Page 119 of Player Misconduct
I nod because it’s all I can do without making it worse. She turns and heads for her office door, opening it and slides through, leaving it open for me to exit next.
Trey’s eyes are on Kendall’s back as she storms through the locker room, then he sees me coming from the same direction. “You good? Did I miss something?”
“I’m fine.”
“There’s blood on the floor out in the hallway,” he says, not unkindly. “Media’s foaming.”
Okay so he knows enough then.
“I hit her ex-husband. He was drunk and was getting physical.”
“And now he has a broken nose it would seem…”
I look at him. “If it were Vivi?...” I ask.
“If it had been Vivi… he would have left here in a body bag.” He nods, knowingly.
“Exactly.” I say and then head for my stall to undress and jump in the shower before press.
If Kendall wants me to fix this. I’ll do it, but this time, I’m doing it my way.
Vivi:Tell me that isn’t you on local news.
Another ping.
Chelsea PR:No comments until I brief you. Locker room in 5 minutes. Delete anything you feel tempted to post.
Another.
Unknown (screenshot from a reporter):Tunnel Brawl: Hawkeyes Rookie Winger Drops NFL Bad Boy— with a frozen frame of my fist at peak arc, Kendall blurred in the background.
The room tilts a degree. I swallow it down.
The press lights are bright and sharp. I stand where they tell me, say what Chelsea tells me. “Proud of the guys.” “We built on existing systems.” “Fans were great.” A question bounces in: “Aleksi, can you address the incident—” and I say the line: “I’m here to talk about hockey,” like a good boy.
After, the corridor outside the presser is a choke point.
Everyone’s asking if I’m going to head to Oakely’s to celebrate but I tell them I need to go check on Kendall. The rumors have already spread through the locker room so everyone nods knowingly.
I shoot Kendall a text: You okay? Did you make it home?
No dots. No reply.
So I text Penelope: Is Kendall with you?
Penelope:She’s with Isla and Kaenan. Security will ban Tarron from team property. You did what you needed to with the press. Go home, Aleksi. Ice your hand.
She’s home. Thank God.
Me:Is she okay?
A long beat. Then:
Penelope:She’s shaken. Let her breathe.
Breathe. Right. Sure.
The parking lot is a smear of brake lights and exhaust clouds. I sit in my car with the engine off and scroll like an idiot to hurt myself.
