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Chapter Eighteen

Cole

T oday is the day. The day I’m finally officially cleared to get back on the ice, not that I haven’t already been sneaking out and running drills, much to Michele’s and Parker’s dismay, but nothing too strenuous. Coach Mercer let it slide, limiting me to doing speed drills without my stick, but it was something. Risking his ire was worth it because it all led here: my chance to finally come home.

“Are you waiting for a personal invitation?” Beau smacks me hard on my helmet before stepping onto the ice and heading toward the rest of the team.

It’s been a few days since our argument over the phone, but he’s acting as if nothing happened. He hasn’t even mentioned the conversation, which is odd, especially for him, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I’m just taking it all in,” I mumble to no one in particular.

I’ve missed this more than I knew. The sound of blades slicing across ice echoes in the arena, mingling with the thud of pucks against the boards and the occasional bark from Coach Mercer. The only thing missing is the roar of the crowd as I score the winning goal. To imagine that I could’ve lost all of this…

“It’s a little surreal, isn’t it?” Every muscle in my body tightens at the sound of my oldest brother’s voice.

I knew I was going to run into him, with today being the first day the entire team is back, but he still caught me by surprise. I figured Beau would’ve warned him to keep his distance, but Cooper isn’t one to respect anyone’s wishes. I don’t know why I thought he’d start now.

“What?” I respond, my jaw clenched tightly shut.

Right now, Cooper is my team captain, not my older brother. He is the leader of this team and one of the two people I have to convince that I’m a team player and will always put the team above myself. To me, that’s more than obvious with the fact that I’m even here on the ice in the first place, but something tells me Cooper won’t let it be that easy. But honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Being back here after a potential career-ending injury.” He reaches out to grab my right shoulder, but I take a step back.

I’m barely holding on by a thread. The desire to sock him in the jaw is almost unbearable. Almost. I count backward from ten, hoping that will help me remain calm as I try to figure out a way out of this conversation and away from my big brother.

When I don’t say anything, he sighs, running his hand through his hair. “When I was cleared to skate, I was in the locker room at 5:00 a.m. and just sat here, watching the Zamboni clear the ice.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one, but at least I did some stretches and my routine for my physio instead of creepily watching the Zamboni.”

Cooper chuckles softly. “Touché.”

We stand there in silence, watching the rest of the team stretch and getting ready for practice to start. I notice Cooper opening and closing his mouth a few times, probably trying to think of something else to say.

“Cole, I—” he begins, but I hold up my hand.

“Please save the heart-to-heart chat for someone who cares, Cooper.” I turn toward him, my eyes locking with his. “I already told Beau that you are the team captain. On the ice, I’ll follow your lead, but off the ice, you and I are nothing.”

“I’ll always be your brother, Cole.”

“A fact that I would much rather forget,” I respond before stepping onto the ice and skating toward the rest of the team.

Was I too harsh? If I was, I don’t care. Cooper needs to know where I stand. He is the team captain. The leader of the team. A fact that I can’t ignore, especially if I want to be a part of this team. On the ice, dealing with Cooper is a necessary evil, but off the ice, I don’t want to have anything to do with him, or Beau, for that matter. I’m here to do a job, and I don’t plan on letting anything or anyone impede my dream of winning the Stanley Cup.

* * *

“Let’s go, let’s go! You skate like my grandma on Xanax!” I swerve past a rookie defenseman, flicking the puck toward the net, and grin when it pings off the post.

“You must be losing your edge, little brother,” Beau says from his place in the crease. “Maybe you want Jensen to give you some pointers.”

“It’s all in the backhand, Hendrix,” Jensen shouts as I skate past him, retrieving the puck and heading back in toward the net.

Jensen has been a pain in my ass since I met him on day one of rookie training camp. I must have wronged this kid in another life because it seems like he goes out of his way to give me shit any chance he gets. No matter where I am, he’s right behind me, chirping and giving me a hard time about every little thing I do on the ice. I would like to say it's all in good fun, but ever since that night in the gym when he took a dig at Michele, I’m not so sure. He’s also a center, so he and I are fighting for the same spot on the team. Fingers crossed, I can make it through the rest of practice without wanting to take his head off every time I get near him.

