Page 140 of Blindside Sinner

BECK

Through two periods, I’m playing my best game of the season. Three goals and two assists in a thorough ass-whooping of the Brooklyn Knights. I’m checking Sloan’s reaction after every highlight reel play. She’s grinning ear to ear, clapping, shouting, singing along. Seeing her smile makes mine grow bigger.

I like winning for her.

I like performing for her.

I like knowing she’s mine.

Then the third period begins. I look for her. She’s in her seat, but the smile is gone. She looks like she’s seen a ghost.

And my father is sitting beside her.

He’s speaking to her like he knows her. Her body language is off. She’s curled into herself, head shaking, eyes darting, shoulders rising and falling too quickly.

I want to skate over, hop the boards, and put a fist through his face right now. I need to figure out what the fuck is going on andwhy my father is speaking to her, how the fuck he found out that she’s with me.

There’s no telling what he’s saying to her.

Dix skates past and nudges me. His brow is arched in a silentYou alright, bro?I only glance away for a second then back.

She won’t meet my eye. When I look for my father again, he’s gone and she’s alone. We’re in a stadium full of people, but she’s never looked lonelier.

I do a lap of the ice and then head to the faceoff circle because we’re getting ready to start. I get waved out because my timing is off when I slap at the puck before it gets dropped. So Dix steps in, takes the faceoff, and passes the puck to Colin.

The next pass is meant for me, but it hops over my stick and gets taken by some rookie I’ve never seen before. He looks about twelve, but he’s fast as hell and he whizzes past me. I give chase, but this kid can stick handle and he takes a sharp, angled shot that sails over Nate’s stick side.

Just like that, Brooklyn is back in the game.

Fuck.

I skate to the bench and climb over the boards while the rookie celebrates with his team. “Shit, my bad, guys.”

Dix nods. He’s staying on the ice, but I need a minute. Coach is standing behind me. “You alright, Daniels?”

I couldn’t even begin to explain what’s going on. Not to him or even to myself. So I don’t.

I just sit and marinate in the feeling of the walls closing in around me.

“How do you know that guy?” These are the first words out of my mouth when I see her.

“What guy?” She keeps her eyes fixed forward, refusing to meet mine.

“The one you were talking to. The old guy in the leather jacket.”

“I wasn’t talking to anyone.” She’s still not looking at me.

Why is she lying?

“I saw him, Sloan. How do you know him?”

“I, um, I uh, I don’t know him. He was… in the wrong section. Needed help finding his seat.” We’re out of the tunnel now and she’s hurrying toward the car. I catch up and grab her wrist to make her face me.

“Sloan, how the fuck do you know that guy?”

“I just told you Idon’tknow him.” She shakes me off her wrist. “And even if I did, I don’t have to tell you everything about my life, Beck.”

There’s such venom in her tone. I don’t know what to do with it. If she was anyone else, I wouldn’t waste a second sending her on her way.

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