Page 18 of Sporting Goods

Rayne turned just in time to watch her kid fall. Kids around him laughing.

And no one helping.

Rayne seemed like she was about to, but Jax stood on his own.

I honed in to try and hear what was happening on the ice. “Okay, let’s try it again, I’m going to pass it to you.” I heard him call out to the kid.

What the hell? The kid barely got up.

I didn’t have my skates on so I whistled as loud as I could to Jax. He saw me and I nodded him over.

“Jax. Time to get out of those skates. You had enough for today.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Rayne’s head snap towards me—and my tone.

“When are tryouts?” I asked the coach.

“Are you Dad?”

“No,” Rayne answered fast.

“When are tryouts? I repeated.

“Five weeks.”

Rayne left us and jogged over to Jax, checking his limbs.

He was red and tired and completely unhappy.

No one is coming near this kid.

“Thanks, if mom wasn’t discouraged by your little trick over there, he’ll be ready.” I shoved the flyer back at him and he stormed off.

“What are you doing?” Rayne snapped when I turned back to her.

“These guys just want your money and will waste time on purpose. You don’t think they set that up? He didn’t fall once with me. I will teach him hockey myself.”

“What do you know about hockey? You don’t even have a puck in your store. Also—thanks but no thanks. Not interested.”

“Fine. Go ahead and spend close to two grand for fake training and humiliation, apparently he needs more of that in his life,” I raged.

“Who the hell are you to—you don’t know us. You don’t know my kid. Thank you for today, but we’re done here.”

Coming back from returning his skates, Jax touched my arm. “Thanks Logan. I was getting really tired out there. I told him that, but he said it was the only way to get me on the team.”

“What?” Rayne hissed.

“I’m going to sit for a while,” Jax said before stepping up to the furthest benches from the rink.

“I don’t get it. He loved it a few minutes ago…with you.” She looked at me with revulsion.

I shrugged. “Don’t accept my help. But don’t work with these guys, either. Hire someone else. Watch some YouTube videos—anything is better than what I just witnessed out there.”

She considered it. “So what if he makes the team, how do I know they’ll have his best interest?”

“It’s an entirely different ballgame once you’re in. They want you to do well, they’re competitive. This here is just about weeding out the weak. And squeezing money out of unsuspecting parents.”

She removed my jacket and handed it back to me. “I won’t accept any more free training.”

---