcer. He got some heat around the league because he liked to skate with his helmet off as much as possible, letting those long locks of his fly. It was a running joke. Girls got off on putting videos of him up on social media. Some called him a show pony, saying he liked to be theenforcer because it got him attention. I didn’t know him, and I’d never gotten that read on the ice, but I’d been on the other end of his fists a couple times. He could hit when he wanted to. Once the fight was called, though, he was cool. He didn’t do a lot of extra chirping.
Right now he was sitting by Sun’s locker, elbows on his knees, going through his phone.
I grimaced. That made me think about my own phone. I’d silenced it, but it kept lighting up with notification after notification. I hated social media. A girl I’d banged a couple times was good at it, though, and it turned out we were better as friends, so she handled most of my social media now. She was back in New York, so that meant I’d either need to do my social media myself or find someone new.
“Griffin.” One of the coaches stepped into our locker area. He motioned behind him. “You’re on press. Bruge. Ray. You too, after Griff.”
As he left, Brick came in. “Who’s the chick Coach is talking to?”
More than a few heads lifted.
“What do you mean?” Sunny asked.
Brick pointed out the door. “Benoit’s introducing her to the whole coaching staff. Looks like she’s someone, you know? Joining the team or something.” He turned to me. “Unless she’s with you? Your agent or manager?”
I shook my head. “Nope. My agent’s a dude.”
“Is she hot?” one of the younger guys asked.
A few others laughed.
Brick went to his station and began stripping down. “I am a happily married man, but if I weren’t…” He paused for effect.
Some of the guys leaned forward.
