Page 66 of The Blame Game

“People are good at hiding who they really are,” Dom said, staring at the carpet in front of him.

“That’s true,” Murphy said slowly. “Both the good and the bad, I think.”

“Maybe.”

“There have been some big changes for you guys the past couple of seasons too, huh?” Murphy said after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, definitely,” Dom agreed. “Shifting from being coached by Casey to Gilly has been … interesting.”

Murphy laughed softly. “I would imagine. Although I meant more the number of teammates you have coming out.”

“Yeah, we have a good culture around that though. The guys who wanted to come out have always known they could if they chose to.”

“No issues in the locker room?”

Dom shook his head. “Nah. I mean, the usual petty bullshit and the occasional guy with his head up his ass”—namely Dom himself being a dick to Matty about Antoni, though it hadn’t been about Matty coming out—“but overall, it’s been pretty smooth. I think we’ve had a few AHL prospects who weren’t so happy with it but they know by now that if they want a spot on the roster, they should play nice.”

“Sure, that makes sense,” Murphy said. “I think Evanston is pretty similar.”

They spoke a little more about the team, how Evanston was trying to rebuild their roster, what a great addition Shane Hurst had been to the team, and how long it would be before Evanston was a solid Cup contender again.

By the time the second period was about to start, they’d made a couple of loops around the arena, and Murphy paused. “Well, I’ll let you head back in, but thanks for chatting with me.”

“Sure,” Dom said, still a little confused about what the purpose of the conversation had been.

Murphy shrugged, smiling, as if he could read Dom’s uncertainty.

“I like to touch base with players when I get a chance. See if anyone needs to connect with resources that can help them.”

“Do you look out for the whole league?” Dom asked, amused by the idea. It was like Dustin, but on steroids.

“As much as I’m able. Sometimes the transition to retirement is hard or people need someone to talk to. Besides, I was an NHLPA rep like Fowler. I guess I have a hard time letting that go now that I’m retired.”

“Sure, makes sense. We’ve got it covered in Toronto though,” Dom assured him.

He had one nosy captain; he didn’t need another former captain worrying about him.

Murphy pulled a pen out and scribbled something on the back of a business card. “So, my work number is on the front and my personal number is on the back. If you ever want to reach out to talk about anything, I’m available. Retirement, your future career, or anything else, you reach out to whichever number you want. Whatever feels most comfortable.”

“Thanks?” Dom said, taking it and trying to work out what Murphy was telling him. They were having a spoken conversation and an unspoken one and he wasn’t sure what the unspoken one was about.

But whether it was the pain making his thoughts hazy and difficult to focus on or something else, he wasn’t sure.

Murphy clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got a great team, so I know you have people to talk to there. But I’m here if you ever need to speak to someone outside of that. About anything.”

“Thanks.” Dom said goodbye robotically, shaking Murphy’s hand and wishing him well.

But as he watched the remainder of the game, he felt like some part of himself remained frozen, his hand clasped in Murphy’s, trying to find the words to say thank you for something he didn’t even fully understand.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The buzz of Shea’s phone on the nightstand made him swear before he even got his eyes open. Who in the hell was calling at this hour?

He blinked, squinting at the phone in his dark bedroom but Dom’s name on his screen made him freeze.

It could be that Dom had gone out with the boys for a drink and was feeling loose and horny but somehow Shea doubted it. He’d ignored Shea’s messages for the past few days and hadn’t played against Evanston tonight.

Both were concerning.

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