“You just got lucky, old man. I think you’re getting slower with your trapper.” I laugh, doing a triple deke before shooting, the puck gliding right between his legs. “Coming from the guy who just got nutmegged.”

“This isn’t the first time that’s happened.” Benson chuckles, making his way around the net and back to center ice.

Benson is another one of the veteran offensive players on the team. He’s been here for the last few years and raves about how amazing my brothers are, which made me hate him almost immediately. He seems like a halfway decent guy, an amazing winger, but he needs to learn to stop yapping so much. A good chirp session on the ice is normal, but I don’t need someone else following behind me, singing my brothers’ praises.

“When was the first time?” I yell, wanting to know all the juicy details.

“Last season. By a forward half his size.”

“I wasn’t nutmegged. I slipped,” Beau whines, causing all of us to laugh loudly.

“Right. Slipped. On your pride?” Benson responds, slapping the puck toward the net, but Beau easily deflects it with his stick.

“Where is your shadow, Sammy, today?” Jensen chirps, and I roll my eyes.

“He’s with the defenders, where he belongs.” I motion with my chin to the other side of the rink. Sammy and a few other defenders I don’t know are running drills under Coach Mercer’s watchful eye.

Sammy has definitely been hanging around me a lot recently, mostly because he’s been mine and Michele’s lookout and cover story when we want to sneak away for a private moment. But he’s also a genuinely cool guy and an asset to the team. If I were on speaking terms with Cooper, I’d put in a good word for him. From speaking to him, I don’t believe he’s in danger of being cut, but you never know.

Across the rink, Logan—one of the rookies and self-declared locker room philosopher—skates up beside us, flipping his stick in his gloved hand. “Can we at least pretend we’re professionals today? Just until the cameras stop rolling?”

I have nothing good to say about Logan, mostly because he reminds me of Cooper. I don’t know if it’s the smug smile that has become a permanent fixture on his face or the way he pretends he’s better than everyone else. I don’t know. Logan was called up from the Timberwolves AHL team, but the details are very hush-hush. No rumors spreading around the locker room, zip. Which can be both a good thing and a bad thing. I, for one, haven’t decided which yet.

“There are no cameras,” I respond, my eyes scanning the almost-empty stands a second time just to be sure.

Remy warned me that the Timberwolves have open practices at the start of the season, wanting to get the fans amped for the season. Which, mostly, seems like a good plan, but the potential for a reporter trying to get a shot of the three Hendrix brothers would be too much for a reporter to pass up.

“There are always cameras. Or a thirsty physiotherapist.” Jensen winks, causing everyone around us to laugh loudly.

But not me. I’m currently imagining every possible way I can get rid of him without going to jail. This isn’t the first time one of the guys has made a comment about Michele. It’s to be expected. The hockey locker room is usually a male-only area. The last thing anyone is worried about is disrespecting women.

“I wonder if she’s single,” Logan asks as everyone’s attention turns toward her in the box, sitting and waiting for one of us to be injured, apparently.

I know she is here for everyone on the team, but there is a part of me that wants to believe she came out here to watch and make sure I’m okay. Either way, it’s pure torture. The universe is definitely out to get me. Am I being dramatic? Possibly, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Now that Michele and I have finally given in to temptation and tasted the forbidden fruit, it is almost impossible to keep my hands to myself. We have been trying to keep our distance from each other, but that’s much easier said than done. I usually see her at least once a day, sometimes more, depending on our training schedule, and that still doesn’t seem to be enough. The sneaking around is taking its toll on both of us.

“Does it matter? She’s a staff member,” Beau responds, his eyes flicking to mine for a few moments before flicking to Logan.

“There aren’t any rules against it,” he responds, but I shake my head no. “How do you know?”

I open my mouth to respond, but snap it shut. The last thing I need is these assholes knowing what’s going on between us and that I’m completely obsessed with her.

