Page 67 of Hooking the Captain
Tim stood less than ten feet away with a carefree smile on his face, as if he hadn’t caused me immense pain several years ago in high school.
It felt as though my heart stopped as vivid memories of that horrible night came flooding back, threatening to suffocate me with pain I thought I had finally buried.
“Hey, man,” Tim exclaimed, stepping closer as if we were old friends. “Long time no see!”
Fear clawed at my chest, urging me to run away, but I couldn’t move. I was trapped in a nightmare that had resurfaced without warning.
Tim extended his arms like he was preparing for an embrace. “Come on, bring it in!” he said, oblivious to the horror I was feeling.
“Tim,” I managed to say through clenched teeth. “What do you want?”
He shrugged. “Aw, don’t be like that.”
“Who’s this guy?” Jacob eyed Tim warily, and I wondered if he could sense the tension radiating from me.
“No one,” I muttered, my eyes bouncing between my date and the monster from the past.
“No one?” Tim huffed. “We were best friends in high school.”
Tim’s words hung in the air, threatening to unravel the fragile composure I was barely clinging to.Best friend.The term felt like a cruel joke after the hurt he’d caused me. I could feel the panic rising, and it was getting harder to breathe. I had to get out of there.
“Ford,” Jacob’s voice cut through the chaos in my head. “Are you all right?”
“I ... I need to go home,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Okay, let me order us a ride.”
I shook my head. “No. I need to go now.”
I ran off and didn’t look back. I didn’t know how long it took me to get home because my mind was unable to think of anything other than the night Tim had raped me.
When I finally walked into my apartment, I went straight to the freezer and grabbed the vodka. Twisting off the cap, I took a huge swig directly from the bottle. I felt no need to pour it into a glass since I intended to finish it all because drinking was the only way I knew how to silence the demons that Tim’s unexpected appearance had awakened.
20
COOP
The weightof the loss against the Flyers hung heavy in the air, and the game replayed in my mind on a relentless loop. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something essential was missing, and it wasn’t just the points on the scoreboard.
Even though Baylor had been new last season, he had been a pivotal part of the team and why we had made it to the Finals. Then he was traded and his absence sucked. I missed him. We’d tried to make it work, but it had been impossible with our schedules and we’d decided it was best to focus on hockey.
Coach entered the room. “Tough game out there, boys. We’ll work on a few things and get back on track.”
I nodded. As team captain, it was my job to try to pump up everyone, but I was unable to find the right words. The ache in my chest wasn’t just from the physical exertion; it was due to the emotional toll of the game, and the realization that Baylor’s absence had left a noticeable mark. Petrov wasn’t a bad goalie, and he wasn’t the only reason we lost, but he wasn’t Baylor.
Still wrapped in a towel after I showered, I grabbed my phone out of my locker to check if the Rangers had won their game. However, I had a missed text from Ford.
Hey! Hope you’re doing good. Just wanted to tell you I’m at the game tonight. Should be fun finally getting to see you play in person. Good luck tonight!
I was surprised to see he’d texted and I wasn’t sure how to feel knowing Ford was at the game. I hadn’t played my best, and we had lost. A part of me wanted to respond since he was clearly back in the States, and I could see if time had healed old wounds. Another part hesitated, wary of the potential complications reconnecting could bring.
Taking a deep breath, I replied:
Hey! Glad you caught a game in person. Sucks we didn’t win for you though. Are you back visiting?
While I waited for a text back, I put on my suit. The locker room was still gloomy and each one of my teammates slipped out with just a simple goodbye. We had another game at home in two nights and I hoped practice in the morning would fix things and we could find that team chemistry we needed to win. Or maybe the Flyers were just the better team this year.
My phone dinged with a text.
