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I don’t offer details, not to the level I did with Gigi. I give my teammates only the gist of it. Dad had gun. Gun go bang. Mom dead. They’re all stricken. Even Trager looks upset. “It’s fine,” I tell them, so uncomfortable I want to crawl into a hole. I wish Gigi were here, but she’s not coming until tomorrow.
Trager actually agrees with Rand. “I’m starting to think this dude deserved to have his jaw wired shit.” I shrug. “He did. Said a lot of nastier shit in the locker room after the game.” “What did he say?” Colson glances at me from his perch against the wall next to Garrett. They exchanged a hug when Case came in. I didn’t love seeing that. “Nothing that bears repeating.” A sigh lodges in my throat as I look around the room. “You guys have played with me all year. You know I don’t have a temper. It takes a lot to trigger me.” “So this fucking asshole was running his mouth back then, and now
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Colson lingers, then gestures for me to step into the hall. I flip the lock to keep the door open and follow him out. “You okay?” he says brusquely. I offer a faint smile. “You really care if I am?” “I do. Also…” Case lets out a breath. “I never thought I’d say this in my life, but… I sort of miss you.”
“Christ, Ryder. You married my ex-girlfriend,” he says flatly. “No, I married my wife.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready to, like, hang out with you guys. Just the three of us.” “I wouldn’t put anyone through that uncomfortable torture.” He snickers. “But I’ll get over it,” he says, shrugging. “You’re not a bad guy, Luke. I know you didn’t do this on purpose.”
He sticks out his hand. “We’re good if you want.” “I want.” I shake his hand, but he surprises me by yanking me in for a side hug. I return it, giving him a determined look when we pull apart. “I won’t let this Klein bullshit screw with my head,” I promise. “Never thought you would.”
“Well, I wanted to touch base and let you know you have the full support of myself and the franchise on this matter.” I’m so shocked I almost drop the phone off the ninth-floor balcony. “I do?” “Of course. Not only will you be part of the family soon, but it’s just common decency. You lost a parent at a very young age. That shouldn’t be made into a spectacle or a piece of gossip.” I swallow. “Oh. Well, thank you, sir. I appreciate that.” “I lost my mother at a young age too. Not under such appalling circumstances, but painful nonetheless. If you need anything—you want me to speak to the
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The moment I slide through the door, Coach Jensen pulls me aside and says, “Anything you don’t want to answer, just say, ‘No comment,’ understood?” I nod. “Don’t feel bad about it or explain why you’re not commenting. ‘No comment.’ Period, end of sentence.”
“I have a question,” Colson says. With a raised eyebrow, he looks toward the Arizona table. “For you, Klein.”
“What’d you say to Ryder in the locker room to get your jaw broken? Because I’ve played with this guy all season, and he’s got the patience of a saint and the composure of a brick wall.” There’s a beat of silence. Klein notices the room watching him intently and realizes he needs to provide some sort of answer.
A curious woman in the front row addresses me. “Do you recall what was said, Luke?”
“He said my mom deserved to die and that my father should’ve shot me in the head too.” My response brings a whole lot of silence.
McKay: Understood, but neither me nor my brother owe your audience, or anyone else for that matter, a comment regarding his father. We were both young when he went to prison. We haven’t had contact with him since, and we don’t ever plan to. We also have no interest in rehashing our past with the world. And yes, I feel comfortable speaking for my brother right now.
“How’d you know I was here?” I say in lieu of greeting. “Your husband told me where you were.” I lift a brow. “Wow.” “What?” “You actually said the words your husband without flinching.” “Yeah, well…” Dad slides his hands in his pockets. He’s wearing cargo pants and a white T-shirt, and I don’t miss the way some of the women around us check him out. Dude’s still got it going on in his forties. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Ryder and I are friends now.”
Ever since the men’s Frozen Four win, there’s been something lighter about Ryder too. His teammates backing him up with the media was humbling for him, and he and Case are friendly again. He and my mom are even friendlier, practically best friends now. Even my brother is on board—those two have stupid nicknames for each other. So it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s made genuine headway with my father.
“You were right,” Dad says. “He’s a good guy.”
“Forgive me,” he says simply. I don’t say anything. “I know I screwed up. I reacted poorly.” “Very poorly,” I mutter.
His voice becomes rough. “I was hurt.” “Hurt,” I echo, and experience a flicker of guilt.
