Page 113 of Brutal Game

“Micah,” Kara chided softly at his side.

Micah ignored her. He stroked his beard. “Why not, Yacob? That’s your name. Yourrealname.”

And then I was across the room, staring him down from my slightly taller height, my hand gripping the collar of his pristine button down. “My real name is Jack. I left Yacob in the past years ago, in Teaneck. That kid isdead.He was foolish and needy?—”

“And vulnerable,” Micah interjected. He didn’t even flinch, just stared up at me calmly. I was a few inches taller than him, and it should’ve made me feel stronger.

It didn’t.

“Andpathetic,” I growled.

Luke and Conor, his and Kara’s partners, were at my side, glaring protectively.

“Get your hands off of him.”

Micah waved them off. “It’s fine. He’s angry. Tell me, why are you so angry, little brother?”

“Because you weren’t fucking there for me!” I exploded in his face. “Because you fuckingleftme there withhim.Andher.One day you were there, defending us, the nextyou were gone. And then Rebecca left, and who the hell was left to be a buffer for the younger kids? Who the hell took the brunt of our father’s drunken rage while our mother ignored all of it?Me. I was.And you didn’t give a single shit.”

Micah sighed. “He kicked me out. You know that. And Rivka…she had her own demons to fight.”

I didn’t give a fuck. “You could’ve come back. Could’vefoughtback. Instead you joined up and forgot us.”

“Jack…” Marcus interjected.

I released Micah. The fucker didn’t even stumble backwards. I whirled on Marcus. “And what about you? You show up when my life is finally together with your guilt and your money and your promise to make things right. But you didn’t. The money is nice,brother, but it doesn’t make up for the past.”

“I didn’t even know—” he started.

“Bullshit. You didn’t evencare.You know who cared? Coach Jensen. You know who rescued me? Him. So don’t show up now and act like you want to help me. You’re years late and dollars short.”

I heaved air into my lungs, trying to clear the red rage out of my eyes. Blinking, because I was a man, and men didn’t cry. That’s what Coach always said when I was young. Tears were for the weak, and I wasn’t weak.

Micah sighed, rubbing a hand over his short blonde hair, his tan face.

“You’re right, Jack. I’m sorry. I was young and scared and angry, and I fucked up. I should’ve saved my family, but I tried to save the world instead.”

Conor snorted. “And look how that went.”

Micah gave him a look. “I built a new family instead of taking care of my original one. Marcus and I, we can’t fix thepast. Butyoucan’t live in the past, Jack, or it will eat you alive.”

“I don’t even think about the past,” I told him.

He nodded. “You shove it away, right? Put it in a dark box and never crack the lid.” His voice softened. “But by facing it, acknowledging it, you can release it. Ignore it, and all the demons inside will keep banging at its walls until they break it open.” He looked at Marcus. “Something you should think about, too.”

Marcus scoffed. “We’re not here to talk about me. And I likemy demons.”

The Doc and Billy were the ones to snort this time.

I sat down on one of the benches, slumping over and burying my head in my hands. I hated that Micah was right. I’d held onto my rage too long. Channeled it into hockey and punishing anyone I felt had crossed me, or the only people I was loyal to.

Punished Aviva.

Hadn’t trusted her for so long.

And even when I began to, I still didn’t believe her.

Kara joined me on the bench. “Jack, why did you punch your teammate tonight?”

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