Page 184 of Game Misconduct
And like that, the energy shifts again.
Cal crosses the room and nudges me with his shoulder. “You good, Lasker?”
“No,” I admit. “But I will be.”
They don’t push.
They just let it hang there. This truth between us.
That I’m leaving.
That it’s not because I want to.
That it’s because I found something worth walking away for.
Riley leans back, cracking his knuckles. “You better go out with a bang, old man. Take some bastards down with you.”
“Yeah,” Finn adds, smirking. “Especially that dick from Boston.”
Cal perks up. “Joshua Leonard?”
“Fucking hate that guy.”
I glance at Jace, who finally speaks.
“You’ve got a couple games left to show them what kind of man you are.” His voice is steady, low. “Make it count.”
I nod once. “Yeah. I will.”
And I mean it.
Not just the games. Not just the hits or the wins or the final roar of the crowd.
I’ve got one shot left to earn the kind of ending I never thought I’d get.
And it starts right here.
In this locker room.
With the team I didn’t think would ever feel like mine.
I drag my bag onto the bench and start unzipping it. “One more thing,” I say, voice casual.
They all glance over.
I pull out my sketchpad. The one I haven’t touched since before everything went to hell.
I flip it open to a page halfway through, one I started in secret weeks ago and never finished. A Vipers logo, hand-drawn. But not the standard one.
This one’s got teeth. Edge. Fire behind the eyes. The kind of logo you bleed for.
I hold it up.
“Thinking about leaving this behind,” I say. “Something for the next generation.”
Finn whistles low. “Damn.”
Even Riley looks impressed. “You drew that?”