“It doesn’t matter. She is off limits.” Beau shoves Logan in the shoulder, causing him to stumble. “Now get back to doing drills before Coach comes out here and rips us a new one.”

I should follow behind them, but I remain rooted in place. My eyes remain locked on her. Everything around me seems to fade into the background as I watch her bring a water bottle to her mouth, her lips wrapping around the top as she tips it back to take a healthy pull from the bottle. Parker leans over her shoulder, his back pressed against her side as he whispers something into her ear. Michele throws her head back, and a full belly laugh bubbles from her throat. It's one of the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard, and I want to smash Parker’s face in.

“I’m jealous that you get to keep her all to yourself, Hendrix. I’d love to ask her for some stretching tips.” Jensen winks as he skates by, and I immediately see red.

“Stay the fuck away from Michele,” I growl, shoving him so hard he goes skidding across the ice, his back slamming hard into the boards.

“Calm down, Hendrix. He was just kidding around.” Benson grabs my arm, but I shrug him off. “What the fuck was that about, Cole?”

I inhale and exhale quickly, trying to regain some of my composure before things get out of hand. I promised myself I wasn’t going to do this. I was going to keep my head down, do my job, and then rinse and repeat. I thought my biggest problem was going to be being on the ice with my brothers, but I guess Michele is also a problem. An exquisite and tempting problem. Fuck. Why does my life have to always be so fucking complicated? She’s just a girl. A girl who turned me down. Why can’t I just forget about her and move on?

“He shouldn’t be disrespecting her like that.” The desire to throw my stick and gloves onto the ice and put my fist through Jensen’s face is growing stronger with each passing minute.

Beau must sense my dilemma because he comes to a stop in front of me, blocking Jensen from my view as he struggles to get back on his feet. “He’s just a snot-nosed kid trying to show off for the veterans on the team.”

“I don’t care. No one should talk about her like that. She’s a human being, not some piece of meat for them to ogle when in the locker room.” I move to the right to skate around him, but he matches my movements.

We dance like this on the ice for a few moments before I stop, crossing my arms and scowling at him. He doesn’t say a word, just stares at me, his eyes scanning my face as if he’s searching for something. What that something is, I have no idea, and right now, I don’t know if I fucking care.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” I growl, my eyes flicking over to Cooper, deep in conversation with Coach on the other side of the rink.

“You.” Beau smacks me on top of my helmet, pointing toward the bench where Michele and Parker are still sitting. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had the hots for her.”

Fuck. If you only knew. The problem is, I do have the hots and maybe even something a little more tangible for Michele, but the last person I’m going to tell is Beau. He can’t keep a secret to save his fucking soul. The entire team will know before practice is over in an hour. Besides, it’s not like I plan on doing anything about it. She’s made it perfectly clear that she wants to keep our relationship a secret to protect both of our careers. I don’t agree with her logic, but I’ll do anything to make her happy. The best bet right now is to play dumb.

“For who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Cole. Remember, I was your lookout the day you egged Mr. Saunders's car.”

“You were a shitty lookout because we got caught.”

“That’s beside the point.” He snaps back at me. “Do you have the hots for the new physio, Michele?”

“And what if I do? Like we determined earlier, there's no rule against dating team employees, is there?” I ask, knowing there isn’t.

I read the entire player handbook, cover to cover, and found nothing. It's true that the team has never had a female employee who worked so closely with the team before, but it doesn’t matter. No rule means it’s not strictly forbidden. Potentially looked down upon by management, but not forbidden. I can work with that. No, no, I can’t. I’m supposed to be convincing myself to stay away from Michele, not finding loopholes.

“If you do, forget it.” Beau pulls off his glove and grips my bad shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze.

I wince slightly, reaching up and smacking his hand away. “What the fuck was that for?”

“I wanted to make sure I had your attention. Stay away from Michele. Nothing good will come of it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Beau opens his mouth to respond just as Coach blows his whistle.

“Circle up!”

The team gathers near the boards, puffing clouds of breath into the cold air. Just as I reach the group, I feel a sharp jab in my side, turning to see Jensen beside me. His eyes are focused on Coach, the muscle in his jaw bulging. “That was a cheap shot, Hendrix.”

