Page 5 of My Pucked Up Enemy

That kills the noise.

Ethan exhales a big sigh. Parker gives me a look, one of those patient, older-brother types that makes you want to throw a water bottle at his head.

“We haven’t won in six games,” he says. “Maybe sharing feelings isn’t the worst idea.”

“I’d rather do pushups until I barf.”

“You might get both,” James mutters.

I grunt and stand up. My legs ache and my lower back’s tight, even after the stretch. The ghost of my injury likes to remind me it never really left. It just got quiet enough for me to ignore.

I wish I could ignore the rest of it as easily. The pressure. The eyes. The way one bad game feels like a personal failure stamped across my chest.

The truth is, I haven’t been sharp. Not in weeks. Not since the nightmares started creeping back in. Not since I started hearing the whispers again, not from anyone else. Just from me. The worst ones always come from inside.

You’re slow. You’re off. You’re the reason they’re losing.

No shrink can fix that.

I head toward the gym.

Weights don’t ask questions.

***

I’m halfway through my third set of deadlifts when Parker strolls in, wiping sweat from his neck with a towel. He nods at me and grabs a pair of dumbbells.

“You working through something or trying to prove something?” he asks.

I grunt. “Yes.”

“Thought so.”

He goes quiet for a bit, focusing on his reps. I go back to mine. The metal clang is oddly soothing. It drowns out the noise in my head.

After a while, he speaks up. “You know she’s not just here for the drama, right?”

“Everyone’s here for the drama.”

“She’s worked with SEAL teams.”

“Great. So, she’s qualified to listen to guys with God complexes and authority issues.”

Parker shoots me a look. “You’re saying that from experience?”

I glare at him.

He shrugs. “I’m just saying… maybe she actually knows what she’s doing. You saw her in that room. She didn’t take the bait. Didn’t back down. Hell, she shut James up. That alone deserves a medal.”

I shake my head. “She’s just another suit trying to shrink the room.”

“Or maybe she’s here because some of us are cracking and don’t want to admit it.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

He doesn’t mean it like a jab. That’s not Parker’s style. He’s not Connor with the fire or James with the snark. He’s calm. Steady. The guy you go to when your life’s falling apart and you don’t want anyone else to know.

That makes it worse.

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