“No?” he asks with faux surprise. The bastard is taunting me. “Strange, that’s what I assumed after learning that Miss Monroe is up and walking but not from you. In fact, I didn’t get so much as a peep from you. Or an answer tomymessages. For a month!”
I shift uncomfortably, “Well, you said I wouldn’t be able to play until playoffs anyway, so what’s the point?”
“What’s the point?What is the fucking point?” he bellows, slamming his board against the desk and then takes a deep, steading breath. “Thepoint, Quinn, is that this is your team, and you left it to fight against the wolves without their alpha! Thedamn playoffs aren’t going to happen unless you get your ass back out there.”
I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. What the hell does he mean?
“Speechless? Ashamed?” he taunts some more, and I frown.
“You are the one who kicked me out!” The temperature in my voice rises.
“But you are the one who never came back.”
“Why would I? To screw up some more?” I throw my arms out. “I’m clearly fucked up. You all are better off without me.”
“This is the first year in my time here that Outlaws might not make it to playoffs.” He shouts the last part, the sound shaking the pictures on the walls around us. “So, excuse me if I don’t care about your little tantrum.”
“It’s not a tantrum,” I grit out.
“No, you’re right. This is hockey and shit happens here, but you still pull yourself together and show up the next day. You get your anger, and you direct it at the puck! Not other players, not the ice that welcomes you every time you step on it. The puck. You wield it like the weapon it is, not an outlet you decided to make it this past year. What the hell is going on with you? Is it about your father?”
My head snaps up at his question, my heart hammering in my chest as those embers of anger spark up, gearing up for the blow out.
“It’s got nothing to do with him.”
“Oh, no? So, the fact that he passed away this year had no impact at all?”
I clench my teeth, looking away. “None.”
“I spoke to him, you know.” I freeze at his words. “Cole called me two years ago. He called and I contemplated dropping the phone, but he simply asked if you were happy. That’s all.”
If I was happy…did he die from delusion by any chance? And just like that I hate myself for that thought alone.
Fuck…
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“But you should.”
“If this is why you wanted me to come in, I’m leaving.” I turn for the door when his words stop me again.
“You are an Outlaw. The Outlaws are you. You might not be the team captain, but they all look up to you. They all follow you, and yes, this year you’ve let them all down. You screwed up, you allowed your personal problems to drag onto the ice but that doesn’t mean you walk away from them! Doesn’t mean you don’t wake up the next day and try harder.” I stay as I am, listening to him, taking in what he says but still not believing it.
How could they ever look up to me? How could anyone?
“Tell me, if Minaev would be going through a dark phase and suddenly quit playing, would you leave him be? Would you let him just throw away his life like that?”
“No.”
“Did you let Miss Monroe throw away her life?”
“No.”
“Look at me, son.” I’m weak against that and turn around. “So, why do you think yours is any less important?” I got nothing to say to that and Coach shakes his head. “You really don’t believe that you are. How did I not see that all this time?” He gets up from his chair, walking over to me and places his hands on my shoulders.
“We all screw up, Axe. Some worse than others but we all deserve another chance. You did. And you didn’t waste it.”
“What are you talking about?” I frown, not understanding what he means.