Page 69 of Game Misconduct

Today, he wore dark jeans, a ribbed charcoal gray shirt, and a black overshirt with the sleeves rolled up. A silver Rolex gleamed on his wrist. He looked every inch the successful captain of a pro hockey team.

Nicholas Calhoun had been racking up scoring points and dazzling the league with his play when Leif joined the New York Rockets.

Leif had gotten a call from Nicky on draft day, met him at rookie training camp in the summer, and hoped to impress him—along with the rest of the big-name players and staff—at training camp that fall. He’d hoped to impress them enough to stay up at the NHL level for at least a handful of games—hopefully more.

But a flukey hit on the second day of camp and Leif had been out of commission with an upper body injury before the season even started. Frustrated, he’d worked his ass off to rehab his shoulder and was finally back by late November.

After that, he’d played most of the season in Syracuse and been one of their top scorers in their Calder Cup run. The team hadn’twon the Calder—they’d been knocked out in the second round—but it had made Leif desperate to contribute more.

His sophomore season he’d been determined to have a good camp, and he’d finally managed to get a crack at the NHL roster. He hadn’t stayed up—there had just been too many players who had years more experience and skill than him, but he’d been flattered to be asked to be a Black Ace during their Stanley Cup run.

He’d only played a couple of games, but he’d done well enough that even though the Rockets had been knocked out by the Harriers, Leif had desperately hoped he’d done enough to become a permanent fixture in the lineup.

Following a stellar camp the following season, he’d finally done it. He’d secured himself a spot on the big-boy roster. By that time, Nicky had been out with his concussion thanks to Luke Crawford and his fucking elbows to the head.

So by the time Leif was up and playing regularly, their captain was out with post-concussion syndrome. Nicky had tried to come back several times in the past few years, but it never lasted more than a few weeks. The best he’d ever managed was two months before the headaches returned and his doctors told him he couldn’t play.

Nicky had good locker room presence. You could see it in the way guys looked up to him, hanging on his every word. But he’d been gone so much.

With a knee or a shoulder injury, it wasn’t so bad. A guy could still come to the locker room and be around the team on a regular basis. But Nicky … well, his situation had been different.

Leif could only imagine what kind of torture it had been for him, lying in a dark room and desperately trying not to puke. Most of the guys on the roster had dealt with a concussion or two in their careers. A few days was bad enough, a few weeks grim, butyears?

Leif couldn’t imagine it.

It was no wonder he couldn’t be a physical presence for the team as often as he’d probably like.

The team had been floundering lately, stuck in the mushy middle of the league. Good enough to win some games, but never enough to secure a top spot in the division. Recently, there had been a lot of whispering around the league that Nicky should retire. That he should step down as captain and let someone else lead. The noise about it from a prominent New York hockey podcaster had been especially loud.

Nicky didn’t seem inclined to do either and his guys were loyal to him, so nothing ever came of that talk. Leif wasn’t sure what the right call was.

Alternate captains Ian Salter and Mirsad Renner had been doing a good job leading the team while Nicky was out, and Leif had been offered the A while Renner was out with an injury.

But Ian was a fairly quiet guy and Mirsad was …

“Great job at the North Atlantic Tournament,” Nicky said when he finally reached Leif, holding out a hand to him.

Leif straightened and shook. “Thanks. That means a lot, especially coming from you.”

“Hey, it’s no shock that you’re killing it,” Nicky said with a warm smile. “You’ve been doing a great job holding down the first line here.”

“Thanks.” Leif had always wondered if it bothered Nicky that he was in his spot as first line center. Then again, he was captain for a reason. Surely, he wanted what was best for the team.

But whatwasbest? Was it Leif or Nicky anchoring the top line? Would it change when Nicky eventually came back? And when would that be?

They spoke for a few more moments before Nicky moved on to the next guy and Leif continued to strip down.

“Okay, so I have some good news, guys!” Nicky called out over the noise of the room, his teeth gleaming white as he grinned. “I’m coming back! Docs have cleared me to start skating with the team again.”

The cheer that went up made Leif’s ears ring.

Leif felt the oddest wave of dizziness go over him at the news. Relief for his captain. Worry over his own role on the team. Guilt that he felt anything but good things about Nicky coming back.

Did this make him a horrible person?

Why had his first thought been abouthimself? Well, second, maybe. But still. Shouldn’t he be able to set his own ego aside to be happy for someone else?

What waswrongwith him?