Page 16 of Dangle

A sob pinched my chin, but I swallowed until it lodged in my chest, along with the rage and fear and fucking agony. I hated feeling like this. I fucking loathed it. I wanted out. I loved hockey, but I hated playing with the black cloud of Malachek expectation following me through life.

As scared as I was of not getting signed, I knew, fucking knew in my guts and deep in my bone marrow, that if I signed with the Wardens, I would never, ever be free. Not that signing with another team would cut the stays that imprisoned me, but it would be better.

Right?

“You okay, Cap?” Ethan asked from my right.

I dropped my chin, opening my mouth and letting it fill with water from the shower head. My head dipped a few times inresponse as I swished and spat to rid myself of the mucus; the emotions I held onto by the barest grip of my fingertips caused.

“You sure?” Zane pressed from the left.

I loved these guys. I loved all the guys on the team, but these guys were my boys. We’d probably lose Zane over the summer. Anaheim drafted him last year, and they clearly needed him. We all knew it.

Looking at Zane, I sighed. “I’m sorry it ended the way it did.”

“Me too. You’ve had a rough year. I don’t know what triggered it. You were a menace last year. I thought?—”

Cutting him off, I said, “Yeah, me too. I don’t know what the fuck happened. I really can’t explain it.”

I could. But I wouldn’t.

No one needed to know what the fuck happened behind the gates of the Malachek compound.

Without looking to confirm, I knew they were looking at each other, trying to figure out what to say or do. Shampoo dumped into my hand as I avoided their gazes and focused on getting clean and getting the fuck out of here. I hoped that if I took enough time, my old man would disappear.

Hopefully, from the planet.

But I’d settle for the locker room.

I tilted my head back once I had rinsed the suds away. I chanced a glance at the guys. Ethan’s eyes met mine.

“Aiden texted.”

“Yeah. How’s Mercy doing?”

“Great. They have a game in two days. He offered us tickets if we wanted to make the trip.”

A grin spread across my face—a matching one spread across Zane’s. Then Ethan’s.

“Road trip!” we cried, high-fiving.

“Did someone say road trip?” Riordy, aka Ryan Riordan, asked.

“What better way to drown our sorrows, boys?”

“Fuck yeah,” Isaiah said.

“Nash Vegas, look out! The boys are back!”

FIVE

SLONE

Pushing through the last few minutes of the prerecorded workout on the rower, I luxuriated in that gorgeous feeling before tapping the screen to activate the cool-down session.

My phone screen lit up with the Manchester Mauler’s telltale icon. I dropped the rower handle, punched the screen to end the workout, and grabbed my phone.

I didn’t know what had gotten into me, but I couldn’t get Trey Malachek out of my fucking head. I’d become obsessed. There was no reason for it. I didn’t know the kid. We’d never met, but after the game Ewen and I went to several weeks before, Trey Malachek lived rent-free in my psyche. I was nearing fucking stalker mode. I’d attended every home game since, nearly a dozen of them, sometimes with Ollie, sometimes with Ewen, but most often alone so I could focus all my attention on the object of my current hyper focus. Especially the few close away games I stole off to.