Page 14 of Roughing
“This team is struggling.”
I bit back a smart remark and merely nodded.
“We could use your talent and hockey wisdom.”
Well, shit, how did I respond to that? “I play hard.”
“You do, but character matters as much as physical effort.”
“Are you saying I don’t have character?” I snapped, unable to stop myself. I’d been angry for so long it was impossible to flip a switch and suddenly play nice.
“Do you?” Kirby cocked his head and pursed his lips, appraising me as only he could.
“Probably not lately.” I turned my head and met Kirby’s direct gaze. Nothing on his face reflected disapproval or disdain but something more like hope.
“But you did once have character. Guys who’ve played with you in the past speak highly of your leadership and ability.”
“That was the past. I’m not that person anymore.”
“I think you are. You’ve buried him, but you can dig him up and let him see the light again.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.” His presence made me grumpy. I wanted him to go away.
“Briggs, I’m not letting you off that easily. You’re here. That means something. You chose hockey rather than giving up. You must still care.”
“Save the therapy for a dude who appreciates it.”
Kirby snorted good-naturedly. “I’m not done with you yet.” His words weren’t a threat, but more like a promise of help I didn’t need or welcome.
Kirby gave my arm a squeeze and moved to another seat. I stared out the window of the plane, trying to sort out the conflicting emotions ping-ponging around in my head.
“My turn,” said Dash, our captain, as he plopped down in Kirby’s vacated seat.
“Great.” I blew out a frustrated sigh and rolled my eyes.
“That shitty attitude isn’t going to cut it anymore.” Dash prided himself on being an even-keeled guy, rarely prone to fits of temper or drastic changes in mood. His tone reverberated with the unspoken warning that he wasn’t tolerating my cranky ass. “I don’t understand why they gave you a second chance, but Coach still believes he can fix you.”
“And what do you believe?” I shot back.
“Doesn’t matter what I believe. What matters is your willingness to change to stay in this league. You do want to play hockey, or you wouldn’t be here.”
“I do,” I muttered, hating that I had made an admission and revealed my ultimate weakness.
“This team needs you, Briggs.”
“We’re the worst team in the league. We can’t go any lower.”
“That’s why we need you to be a hundred-percent committed to turning this around.”
I wasn’t part of his rah-rah group, which believed this team had potential. I did not. Every guy here was exposed in the draft for a reason. They weren’t valuable enough to be protected.
“We’re a bunch of rejects,” I muttered.
Dash studied me for a very long moment before he responded. “Are we really? Or are we guys who weren’t in good situations on other teams for various reasons? Now we have an opportunity, every one of us, to resurrect our careers and show our old teams what a mistake they’ve made.”
I grunted and shrugged, unable to deny the truth in his statement.
“Wouldn’t you love to show your old team how wrong they were about you?”
