Page 46 of The Perfect Snipe

I head over to the group, sliding into coach mode. “Today we're working on passing drills. I want to see clean passes, heads up, always aware of where your teammates are. Got it?”

A chorus of “Yes, Coach Leo!” rings out. At least they’re listening to me.

Wyatt and I skate around the ice between each group, offering pointers and encouragement. My gaze lands on my son and I head over to him. “Mason, follow through with your stick.”

He nods, his face scrunched in determination. He makes the pass, the puck sliding smoothly to his teammate.

“That's it!” I can't help the smile that spreads. “Good job.”

Everyone says he’s a smaller version of me, and sometimes it makes me proud. Other times, I worry. Mason’s great at hockey, and a natural born leader, but I notice the pressure he puts on himself, how he devotes his extra time to practicing to perfect his skills.

Yeah, it shows his determination and dedication, but I’ve seen him pass up going to a teammates’ house only to end up in our driveway playing by himself. And that’s just what I see . . . when I’m around.

Does he do it more than I know about? More than the babysitters have seen?

A puck hits the blade of my skate and I look to my left as Keith, his red hair sticking out from under his helmet, makes his way over.

“Sorry, Coach. It got away from me.”

Guess that’s my signal to head over to another group, especially when I look over and notice Jake frustrated and banging his stick. Ah, he made the pass.

“Clanton. Need you for a sec.”

Wyatt skates to me and I jut my chin toward Jake, so he skates over toward his future stepson.

“Alright guys, watch me. Wyatt and I are going to demonstrate and do it slowly.”

I go through the motion, explaining each step. Jake's eyes are glued to my stick, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Taking a step back, I look at the group. “Now you try.”

Jake takes a deep breath, then mimics the move. It's not perfect, but it's close.

“That's it!” Wyatt exclaims, giving Jake a high five. “See? You've got this, buddy.”

As Jake skates off to practice more, Wyatt turns to me. “Thanks, man. You've got a way with the kids.”

The two of us stay a few more minutes before skating off. Wyatt bumps my shoulder, saying again, “You really are great with the kids. Maybe try to use some of that same enthusiasm with our team.”

I stiffen. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Leo. You're a good leader, but there’s a reason we call you Captain Fuckface sometimes. And off the ice? You’re like a ghost. Having kids is not an excuse because you’re not the only one.”

His words sting because they're true. I've kept myself separate, distant.

Safe.

“And you’re one to talk?”

He shrugs, completely unfazed. “It’s why I can say this shit. I learned the hard way. Ian’s been my friend forever, but I never thought Garrison Lund would step in and help protect Jake. And you’ve seen how the dynamic between me—former Minotaurs enemy number one— and the rest of the team has changed.”

He’s got me there.

Wyatt’s past behaviors had everyone’s hackles raised when he found out he was joining the Minotaurs. Hell, the first few months some guys could barely stand to be around him. Myself included.

He was like having an overgrown child I got stuck babysitting. But now he’s my best friend–ish.

“No one hates you, Leo. So, you’re ahead of the game. But they don’t really know you either.”

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