Page 1 of Unbreakable
PROLOGUE
DYLAN
“Cap, my office, please.”
It was media day, when we cleaned out all our personal stuff from our lockers after losing in the playoffs. It’s a bittersweet day: another year with a playoff run, another year we didn’t make it to the end. There were whispers on the internet about me being on the chopping block for a trade, but my contract had a no-move clause. I often joked that they’d have to haul me out of the locker room in a body bag.
A cold sweat broke out over my body when I rounded the corner to Coach’s office and saw our general manager seated inside.
“Hey, Lou,” I said, forcing a smile. He nodded and gestured to the chair next to him.
Sitting across from Coach, a red light glowed from his desk phone, indicating a caller on the other end. “Dev, he’s in here now.”
“Hey, Dylan,” my agent chirped through a muffled speakerphone.
My mouth hung open. This didn’t bode well. “Hey, Dev. What’s the occasion?”
Coach looked like he was about to tell me my dog died. “Dylan, what do you have in mind for your future?”
He called me Dylan. My government name. Not Dyl Pickles or Dylly or Pickles or Picksy or Sorrento or any hockey permutation he typically employed.
I found my breath, blasting it out in a little puff. “I’m only sort of kidding when I say you’ll have to get me out in a body bag.”
“This is our fourth playoff run where you’ve been captain and we haven’t made it past round two.”
“I mean, the coaching staff turned over twice too,” I said. Why the hell was I starting to fight for my life?
“We’re afraid you’ve run your course with our organization, and someone else wants you,” Coach said, looking miserable himself.
“What? Who? I can’t leave L.A. My whole life is here. It’s been here since I was twenty-two!”
“Dyl, you might like it,” Dev tried on the other end of the phone. “It’s Ohio.”
My eyes grew wide and my stomach churned. “No. No way. I have a no-move clause!”
“Sorrento, you’re getting up there in age—” Coach started.
“I’m thirty-three!” I croaked.
Coach cocked his head to silence me. He and I both knew I was past the average retirement age by five years. “Leroy was way older before you let him go!” I added.
“Leroy’s not the captain,” Coach said, licking his lips. “I don’t like this either. You’re the heart of this place and a forty-goal scorer. But Ohio needs some of that too.”
“They’re the worst in the league!” I hissed. “It’s an embarrassment!”
“They need your kick in the ass,” Dev chimed in, doing his best to put lipstick on this pig. “You could be the reason theyturn around! You have until June 30 to think about it. Talk it over with Jeanine.”
“She’s going to hate this! Did everyone just forget? I have a no-move clause!”
“Which we could waive,” Dev reminded me. “Aren’t you from around there anyway?”
“Pennsylvania,” I grumbled, shaking my head. “What happens if I don’t accept?”
Coach gave me a sympathetic look that told me what I already knew: I’d be on the open market, begging for a contract that wouldn’t likely last for more than a year. I’d have to start the negotiation cycle over again the following summer. “Cap, why don’t you go home and think it through?”
“It’s better traffic,” Dev enticed me. “Cheaper. More private.”
“We’re in L.A. We’re the very least important people here!” I nearly shouted. “No one gives a fuck about hockey players here!”
