Page 107 of Offside Devil

After Daniel lost his leg, he got weirdly inspirational. Half the shit out of his mouth could have been printed under a picture of a turtle climbing a rock and hung in conference rooms the world over.

You can’t have a rainbow without the rain.

Keep looking at the sun and the shadows will fall behind you.

At the time, it drove me crazy. Our situation wasn’t inspiring—it was a fucking tragedy.

Now, though, things have changed. Walking into the arena with a picture Aiden drew of the two of us in my pocket and the mental image of Mira naked in my bed, I’m seeing rainbows and there isn’t a shadow in sight.

I’m too busy thinking about how right everything in my life is going to care that I’m the only one walking the halls. Until I push open the locker room door and find every single member of the team lining the benches, staring up at…

Carson fucking Deluth.

“Whitaker,” Deluth grits out. “Take a seat.”

I drop my duffel next to the wall in case I need both hands free to strangle Carson. “Since when do you give orders?” I growl. “What the fuck is this about?”

Davis slides over to make space for me, his eyelids drooping sleepily. “He won’t tell us. I set my alarm for seven this morning to be here on time. That hour shouldn’t even be legal.”

Nathan snorts. “No wonder you’re always fucking late. Practice starts at seven-thirty.”

Davis waves him off lazily. “Beauty sleep. Ever heard of it? It’s why I’m the pretty one on the team.”

Everyone starts talking at once, arguing over who is actually the prettiest. I ignore them; it’s taking all of my focus not to haul Carson’s ass into the hallway and figure out what he’s playing at.

Carson claps his hands a few times to try to focus everyone, but no one gives a shit until Jace whistles. “Focus up,” he barks. “I’d like to get to the hockey portion of today, so let’s get Carson’s little Show & Tell presentation over with.”

Carson’s nose wrinkles, but he ignores that jab. “Thanks.” Carson faces everyone. “Teams are built on loyalty and trust. This locker room is our home. When we’re here, we’re family.”

“Isn’t that the Olive Garden slogan?” Nathan whispers to Davis, who cackles.

“Families can’t lie to each other,” Carson continues, ignoring them. “I don’t want to do this, but when something in someone’s personal life affects the team, we all deserve to know.”

My stomach drops. He isn’t even looking my way, which is how I know this has to be about me.

“Come out with it already,” Davis groans. “This was not worth waking up early for.”

There’s a mumble of agreement across the locker room when Carson blurts, “It’s Zane.”

Everyone turns to look at me.

I stare unflinchingly at Carson. “What about me, Deluth?”

“You’re lying to them,” he grits out. “Tell them the truth. Tell them why you’ve been distracted and missing workouts.”

He has no idea what he’s talking about, but I don’t care. Just the fact that he thinks I’m back in active addiction and his response is to use it as leverage to become captain is enough reason to kill him.

The room is fading out of focus—everything except for Carson’s face, which is looking more and more like a bullseye every passing second.

But Jace stands up and starts waving people towards the doors, catching my eye as he does. “This isn’t the forum for this, Carson. Clear out, everyone. This isn’t?—”

“You’re our captain,” Carson spits. “The only reason I’m the one standing here making this speech is because you aren’t doing your job.”

Jace rises to his full height and everyone collectively remembers that he was the tallest player in the NHL for years until the Brooklyn Knights drafted a behemoth Czech center last year. He looms over Carson like a giant. “As captain of this team, I hauled Zane’s ass out of that bar that night and made sure his head was on straight. He isn’t going to fuck up again, so we don’t need to do this.”

Carson frowns. “What bar?”

He doesn’t know about me getting drunk. So what the fuck is he talking about?

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