Page 88 of Penalty to the Heart

They should have known better that I wasn’t going to take that shit lying down.

I grab my coat and walk out of the locker room, only to be met with a swarm of reporters waiting outside, each one bombarding me with their incessant questions.

“What do you have to say for your actions today?”

“What’s your beef with Bellamy?”

“How would your brother react to you fighting with another player?”

“No fucking comment,” I snarl at them and push my way out of there.

Of course, instead of going home like I wanted to, I still have one more stop—kissing Trent’s ass, who is sure to be on the rampage for punching his new favorite player.

However, when I get there, my hackles rise when I see Nichols sitting on the couch while Preston leans against his desk, staring at me head-on.

“You wanted to see me, boss?” I ask, pretending to be unaffected by their hard stares.

“I did,” Preston replies instead of Trent. “Sit down.”

I throw a glance over at Trent, but his blank expression gives nothing away.

“I think we’ve been very accommodating and patient with you and your attitude these past two months, something that you have yet to fully appreciate. That ends today.”

“If this is about me punching Bellamy, then there’s no need to get your panties in a twist. It’s officially out of my system,” I lie. “Scout’s honor.”

“I wish I could believe you,” Preston retorts, his expression cold and unfeeling. “But I don’t. You have put this team in a jeopardizing situation. Not once, but twice. I won’t stand by it and wait for a third.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, my gaze bouncing off from Preston to Trent. “What does that mean, Trent?”

Trent pulls his back from the couch, hands clasped together over his knees.

“You know what it means, kid,” he says despondently.

I shake my head, not believing the shit I’m hearing.

“Consider yourself suspended for the rest of the season. After the Stanley Cup playoffs, we’ll revisit if you are still a good fit for the Guardians,” Preston announces while fixing his cufflinks.

“You’re firing me?” My eyes all but shoot out of their sockets.

“Not yet,” Trent says, the word yet hanging in the air like a curse.

“I can’t believe this.” I jump out of my seat. “You’re going to back up some fucker who just got here over me?”

“No. We’re putting the team above you,” Preston retorts.

“The team?” I scoff. “Right.”

“Do you have anything to say in your defense? Because if you do, now is the time. Think wisely, kid, before you open your mouth,” Trent warns, hoping for me to step up and say something to change Preston’s mind. But I’m so fucking pissed that all I want is to bolt and never see any of their faces again.

“We all have to live with the consequences of our actions, right? I’ll just add this one to the long list of fucked-up things that have happened to me lately. Thanks for the support, gentlemen. Trust me… I won’t forget it so soon.”

And with that remark, I turn my back on both of them and get the hell out of there.

Suspended.

First, they brought in Bellamy, now they suspended me?!

Has everyone lost their fucking minds?!

---