Page 4 of Cross Check Christmas
"Christmas Trade Freeze?" I bolt upright. "Since when are we talking about trades?"
"We're exploring your options," Malcolm says smoothly.
Derek shoots Malcolm a look that could freeze hell. "No one's saying anything definitive.”
My stomach drops.
"Hang on a minute," I say, "I don't care about being the highest-paid forward or whatever. The Titans are my home."
Derek gives me a warning look. "Hendrix, remember what we discussed about letting me handle the negotiations?"
I laugh. "I just want to play hockey!”
"And we want fair market value," Derek cuts in. "Your plus/minus ratings–-"
"Are impressive," Malcolm interrupts smoothly. "But also, there’s concern about your hits from an insurance standpoint."
"Those were all clean hits last night. Mostly clean. Okay, one of them might have been a bit enthusiastic."
"That's exactly the kind of thing we need to avoid right now," one of the managers pipes up.
"Maybe he's right,” Derek concedes with a sigh. “One injury during negotiations could tank everything."
Coach finally speaks up. "It's for the best, Ellis. Clear your head, let the suits duke it out."
Why does it seem like they’ve already discussed this before I arrived?
"But the team?—"
"Will manage," Coach Knight says, though he doesn't look happy about it. "We've got depth in the roster."
The thought of watching from the sidelines while my teammates play makes me feel physically ill. This is my team. These guys are my family. Owen, Sawyer, Griffin—we've beenthrough everything together. And if the suits decide to trade me… The thought of wearing different colors makes me want to check someone through a wall.
"How long?"
"Until we reach an agreement," says Malcolm. "Or until other arrangements are made."
"But-"
"No buts," Derek interrupts. "We need to protect your interests. You should stay off the ice until we resolve this."
"So what, I just... stop playing? Just like that?" I look desperately at Coach Knight. "Coach?"
He sighs. "It's for the best, kid. Take some time."
"We've made our decision," Malcolm says firmly. "Take some time off. Let us handle the negotiations. Consider it a paid vacation."
Looking around the room, I can see I'm outnumbered.
"Fine," I mutter. "But for the record, this sucks."
I slump back in my chair, defeated. The old hockey players stare down at me from their frames, and for once, I don't have a witty comeback ready.
"We'll continue negotiations while you’re gone," Derek assures me.
"You'll still come to practice and watch the games," Coach Knight says, slapping his big palm on my shoulder. "Non-roster players usually sit in the press box or a suite on game days. Keeps you out of the way, but you can still study plays, stay in the loop."
"Absolutely not." Derek's already shaking his head. "We need to keep him away from the media circus. One wrong comment to a reporter, one photo of him looking dejected in the press box, and our negotiating position tanks."
