Page 132 of The Assist
“Do you think I should go back?”
Ben studies me. “Doyou?”
I swallow. “Yes.”
“Then we go.”
“You’d come?” I don’t want to put any pressure on him but I really could use my big brother right now.
“Of course I would,” he says simply. “You’re my little sister. And they don’t get to make you feel small for being human.”
I bite my lip. “It’s not just the job, Ben. It’s Dylan. I don’t want to lose him.”
He softens. “Then fight for it all. The job. The Man. Yourself.” I nod, my heart thudding. He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Let’s go remind them who they’re dealing with.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
DYLAN
They post the notice on the bulletin board before most of the guys are even dressed for morning skate.
Transfer Listed
Daniel Cain
Effective immediately
It’s not printed big or bold. Just a standard white page with the club’s crest in the top-left corner. But it might as well be a siren blaring through the locker room. Jacko’s the first to spot it, mid-lace-up, and the entire bench room seems to tilt with the shift in the air.
Murphy lets out a low whistle. “Guess karma doesn’t skip leg day.”
Danny strolls in ten minutes later, holding a protein shake and grinning like he’s cracked a joke only he finds funny, until he sees the sheet.
“The fuck is this?” he mutters.
Ollie glances at me, then quickly looks away. Jonno, taping up sticks by the far wall, stays silent. He’s already said what he needed to yesterday when he pulled Danny off-ice after one of hislittle outbursts.
Coach Bentley follows a minute later, like a storm rolling in behind the sunrise. “Cain,” he says sharply. “Office. Now.”
Danny scoffs. “This is about the bird, isn’t it? Bloody joke, she was never gonna stay.”
Murphy stands up. “Watch it.”
I rise too, slow and steady. “Say her name again and I’ll make sure your last skate out of here is on crutches.”
Coach cuts in before it boils over. “That’s enough. Everyone else; on the ice. Now.”
I don’t see Danny again that morning.
Word travels faster than slapshots in our world. By the time we’re halfway through drills, everyone’s heard the whole story. How Coach was already keeping tabs on Danny’s behaviour; late to meetings and training, mouthing off at staff, the drama with the club’s PR team earlier in the season. His locker room comment about Mia was just the last match thrown into a pile of dry leaves.
I wish I felt some kind of relief but I don’t. I feel empty. Raw. Like someone sandpapered every part of me that still held hope and left it bleeding.
I haven’t heard from Mia again since her message, and I haven’t stopped checking.
It’s just after ten when I finally get off the ice and peel off my pads. I’m halfway through wiping the sweat off my face when Jonno taps me on the shoulder.
“You’ve got visitors,” he says.
