Page 210 of The Blame Game

Shea leaned forward, watching as Dom played like a man possessed.

He’d been in a horrible mood when he came home two days ago, morose and snappish at first until he collapsed into Shea’s arms and told him what happened.

Shea had suggested he give Colton a little time to cool off, then apologize to him and Birdie.

But if he had, it hadn’t worked.

Shea had flown to LA with the other SAPs, and now sat close enough to see the guys on the bench. Colton hadn’t once looked Dom in the face. For two periods, he’d looked past Dom like he didn’t even exist. And his play had been a mess.

But Shea was proud of Dom for playing so disciplined, despite the rift with his teammate and the worry over who had caused the leak.

Dom’s playing was a fraction of what he’d been capable of ten years ago. He wasn’t notching goal after goal or dazzling the defense to slam one home.

But he was doing everything right. His passes were crisp, he was always in position, and he was doing exactly what the team needed.

He was setting up his teammates for great chances and winning puck battles and faceoffs.

He was dialed-in in a way that wasn’t flashy, might slip by a more casual fan. But Shea could see it.

And when Dom finally got an assist on a goal by Jordan, Shea was there, screaming his head off in the stands along with all of the other Fisher Cats fans.

“Fucking listen to me, Colton,” Dom said urgently, his gloved hand on Colton’s chest as they waited in the hallway to go out for the third period.

They were down 3-2 and they’d just gotten screamed at by Gilly in the locker room after nearly forty minutes of getting screamed at on the bench.

If something didn’t change, they were fucked.

Dom continued, speaking in a low but insistent voice. “You can be pissed at me all you want. After this series is over, you can punch me in the face if it’ll make you feel better. I’ll apologize to you and to Birdie as many times as it takes for you to believe me. I’ll fucking grovel if you need. But don’t let your pride get in the way of this team winning.”

Colton glanced over, looking him in the eye for the first time. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re pissed at me right now and you’re playing distracted. I get it. I’ve been there. But this is not the time for it.”

“I’ve already got one goal tonight!” Colton protested. “How many points have you gotten, old man?”

He spat the last part like an insult but Dom couldn’t let it get under his skin.

“One. On an assist. We both know I’m not the one carrying this team anymore. You are. You’re a damn good player and you have it in you to be a leader in the future.”

Colton blinked. “You think so?”

“I do,” Dom said, and he meant every word of it. “This isn’t coming from jealousy. I want you to succeed. For your sake, for the team’s sake. I think you have the potential to be a better player than I was. But right now, you’re playing sloppy. You’re not forechecking, you’ve had two turnovers on the power play, and your shots are going wide more often than not. Is that the kind of play we need from you right now?”

“No.” Colton slumped, the fight going out of him. “And I’m sorry. I … I think I’ve been stressed about the playoffs and I took it out on you.”

“Okay. I get that. You’re forgiven. Now, take a couple of deep breaths and get your head out of your ass. What are you going to do when you go out there?”

Colton squared his shoulders, breathing deeply. “I’m gonna forecheck, I’m gonna clean up my turnovers, and I’m gonna dial in my shots.”

“Good.” Dom let out a sigh of relief. “That’s what I want to hear.”

Colton searched his face. “You mean it?”

“Mean what?” Dom asked, not sure which part he was referring to.

“That I could be better than you someday.”

“Absolutely. Colton, you’re a hell of a player. You have so much fucking potential it’s scary. Don’t blow it tonight because you’re pissed at me or stressed about your performance or any of that bullshit swirling around,” Dom said earnestly. “You have the skills. No one doubts that. But what we need from you tonight is to get your head right. At this point, winning is all up here.”

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