That One Night (Jacksonville Rays, #0.5)

by Emily Rath

“You mean aside from the big ‘FUCK YOU’ you’ve got tattooed on your forehead?” He gestures at my face with his hand.

“Oh, so you can see it. Good. For a minute there, I thought it must have washed off in the shower.”

“Yeah, I do. And right now, all signs point to me taking you down to my room and fucking your brains out.” Dead. RIP Jake Compton, the best grinder the NHL ever had. He died doing what he loved most.

Are we sharing names and tragic backstories now?”