Page 104 of Puck Struck
"I understand, but I want you to fully comprehend what this means for your future?—"
"Doc, with all due respect, my career is already over. My nephew's life isn't." I swallow hard. It’s not even a choice. I’d cut my fucking arm off to save Ethan’s life. "Schedule the transplant surgery. We'll deal with my shoulder after Ethan is safe."
"Are you sure? Once we move forward, there’s no turning back.”
"I've never been surer of anything in my life."
I crash back onto my mattress after hanging up with the doctor. My eyes drift closed for exactly one second before my phone buzzes again. With a groan, I grab it and glare at the screen.
It’s a text from Rex Ashton, my agent.
Need to talk ASAP. Management wants damage control on the retirement announcement.
My finger hovers over the screen to type a response when another text from Eli Hartnet, the team’s PR director, pops up in my notifications.
Media's going crazy. We need a unified message.
I’m not ready to deal with this shit right now.
I barely make it into the kitchen and over to the coffee maker when my phone starts blowing up again. A reporter from ESPN. Then one from TSN. Then the local news. I let them all go to voicemail, but the calls keep coming and my patience is stretched like a rubber band ready to snap.
By eight, there are news vans parked outside my house.
I sink onto the couch in my office and run my handover the cushion, my mind stumbling back to the other night when Cam was over...when we were together and it was the most connected I’ve felt to someone in longer than I can remember.
The phone rings, startling me from my thoughts. I jab the screen and click the Accept button.
"Hey." I sit up and run a hand through my hair, the tightness in my chest relaxing the slightest bit.
“Hi,” Cam says. “I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”
The weight of my situation constricts my chest until it’s hard to breathe. It’s so much, and even though Cam wants to help, it might be better for us both if I handle things on my own right now.
"Look, I’ve been thinking,” I say slowly, my heart aching with every word. “Maybe we should keep some distance until this blows over. Just until after the surgery, until things calm down."
Silence on the other end.
"Cam?"
"Yeah. Distance. I get it."
The sharp pain in his voice slices into me, but I tell myself it's for the best. Simpler. Safer. Temporary.
"I'll see you at practice," I say.
"Right. Practice."
I head to the management offices a couple of hours later, bracing myself for the fallout I know is coming. Nobody smiles when I walk into the conference room. Bob Marshall, the GM, and Eli Hartnet are there, stiff and stoic. They're scrambling after yesterday's media explosion, trying to control a narrative that's already spiraled out of their hands.
"The retirement announcement should have gone through proper channels," Bob says. "Coach Enver should have known better than to handle it as he did. Now we're dealing withspeculation, rumors, reporters calling about everything from your medical history to your personal relationships."
"I told the team the truth. My nephew needs surgery, and I'm the only family donor. There’s too long a wait on the transplant list, and we might not get a compatible liver in time."
"That's the story we're sticking with. Noble sacrifice, veteran leader putting family first. Clean and simple."
“It’s not a story,” I growl. “It’s the truth. And thanks for asking how my nephew is, by the way. I get that you’re worried about the team and media backlash, but this is life or death for Ethan. I’d hate to think I gave you guys fourteen years and you can’t even give me the courtesy of understanding my situation.”
“Logan, you know we are concerned about you and your nephew’s well-being, and your health and safety supersedes everything else,” Eli says in a weak attempt to smooth things over, but that asshole Bob already did the damage. Eli leans forward, clasping his hands together. "We need to make sure there are no... complications that could muddy the waters."
