Page 13 of Blindside Sinner

Holy shit.They’re not playing.

Something I can’t name sits heavy in my chest until I think I’m going to explode. All I know is I can’t be in this claustrophobic little room anymore. I can’t sit here and watch my dreams circle the drain, all because of a few fucked-up nights that I barely remember.

“I… I need a break.”

Coach nods. “The boys are in the gym. Go work some of this out and we can talk again before you leave. This doesn’t have to be the end, Beck.”

But it already feels like it is.

7

BECK

The gym always has a scent of musk and sweat that I both loathe and love. It’s familiar, is what I’m trying to say.

Which makes sense. I’ve spent damn near all of my life in the gym. As a kid, I came to learn how to box with my dad. When things got bad with him, I went to purge the rage. Now, it’s my safe haven for both work and pleasure. A place where nothing matters but pushing myself to the limits and beyond.

“There he is—ladies and gentlemen, the man of the hour. Mr. Beckett Daniels!” Dixon announces melodramatically, waving his towel around like a lunatic. Since he normally has the thing tucked down his pants, I avoid getting hit like the plague. No secondhand ball sweat for me, thank you very much.

Dix has his surfer boy blonde hair pulled back in a little ponytail that looks ridiculous, not that he cares. Adrian is bench pressing, his face a mask of concentration with Colin poised over him to grab the bar if he falters.

The two are polar opposites. Adrian is all darkness. Deep tan skin, black hair, dark eyes. He’s got the cool, clinical outlook onlife, taking just about everything way too damn serious. It makes him a great leader for our rowdy bunch of misfits, though. The man has an iron fist and he knows how to use it.

Colin, on the other hand, looks light and fluffy. The ginger bastard is Irish through and through, complete with the Lucky Charms leprechaun’s pale skin, rosy cheeks, and freckles. The whole nine yards. He’s got the temper to match, too.

But there’s an undercurrent of anger in Colin that’s close to my own. It’s why we’re the best at what we do. We throw down every game to keep our teammates safe.

“So who’s the brunette?” Colin doesn’t take his eyes off the barbell while we talk.

“My new babysitter, apparently.”

That gets his attention. Adrian’s, too, since he racks the bar back and sits up. “Woah, woah, woah. Start from the beginning.”

So I do. As I talk, Dixon looks more and more pissed on my behalf, though Colin is obviously trying not to laugh. Adrian just looks like he’s thinking it all over. A blank slate, that one.

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” Dix asks when I’m done.

“I either accept Sloan is here to stay or I lose my spot on the team.”

Damn—saying it out loudsucks.

“Bullshit.” Colin grabs my face between his meaty paws. “You’re Beckett motherfucking Daniels. Who decided you have to have a sitter? You’re a fucking legend.”

Adrian rolls his eyes because being a legend isn’t enough to save any of us. Ice time, points, hits, trophies: all of it will be permanently out of reach if I can’t keep my ass out of trouble.

But as skeptical as he is, Adrian is loyal to the death. “What this idiot is trying to say is, you’ve never let anything get in the way of hockey before. Why let it happen now?”

“He’s right,” Colin says. “Get rid of Sloan and your problems will go out the door with her.”

“Christ, do you even attempt to listen?” Adrian growls. “This girl is just doing her job, so leave her alone. She didn’t cause this shit and getting rid of her is like putting a Band-Aid on a gunshot wound: fucking pointless because the actual problem is still going to be there.”

Dixon elbows me in the side and stage whispers, “It’syou. You’re the problem.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks for the explanation, jackass. Like I don’t know that.” I turn to Adrian. “So then what’s your suggestion, o wise one?”

“Toe the line,” he answers at once. When I scowl at him, he just scowls right back. “You fucked up, Beck. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s told you that, and I doubt I’ll be the last. You want to keep your job? Focus more on it than anything else. Forget the noise. Do what Coach and Hank want.”

“Fuck being a good boy,” Colin argues. “I say we get rid of her.”

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