Page 5 of Breakaway to You

I hadn’t thought he would send it my way, so I got a little slack on the ice, but Holden had known me since we’d been on the New York Coyotes together, so I should have anticipated his pass.

I grappled to get control of the puck and sped off toward the goal.

“Look who finally got the biscuit,” Jordan taunted, coming up alongside me and shoving me against the boards.

I gritted my teeth against my mouth guard and pushed back.

We wrestled for the puck, and when I broke free, I hurried to snap my wrist and get off a snapshot, holding my breath as the puck sped toward the goal.

Their goalie froze the puck, trapping it on the ice, and I growled in frustration at the save.

The buzzer sounded, ending the second period, and as I went to skate toward the bench, Jordan blocked me.

“Still trying to play the game, old man?” he sneered.

He was only five years younger than me, but five years in hockey years was more like fifteen.

I moved to go around him, ignoring him, but he matched my movements.

“What’s wrong, Grandpa? You can’t handle it that no one on yourtwentiethteam wants to pass the biscuit to you? That no one trusts you won’t fall and break that hip of yours?” He gestured to my right hip with his stick.

I ground my teeth together, breathing through my nose in hopes that I could tamp down my anger. Jordan wanted me to react, to fight him, but I wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction. He could goad me all he wanted about my age and how many teams I’d been on throughout my career, but when it came down to it, he was only doing this because he knew I was still a good player. One who had gotten the best of him plenty of times over the last several years.

“Lawson!” Coach Hill yelled. “Stop chitchatting and get your butt over here.”

I tried not to glare at Coach, but I didn’t think it worked. Yeah, I was just over here shooting the breeze with this jerk.

Jordan finally moved out of my way, and I skated past him, but his words trailed after me. “There’s no way you’ll be coming back out in the third period. You’re done, Lawson. Accept it. Everyone else has.”

His words made my blood boil as I made my way to the locker room.

I yanked off my helmet and sat down in front of my locker, waiting to hear what Coach had to say. The rest of the team was hydrating and changing jerseys while I re-taped my hockey stick.

“Lawson, you okay?” Coach asked, adjusting his ball cap.

“I’m fine,” I gritted out.

“Don’t lie to me,” he barked. “This is a team sport, and I won’t have anyone out on the ice who is only playing for themselves. Your puck control was off on that last play, and then Tuvalo hit you pretty hard. Tell me now if you’re not physically or mentally ready to go back out.”

I stood, chucking my stick on the floor. “I’m fine!” I roared. “If this is such a team sport, then why don’t you worry about the rest of your team? They won’t even pass to me!”

It wasn’t like me to yell at my coach, but between being invisible on the ice and Jordan getting in my head, I was a loose cannon.

“You know what happens to players who disrespect me?” Coach Hill asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “They sit on the bench. And that’s exactly where you’ll be next period.”

I wanted to scream.

My body fell back down to sit on the bench in front of my locker, the anger and fight in me dying out. I dropped my head in my hands, my sweat-damp hair curling around my fingers. My hockey world seemed to be crumbling around me, and I didn’t know how to fix it.

In all my years in the NHL, I’d never sat on the bench for an entire period. It was torture watching the Blue Jays beat us and not being able to do anything about it. I watched Cornell, who was a rookie, play my position, and every time he made a mistake, I tried not to look at Coach Hill with aHappy now?look.

It didn’t help my mood that Jordan kept giving me smug glances. When he had shut Cornell down hard, looking over at me and giving me a wink, I’d wanted to jump over the wall and punch him in the chiclets. His pretty boy face wouldn’t be so pretty with a few missing teeth.

The Blue Jays won 3-0. I hoped it wasn’t a precursor to what our season was going to be. We trudged into the locker room, mostly silent as we got undressed, ready to hit the showers.

Coach Hill strode in and stopped in front of me. “I want you to meet with Ms. Fallon as soon as you’re done showering. I need you as my right wing. I don’t care if you think you don’t need extra physical therapy. You’ll meet with her as often as she deems necessary, and you won’t talk back to me again. Do you understand?”

I nodded and worked to keep a smile off my face. “Yes, sir.” Glad he could see that he needed me out on the ice. Hopefully that would help the team see I was capable of helping them win.

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