Page 135 of Player Misconduct
The words blur on the screen.
A deal.
She's making a deal. And she didn't tell me.
I lock the phone and press it to my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut.
Don't make this worse,Coach said.
But how could it possibly get worse than this?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Aleksi
The road trip is a blur.
Three cities. Three games. Four sleepless nights in hotel rooms that all smell the same—recycled air, industrial detergent and the faint smell of cigarettes even though you’re not allowed to smoke in these hotels.
I channel everything into the ice.
Every shift, every stride, every shot—I play like I'm trying to outrun something. Like if I skate fast enough, hard enough, the distance between me and Seattle will stop mattering, and maybeKendall will see I’m trying. That I'm strong enough to fight for us. That I’m not the underdog anymore.
Two goals in the first game. One assist in the second. A power-play snipe in the third that sends the crowd into a frenzy and makes the highlight reels.
The guys are buzzing. The coaches are pleased. Penelope texts me after the second win:Whatever you're doing, keep doing it.
But all I can think about is Kendall and Niko and how I plan to come back to Seattle proving to her that I’m playing at my best, for her… for us.
I think of Kendall, sitting somewhere in Seattle, watching me on a screen, trying to convince herself that this distance is what's best for both of us.
I text her after every game.
Me:Two points tonight. Wish you'd been there to see it.
Me:Scored on the power play. Coach says I'm playing the best hockey of my career. I think it's because I miss you.
Me:I’m going to be home soon.
None of them get a reply but all of them are read. I know she’s seeing them, and I know she’s watching because I hear the guys talking to their girlfriends on the phone at night, Kendall’s name coming up in conversation. Every night I do the one thing I can do since she won’t take my calls. After every score or assist, anytime I get a chance, I point to the sky… to our stars, telling her that everything I do is for her, for Niko. At every press table, I make sure my ring finger grips the microphone stand, the ringvisible for her to see. Because I know she’s watching the team interviews… She’s watching me.
By the fourth night, I stop sleeping entirely.
I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the hallway fight over and over in my head.
If I'd just walked away, if I'd called security, let them handle it, done literally anything except swing, maybe none of this would be happening.
Maybe she'd still be working. Still answering my calls. Still letting me in.
But I didn't walk away. Because I couldn't.
Because the thought of him touching her, hurting her, saying those things to her… it made something in me snap.
And now she's paying the price.
The flight home feels longer than the four days we were gone.
I don't sleep. I just sit in the window seat, forehead pressed to the cold glass, it’s dark and late. Kendall’s probably asleep by now. Tucked into her apartment when I wish she was at the house, safe and sound.