Coach is saying something about drills or a play we are going to be running, but I’m only half listening. Making sure Jensen learns his lesson is more important than that. “Possibly, but let’s just hope you learned your lesson.”

“And what lesson might that be?”

“Stay the fuck away from Michele. Don’t look at her. Don’t speak to her. Don’t even breathe in her general direction, or I’ll put my skate up your ass.”

“If you plan on recruiting the new physio to be your new puck bunny,” he jokes, nudging me in the side, “you’re going to have to get used to sharing.”

My gloves and stick hit ice before he can blink, and I sock him right in the jaw. Jensen’s head snaps back, sweat flying off his face, as he somehow manages to stay on his feet.

“What the fuck!” Cooper screams, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me away from Jensen. “Calm the fuck down, Cole.”

I manage to shake him off and charge forward a second time, clocking Jensen with another hook to the face. Before I can land another blow, Cooper manages to get between us, shoving me hard in the chest, forcing me toward the bench.

“Break it up. I already had to save one brother’s ass over a girl. I didn’t think I’d have to do it again so soon.” Beau groans as I skate around him and tackle Jensen to the ice.

My knees rest on either side of his waist, letting my fist fly. Blood sprays across my jersey and ice as the muscles in my arms burn, but I don’t stop. I warned him about what would happen if he kept running his mouth, and now he has to pay.

Jensen’s face is beyond fucked-up and covered in blood. I can see his right eye swelling shut, blood pouring down his jersey and dripping onto the ice. His lip is busted open in multiple places, but it's still not enough.

“Break it up!” Beau shouts, grabbing me by the back of my jersey and pulling me off Jensen.

“Hendrix. My office. Now.”

“Yes, Coach,” all three of us respond before Coach swears loudly. “Cooper, take your hotheaded brother to my office. Beau and Benson, help the dumbass off the ice and get him to the training room. Michele can patch him up.”

Just the mention of Jensen being anywhere near Michele has me lunging forward. “Stay the fuck away from her, Jensen!” I scream, lunging for him a second time. Beau barely manages to hold me back.

“Shut the fuck up before you make matters worse for yourself.”

“I don’t give a fuck. He needs to learn to stop running his fucking mouth,” I growl into Beau’s face, wrestling from his grasp.

Beau raises his hands in surrender, a bright smile spreading across his face. “Hey, he was disrespecting your girl. I get it. You did what had to be done.”

“She isn't my?—”

“Sure, she isn’t.” Beau lets out a barking laugh before shoving me toward the entrance to the locker room. “Hit the showers and cool off. Cooper and I will do damage control with Coach.”

The gravity of what I’ve done hits me like a freight train. Coach hasn’t tried to hide his disdain for me even being allowed to step on the ice with his precious team. At first, I believed it was just anger because I was from a rival team and was forced on him by management, but he’s been watching me like a hawk. It’s like he’s just been looking for an excuse to kick me off the team, and I just gave him one on a silver platter. Fuck.

“You think he’ll kick me off the team?”

Beau shakes his head before turning around to inspect the damage, wincing as he sees Jensen laid out on the ice “On a scale of one to completely fucked?”

“Pretty much.” I shrug my shoulders, wanting him to give it to me straight.

“I’d say you just so happen to be only mostly fucked. There’s a big difference between completely fucked and mostly fucked. Mostly fucked means you won’t be kicked off the team.”

“Whatever you say, Miracle Max.” I chuckle as everything aches. My hands, arms, and shoulders. The adrenaline is slowly leaving my system.

“You remembered!”

“Of course. Alise made us watch that movie almost every day during the summer before I joined the Wolverines. I couldn’t forget that movie if I tried.”

“Don’t stress too much, little brother.” Beau slaps me on the back, right on top of my bad shoulder, causing me to hiss in pain. “Sorry, but seriously. Cooper and I will smooth things over, but you’re definitely gonna get your ass chewed out for sure.”

“Let’s go, dumbass.” Cooper skates past me, not even sparing me a glance as he disappears into the locker room entrance.

