Page 133 of Hitting the Goal Line
I can definitely see him becoming a great owner one day.
Speaking of which…
“Well, I’m glad you bought the Knights. Because if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now. Some other owner would have traded me the second that he saw my mugshot. Thank you for not doing that.” I hold out a hand and right away, he shakes it.
“No need to thank me. You’re a great player, Blake. I would have been stupid to trade you. Besides, if I was put in that position, I would have done the same thing you did. Especially if it was my sister, then I wouldn’t have stopped at a broken jaw.” Grayson voices.
“Trust me, I didn’t want to.” I grumble under my breath but he caught it.
He lets out a laugh, but quickly controls it. “How’s Sophia? I’ve seen some stuff in the media and I’ve been meaning to check in on the two of you, but I keep forgetting.”
After we got back from San Francisco, a statement was released by the team’s front office, going into some detail about what went down that landed me in a jail cell and my mugshot all over the place. The statement also stated that they were going to stay by my side no matter what and weren’t going to release me.
But of course, that was all overshadowed by Elijah’s damn smear campaign.
That fucking bastard.
“She’s doing better,” I tell him, my mind going to the smile she gave me this morning before she went to school. A smile that will be engraved in my mind forever, right next to the others. “It’s definitely still very much on her mind, more so now that this might go to court.”
“Does she need a lawyer? I know a few that would love to help her on her case.” Grayson offers.
“She has one but thank you for offering.”
As much as I would like to take him up on that offer, he’s already done a lot by keeping me here in Chicago, I don’t want to overstep.
“Of course. If that changes though, let me know and I will take care of it,” he states.
This guy really isn’t like other team owners, is he?
“I really appreciate that.”
Grayson Lane is actually a cool dude and not just some rich asshole that bought the team just because.
For the next ten minutes or so, we go back to shooting pucks and just talking about absolute nonsense. We don’t break until someone else joins us at the edge of the rink.
“Jacobi,” Logan calls out, looking like the mean motherfucker that he is. Add on that facial expression he’s wearing and not even the President of the United States would want to cross him.
“Yeah?” I call out, taking one last shot before turning to him.
“Crawford and Rodriguez said if I saw you, to tell you that we’re getting together to watch the game,” Logan yells out, reminding me of the text conversation that the four of us had yesterday.
“Alright, I’ll be right there.”
Grayson and I clean up the ice while Logan stands on the edge, looking pissed off.
He’s always pissed off, but for some reason he looks like he’s on an extra level today. What’s up his ass?
Logan’s anger issues get more intense when Grayson, approaches him, and that just confuses me even more.
“I should get going,” Grayson announces, shooting Logan a look before turning to me. “That offer, if you need it, let me know, and I will make some calls.”
“Sure thing.” I say to him, shaking his hand again as a thank you.
“Volkov,” Grayson throws in Logan’s direction, his eyes even narrowing in the process.
Okay, these two have to have history. What, I don’t know if I want to find out.
“Lane,” Logan spits out, which causes Grayson to chuckle, which just pisses Logan off even more.
