Page 27 of Powerless
My entire body goes rigid. “Come again?”
“A two-week suspension for not disclosing this to management. We’ll call it a leave of absence in the press release.”
“You have to be fucking kidding me. The team needs me! The press is going to have a fucking heyday with this!”
The older man just pulls me into a rough hug, ignoring my arguments. “Your family needs you more,” is what he grumbles while giving me a tight squeeze. And then he’s pulling away, giving me another of those tragic looks. “The press is already having a heyday with you. Hockey will still be here in two weeks. Your head isn’t on the ice, and it shouldn’t be. Stay in touch.”
And then he walks away, dress shoes clacking against the concrete floors like it’s just another normal day. Like the world isn’t total, utter shit.
Like one of the best people I’ve ever known hasn’t vanished in some secret corner of the world, on some classified mission, where god-knows-what has happened to him.
The reality of the entire situation hits me like a wrecking ball to the chest.
What if he’s dead?
What if he needs help?
And the worst possibility of all, what if we just never find him?
Ready to get the fuck away from everything, I march out the doors into the lobby. It’s where fans wait for autographs and puck bunnies wait for a shot at a player.
But there’s only one person waiting who I want to see.
The beautiful girl wearing my jersey who feels like home. The one who has barely left my side for over a week. We both know she’s hiding from the realities of her life, but so am I. We’re kindred that way, and we don’t pick at each other about it.
Everyone gets ignored as I make my way to her. I don’t know who’s there or what people are saying. I have tunnel vision and all I see is Sloane.
I’m grumpy and miserable. The world is dark, but she’s like the moon when we sat on the roof. Bright and pure, shedding a silvery light over everything so that I can still see where I’m going.
Her arms clamp around my waist, the look she gives me is pure love and support, and then her head drops to my chest. Comforting me without saying a word. I take a deep pull of her scent and close my eyes to push away the intrusive thoughts threatening to tug me under.
Everything in the world feels wrong.
But standing here with Sloane in my arms feels right.
8
Sloane
Sloane:Just dropping you a line to say hi. Hope you got home safe. And to remind you that I love you dearly.
Violet:I love you too.
Sloane:I’m sending you the biggest hugs, Vi.
Violet:He’ll be okay. He has to be, right?
Sloane:Definitely.
Violet:That game was . . . oof. Is Jasper okay?
Sloane:No.
Violet:He needs you more than he realizes. Don’t leave him. You’re his person.
Sloane:I won’t.
The way Jasper clutches my hand as we walk out of the arena feels different.