“Have fun with that.” Beau motions after Cooper with his chin before turning and heading toward the other players crowded around Jensen’s lying out on the ice.

I follow Cooper down the tunnel to the locker room, not even bothering to grab my blade covers from the bench. He pushes through the door and immediately yanks his helmet off his head and throws it across the room.

I take a seat on the closest bench, my forearms resting on my knees as he paces back and forth. I could say something to calm him down, to apologize for what I’ve done, but that would be a complete lie. I don’t regret knocking Jensen the fuck out. I’d do it again if given the chance. However, what I do regret is causing a ruckus in the middle of practice.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Cole?”

“I need you to be a little more specific. The list is getting longer every day.” I scoff, pushing to my feet and pulling my jersey over my head and tossing it into the bin. “Let’s get the lecture over with so I can go get my ass-chewing from the coach and go home. My shoulder is killing me.”

“Can you take this fucking seriously, please? Stop acting like…”

“A child?”

“A fucking asshole.” Cooper sighs, leaning against the locker beside him and crossing his arms. “Do you want to throw away the chance you’ve been given? Coach is just itching to find a reason to get rid of you, Cole. He has been against you being on the team from the start, and now you’ve given him exactly what he’s been looking for.”

“Yes, I know. I’m so sorry to damage your precious image,” I scoff, grabbing a fresh towel from the stack beside the lockers and running it across my body. “Just like old times, right, Coop? You having to clean up after your fuck-up brother.”

“I never called you a fuck-up, Cole.” Cooper shakes his head, dropping onto the bench across from me. “My image has nothing to do with any of this. Don’t you understand all the sacrifices I’ve made to get this opportunity for you?”

“I didn’t ask to be here. I didn’t ask to be traded. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“You should have.”

“Excuse me?”

Cooper is the last person on the planet I would ask anything from, let alone help save my hockey career. The Wolverines have been looking for an excuse to get rid of me for years, and rightfully so. I fucked up and cost them a chance at the Stanley Cup because of my actions. I did everything and anything they asked of me to make amends, but it was never enough. Although, in hindsight, the only reason they wanted me in the first place was because of my last name.

“You should’ve asked. You should’ve told me and Beau what was going on with you in Boise. I shouldn’t have had to hear about it from Remy.”

“If I had my way, you wouldn’t have heard about it at all.”

“That’s not the point, Cole.” Cooper pushes to his feet and starts pacing again.

“Then what is the point, Cooper? Did you just want another chance to control my life? To have your little brother under your thumb to control? Isn’t having Beau as your lapdog enough?”

“Cole, I?—”

“No. Shut the fuck up, Cooper. I’ve racked my brain trying to figure out why you wanted me here. Why did you suddenly give a shit about what was going on with me?” I shove him hard in the chest, causing him to stumble. “I’m not the same scrawny kid that you ran out of our childhood home because I wouldn’t bend to your will. I wouldn’t do it then, and I won't do it now.”

This is not the place to be airing all our dirty laundry, but I can’t seem to stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. All the thoughts and feelings that I’ve kept locked up tight come exploding out of my mouth, and I’m helpless to stop them.

“Did you ever take two seconds to think why I went to Boise in the first place? Why I chose a rival team and went to the Wolverines?”

“Because you hated me?”

“Partially, but mostly it was because I wanted to be my own person. I didn’t want to be in your goddamn shadow. Always being compared to you and Beau. This trade isn’t some gift from the gods for me. It’s my goddamn nightmare.”

“No one is trying to put you into my shadow, Cole. Stop being so dramatic. Yes, we play the same position, but that’s it.”

I scoff, knowing that there’s no way he’s ever going to understand what it’s like not to be the one in the spotlight. “Listen to yourself, Cooper. I came here to tour the facility and chat with management about joining the team because it was my best option for a chance at the Cup. I knew that. I hated it, but I knew it. They didn’t want to give me a chance until after you asked them to. The fucking team golden boy.

