Page 148 of Breakneck Hockey

I could use a break from him anyway. But not too long a break.

As if he can hear my thoughts, Alderchuck sends me a text. It better be him telling me what a tolerant boyfriend I am. What a fuck-awesome boyfriend I am. How sorry he is because he’s realized that I’m right and Milton’s a lying sack of shit.

Shoving the last of my freshly washed crap into my carry-on, I grab my phone, already thinking about what my response to his groveling will be.

I’ve been punched in the gut so many times that I’m almost immune to it, but I’m not prepared for the sucker punch Alderchuck lands.

Kitten

Good news. The Arovinis are leaving this till after the playoffs. Let’s take the win and lie low for a bit. We’ll still get to grind each other into the ice. And we’ll go from there, okay?

Lie low? And what does “we’ll go from there” fucking mean?

I don’t know what Casey means, but I know how the words feel. They give “he’s reevaluating us” vibes and they turn my world on its axis.

I can’t believe him. How fucking dare he? That means there’s still part of him that blames me for this shit and another part of him that still thinks if he does what Milton says, he’s safe. He’s only safe from someone like Milton until the next round of bullshit.

My phone rings, lifting my heart because it’s such a fucking idiot, hoping it’s Casey calling to tell me he loves me.

I still haven’t told him how much I fucking love him. I’ve chickened out every time. The words have been there, ready tofall off my tongue, but they don’t come out. If I can’t even tell him that, maybe weshould“go from there” after the playoffs. Whatever the fuck that means.

It’s not Casey. It’s Trish. That means something about the kids. Because of course. Things don’t fall apart one at a time, they fall apart the way an avalanche does, a tumble of cold shit that buries you alive. What are the chances it’s good news?

“Sutter? Thank fuck I’ve caught you. Have you left yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. We have a situation. I didn’t find the uncle you mentioned, but I kinda sorta found Charles’s dad. I was going to wait to tell them till you were done with hockey, but Charles found out.”

“It wasn’t good news? You found their dad—I’d think they’d be happy. Unless he sucks?”

“No. I foundCharles’sdad. Still nothing on Stevie’s. Turns out, they’re half-brothers, which is just one of the many things Charles is pissed about. Charles’s dad didn’t know about Charles. Charles didn’t know that he and Stevie are half-brothers.”

From the careful way she’s talking, I get the impression she may have done some things she’s not supposed to do to get that information. But she found Charles’s dad, so I’m not gonna ask questions.

“But how does all that work? He seems to think someone else is his dad. He was old enough to remember.” He said his dad left after Stevie came along. Charles would have been nine or ten.

“No idea, but Charles’s dad lives up North in Prince George. He mentioned taking Charles, but not Stevie.”

Ah, got it. He’s worried he’ll be separated from his brother. That’s also kinda far. He wouldn’t be able to see his mom all that often if he went to live with him. “Okay, put him on. I’ll talk to him.”

“Remember I said many problems? Charles left. I think he assumed we’d simply ship him off there, even though I told him we weren’t doing anything until you were home from hockey.”

What is up with people assuming shit and taking off? I’ve had about enough of it for a lifetime.

“Do you have any idea where he might go?” she asks.

“To see his mom?”

“Checked there already.”

Fuck. “Okay, lemme just think this through. I’ll call you right back.”

Hanging up the phone doesn’t bring me any peace. There’s frantic banging on the door. Since you can’t get into my building without a fob, I know it’s either robbers, the police, Rhett, or my mom—I confiscated Lane’s fob after the shit he pulled last time.

I hope it’s robbers right now.

“Open the fucking door, Mitchell,” a baritone voice says. Should have known it would be Rhett.

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