Page 84 of Unleashed

First time back on hockey territory since the loss to the Renegades. Even my exit interview happened at the surgery center, right before they carved up my knee on promises it would be “like new.” Bullshit promises, but the joint worked better. Better every day.

My gut churned as we moved deeper into the building I’d sunk a small fortune into partly owning. Seventeen years in the NHL taught me to analyze every angle, map out each possibility. But those instincts felt hollow now. Empty, like everything else since Austin.

“Weight room’s getting an upgrade next month.” Hoss’s massive frame filled the doorway ahead, pride evident in the sweep of his arm. “New racks coming in, plus some specialized equipment for goalie training.” He hesitated, shooting me a sideways glance. “Renegades have been sending their development guys here, though maybe that’s... shit, probably too soon to mention them, huh? We’ve got players from the Torrent too, and some Sabres prospects coming down next month.”

The mention of the team that ended my career should have triggered something—rage, regret, the bitter taste ofalmost. Instead, I just felt hollow. Hollow in a way that had nothing to do with losing that final game and everything to do with what—who—I’d lost after. A grinding ache no surgery could fix.

“You good with that?” Hoss asked when I didn’t respond right away, his voice gruff with concern that scraped against my nerves. “The Renegades thing? I can schedule around—”

“I’m fine.” The words came out sharp. Certain. Complete bullshit, but I’d perfected that mask. “It’s business.”

Hoss nodded, but something in his expression said he wasn’t buying my act. I tracked the layout with a player’s eye, muscle memory already mapping optimal training circuits. Two-story setup with recovery spaces tucked away from the main traffic flow. Smart. Keep the serious work separate from the youth programming chaos. “Good bones,” I said, meaning it. “Clean sightlines to the ice from up here too.”

“Remember that playoff series against Tampa?” Hoss grinned as we climbed to the observation deck, clearly eager to move past the awkward moment. “You were a fucking menace on the forecheck that whole round.”

“Ancient history.” But I returned his smile, memories of battling with Hoss flooding back. Guy had been a force of nature on the ice—the kind of player who made the team better just by showing up. Now he was building something real here. Something that mattered.

Below us on a small sheet of ice, a youth practice ran through edge work drills. Their instructor’s voice carried up, patient but firm as he corrected techniques. Good form, especially with the smaller kids. Building foundations that would serve them well down the line.

I recognized the instructor’s jersey—Renegades’ farm team logo. Another reminder of how small the hockey world could be. How impossible it would be to avoid the team that had ended my run at the Cup.

“Main rink’s regulation size,” Hoss said, leading me toward the far end of the room. His shoulders tensed as a couple more Renegades development guys filed onto the ice. “Second sheet’s smaller—perfect for skills work. Shooting lanes, stick handling stations. Planning to add some tech upgrades now that the partnership’s locked in. We can schedule your training blocks whenever you want. Keep things... separated, if that works better.”

Partnership. The word still felt strange. A month ago, I’d been Captain Jack Vignier, face of the Aces franchise. Now? Now I was just another retired player trying to figure out what came next. And apparently being handled like fragile glass by one of the toughest enforcers to ever lace up skates.

“Stop walking on eggshells, Hoss.” I kept my voice steady, controlled. “The Renegades earned their shot. Won the series. We played hard. They played hard. Respect.”

Hoss’s face split into a grin. “Damn, was starting to think retirement had turned you soft like it did me.” He landed a meaty hand on my shoulder. “Though if you’re looking to prove otherwise, we can always take it to the ice. A little one-on-one never did me wrong.”

I snorted, some of the tension bleeding from my shoulders. Leave it to Hoss to know exactly how to cut through my bullshit. Through the glass, the second rink sprawled below us, pristine ice gleaming under LED lighting. No seats, just clean space purpose-built for development. My mind raced ahead, mapping possibilities—multiple stations running simultaneously, video angles for technique analysis, recovery zones tucked away but accessible. The kind of setup that could shape the next generation of players.

“Got serious players interested already,” Hoss continued as if reading my mind. “Word gets around, you know? Your name’s gonna draw more talent. Lots of teams looking for that edge in development—not just the Renegades.” He paused, pushed his shoulders back, pride in his voice.

“Got a whole crew coming up from Florida next month,” Hoss continued, like he was trying to prove the place wasn’t just a Renegades training ground. “Hurricanes’ prospects, couple guys from Tennessee coming to give us a look. Top end talent from everywhere, brother.”

I grunted acknowledgment, studying the custom targets mounted at each station. High-end gear, well-maintained. Everything about the place said serious business wrapped in small-town packaging. On paper, this move made sense. Perfect sense.

But I moved through a fog these days, like I’d never fully shaken the anesthesia after surgery. Going through motions. Following routines. Waiting for something to feel real again.

I meant what I said about not begrudging the Renegades their win. Hell, they’d earned it. But seeing their guys here, in what was supposed to be my fresh start? Twisted something in my gut. Reminded me exactly how it felt watching that final goal sail past our goalie. Watching my last shot at the Cup fade to black.

Then a kid’s laugh echoed off the rafters, pure joy cutting through my bullshit. Made me think of Puppy, all eager energy and stars in his eyes. The way he soaked up every scrap of knowledge like it was gold.

My chest loosened. Outside of playing, nothing beat the rush of watching someone fall in love with the game. Seeing that spark ignite. I could do that here. Guide the rising stars, nurture the dreamers. Maybe that was worth more than chasing ghosts of what could have been.

“You know,” Hoss said, his voice taking on that careful tone that set my teeth on edge, “as much as I pushed, I didn’t really think I stood a chance. Figured you’d head home. Set up shop somewhere up in Canada. My nephew insisted I ask one more time and damned if you didn’t reply the next day.”

“Signed the lease for a place in Weston Mill this morning. Thanks for putting me in touch with the owner,” I said, redirecting before he could dig deeper into my reasons for choosing Virginia. Before he could probe the wounds that still felt raw. “He set me up in a little shotgun house, walking distance to downtown.”

Hoss’s eyebrows shot up. “Settling in, then? We’ve got three counties-worth of people around here, with a couple of tiny towns all within a stone’s throw. You can’t escape the gossip machine in Three Corners.” His grin widened. “Good thing Rae’s got the best hangover cure this side of the Blue Ridge. You’re gonna need it once the welcome wagons hit. And wait’ll you try her maple peanut croissants. She’ll put your fancy Austin breakfast spots to shame.”

The idea of a parade of people knowing my business should have set off warning bells. Instead, it felt... unsurprising. I’d grown up in a tiny town in the backwoods of Quebec. It’d been a long time, but I remembered the life.

“Speaking of settling in...” Hoss stopped outside what would become my office. “Your home away from home,” he said, gesturing to the space currently being cleaned out.

The view of the mountains through the back windows made up for the upheaval that would be my life for the next few weeks as I learned a new routine. I could look out on those mountains all day.

“I’m right next door when you need me,” Hoss continued. “Fair warning though—the coffee maker in my office draws everyone in. Rae upgraded it last Christmas and now it’s like Grand Central Station in there.”

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