Page 142 of The Blame Game

Now he knew if there was a problem, his boss would have his back.

Of course, if proof ever came out that Shea had done sex work and lied to his boss about it …

With a frown, Shea wondered how Dom was doing this morning.

Hopefully things were going a little more smoothly at the team’s practice facility.

“What did I tell you at the beginning of the season, Olson?” Gilly shouted, the words echoing on the walls of his office. “I said I want personal lives out of the gossip sites. What part of that don’t you understand?”

Dom remained silent because Gilly was on a tirade and there wasn’t anything he could say that was going to help.

So he sat there and took it, let the words wash over him and flow around him without sticking.

When Gilly’s rant finally ended, he glared at Dom. “Are you even listening to me, Olson?”

He was expecting Dom to snap out a, “Yes, Gilly!” like always but Dom didn’t fucking have it in him today.

“Respectfully, sir, but no,” Dom said flatly.

Gilly blinked.

“On-ice, your coaching has been amazing this season. You’ve gotten every guy to buy into your system and we’re all pulling together toward a common cause. We have a serious chance of taking a deep run toward the Cup this year. But you should know that off-ice, you’re not doing yourself any favors.”

Gilly gaped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Dom leaned forward. “Players respect you when they play poorly and you bench them while you give the call-ups an opportunity to get some experience at this level and get a shot at earning a permanent roster position. The established players respect that you push them to continue to work hard and earn their spot back. They like that you don’t let them grow complacent. But this isn’t the NHL you played in. Hell, it isn’t the one I got drafted into. It’s changing and it’s changing fast.”

Gilly remained silent, listening, so Dom continued.

“You can be tough on us from the bench without all of the fucking theatrics in the locker room. No one else is going to say it because they have too much to lose if they piss you off. But I have nothing to lose anymore,” he admitted. “I’m in the final months of my contract and I know damn well no one here is offering me another one. You can threaten to bench me all you want, but I’m already on LTIR and my back’s fucked, so I may not even be able to get on the ice again before my contract ends.”

There was no way he could play through the rest of the regular season and a playoff run like this. If it was a herniated disc, it would be too long of a recovery time to return, even if they made it all the way to the final round.

And Dom loathed the idea of ending his career riding the bench.

This realization was a bitter pill to swallow but he could only ignore it for so long.

“So I’m going to be frank,” Dom said. “You’re losing the room with these off-ice theatrics. I’m not saying you need to be soft on us, but maybe try listening to guys before you scream at them. Maybe ask yourself what they’re going through in their personal lives that makes them end up on the gossip sites.”

He cleared his throat, a little surprised by how emotional he was getting about this. How much he meant it.

“Because I didn’t ask for this shit. I got involved with a guy and I was doing my damndest to keep it out of the press. I didn’t want a big coming out. Hell, I didn’t even want a small one. And I sure as shit don’t want them trying to stir up all that talk about me paying him. But I don’t get a choice about what they speculate about and I barely get to choose how to respond to it for fear of making the situation worse.

“Someone here in the organization is leaking team info and if I ever find out who it is, I will hunt them down and make them regret it.” He tapped his finger on Gilly’s desk to emphasize his point. “But how in the hell do you think we’re supposed to control what they write about us? At this point, we can’t fucking sneeze without them speculating about it. It’s bullshit, Gilly. And if I’m at my breaking point with it, you know a lot of other guys are going to be too.”

He clasped his hands, looking his coach in the eye. “So, you can do whatever you want to punish me. But we all fucking hate JockGossip. So why aren’t you on our side?”

“Huh,” Gilly said, slumping back in his chair, expression turning thoughtful. “I didn’t expect you to be the one to call me out on it.”

Dom lifted an eyebrow. That really wasn’t the response he’d expected.

“I knew someone was going to eventually but I didn’t think it’d be you.”

“Wait,” Dom said, rubbing his face, trying to understand. “Was this a test?”

Gilly shrugged. “In a way. I wanted to know what the team’s breaking point was. I wanted to know how far I could push and which of you was strong enough to stand up to me. Now I know.”

Dom suddenly felt very tired. But at least it didn’t sound like he was going to get in any more trouble.

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