“I’ve been busting my ass for years to be seen . To be more than ‘Cooper and Beau Hendrix’s little brother.’ I earned my spot in this league, earned every minute on the ice. But none of that mattered because all they wanted was you. Every coach, every reporter, every teammate compares me to you. Again. Like nothing I’ve done matters.”

“I never asked to be your goddamn mirror! Maybe if you stopped blaming me for your insecurities, you'd see I was never your enemy! Everything I’ve done for your entire life was for our family. ”

“Oh, there he is ! There’s the big brother I remember—always right, always better, always looking down his damn nose at me!” I scream, throwing the towel into his face. “Did I fucking ask you to sacrifice a goddamn thing?”

“I never said that you did, but I’m your older brother. It’s my job to take care of you.”

“And whose fault is that?” Cooper flinches as if I slapped him across the face, but I don’t give a shit. “You took him away from us, Cooper. It was you. We wouldn’t have even been on that fucking mountain if it weren’t for you.”

All the memories from that day come flooding back, running through my mind in perfect clarity. I can feel myself spiraling out of control. I’m drowning in my feelings. The anger, regret, sorrow. I want to claw at my chest, feeling as if I’m suffocating and choking on them.

I scramble to my bag tucked in the bottom of my locker, searching for relief from the pain. My escape from these thoughts and emotions that are threatening to pull me under. A part of me wants to give in, but another part of me knows that once I go under, I may never come up. Thankfully, I find the bottle and shake a few pills into my hand. Without a second thought, I throw them into my mouth and swallow.

Numb. I want to be numb. I need to be numb.

“Cole.” His voice croaks, his head dropping into his hands. “It was an accident.”

I need to get away from Cooper, out of this locker room, before I do something crazy. To escape the pain, the soul-crushing sorrow that I’ve never truly been able to get rid of. My hands itch with the need to wrap my hands around Cooper’s neck and squeeze. Watch the life drain from his eyes as he’s punished for what he did. He took him away from me. The only one who cares. The only one who gave a shit about me.

No. No. I don’t want him to die. I want him to pay. Pay for what he did to me. To Dad.

“I don’t care, Cooper. Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.” I feel like I’m vibrating out of my skin. The need to get away from this conversation and Cooper is high on my list of priorities. “If we’re done here, I’m gonna shower before Coach comes to have our chat.”

“No, you need to hear this, Cole.” Cooper shoots to his feet, his hand gripping my elbow and pulling me to a stop. “Now it all makes sense. That’s why you left, isn't it? That’s why you’ve been so angry at me and everyone in our family.”

“Yes. You all lied to me.”

“No one lied, Cole. Dad died from a heart attack.”

“I heard you. I fucking heard you, Cooper. You told them you killed him.” I throw the water bottle in my hand across the room. It hits the wall with a thud, water spraying everywhere.

My chest heaves as I remember that day in vivid clarity. Through the years, everyone said it was a freak accident, could have happened to anyone, but I had no idea what really happened until that night.

“I didn’t kill Dad. I know that now in my soul, but only recently. I used to blame myself for his death. I knew there was something off about him before we left that day. It was my birthday, and my word was law. All I had to do was speak up and say that I wanted to stay home. That I wanted to go to a Timberwolves game and have Momma make my favorites for dinner. Anything that stopped us from going up that trail, because if we had just stayed at home, Dad would still be here.”

Cole grips my face between his hands, forcing me to look at him. I want to shut my eyes, block out everything around me as I wait for the pills to take effect. To bring me the numbness I so desperately need right now.

“I know what you’re doing right now. You want to run away and hide from all of this bullshit. Begging for all these emotions to be shoved back into the box you’ve kept them locked in all these years, but it won’t help. It’s only a Band-Aid. The box will explode open again, and maybe next time, you won’t be able to bring yourself back.”

“Fuck you, Cooper.” I turn and bend down, snatching my duffle off the floor. “Tell Coach he can kick me off the team, fine me, ream me the fuck out, or whatever the fuck else he wants. But he can do it later. I need to get the fuck out of here.”

It doesn’t matter whether Cooper physically pushed Dad off the side of the mountain or if he really had a heart attack, because I’ll never forgive him.