Page 9

Let’s make sure he doesn’t screw up

Remy

“So who was the woman who saved your ass?” Hanny asked, checking the rearview mirror as we drove away from the estate that was my temporary home.

I looked back but couldn’t see Sophie and the dog. “That’s my landlord’s sister, Sophie Williams.”

“Nice of her to help you out. Who’s her brother that he can afford that place?”

I pushed thoughts of Beast and Sophie to the back of my mind. I had to concentrate on hockey now. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

Hanny shot me a glance before looking back to the road. “You didn’t ask?”

I rubbed a hand over my newly smooth jaw. “Didn’t really get the chance. The animal delivery people had dropped Beast off and then I found out she’s Otts’s ex and I didn’t think of it.”

The Porsche swerved for a moment before Hanny brought it back into line. “She’s Otts’s ex?”

I nodded. “They were married for three years.”

Hanny shot me a glance out of wide eyes. “And you’re living in the same place?”

“Maybe? I don’t actually know where she lives, but she works on the main floor of the place I’m living in.”

“Does he know?”

That was the million-dollar question. Sophie didn’t think he did, but realistically, her brother was friends with Otts.

The team had called in a favor, her brother had agreed, so Otts had to know.

After arguing about it in my head last night, this was what I’d decided.

“He must, since the team set it up, right?”

Hanny paused to turn. “I hope so. He’s never liked you, so it seems weird that he’d be on board.”

“We were competitors, but it was only hockey. We never had any issues off the ice.”

“Sure of that?”

“Yeah.” World Juniors had been more than a decade ago.

We’d never been on the same team, never played a playoff round against each other.

There’d been a lot of press back then, with the draft, the Calder Cup.

But after my injury, I was never in his league.

I’d have happily traded those victories for the success he had.

If Otts hadn’t been injured, he’d have won another Cup or two, and definitely the Vezina.

He’d been good, like I had been before my injury.

“I’m here, aren’t I? He had to be involved in that. ”

“Good point.”

The arena was just ahead, so it was time to focus on hockey, not my dog or the woman taking care of him. I’d like it if my former rival could also be shoved out of my mind, but that wasn’t an option.

Things were still tense in the locker room, more than twice the number of guys who’d normally be there all warming up, dressing, talking, chirping…

the familiar backdrop of my days. But the competition for a limited number of spots was apparent by how crowded the room was.

The equipment guys had been busy, and we all had practice jerseys with our names on them.

There were temporary names taped on some of the stalls.

I was sure they’d be thrilled when the numbers were cut down, resulting in less work for them.

I didn’t rush, so by the time I was kitted up and heading to the ice, most of the men here for training camp were already there. Chaos, with so many bodies on the ice.

I took a long breath, inhaling ice and cold and the tang of skates on the frozen surface.

I had another year of this, hockey. By now I’d spent more of my life in the routine of the game than I had outside of it.

I needed to take this opportunity and play well enough to get another contract. That was my only focus.

The goalies had congregated around Otts in one corner, so I skated to join them. I pasted on the best smile I could and stopped beside the others. I up-nodded at the group, all of us with our helmets tucked under our arms since they were a bitch to put on and take off.

Otts gave a nice talk about how this camp was to see who would be playing for the team for this season, everything was open, and if someone went to the farm team, they might still be called up. And to use camp as a learning experience.

I exchanged glances with Keats. I had a one-way contract and I assumed he did too, so it was unlikely we were getting sent down, since we’d be paid NHL salary if that happened. Still, Otts was pumping up the young guys. Seemed to be a theme for the coaches.

Training camp continued. Nothing much of interest happened.

The goalies stayed in their group, taking turns in net and blocking shots while Otts watched and made comments.

The only thing that broke up a chaotic but kind of boring first day was when Ethan Harrison checked Stryker Bell, a rookie forward, into the boards.

Coach was pissed, and Ethan would get an earful when practice was over.

There had to be something behind that, more than a rookie showing off too much.

Coach brought us all in for a speech. He told everyone they’d done good work and released everyone but Ethan, who followed him off the ice. I took a moment, while sitting on the ice, to stretch out some of the muscles that hadn’t been used for a while. As I got to my feet, Otts stopped beside me.

“Got a minute?”

“Sure.” Like I was going to say no to my coach. Was he going to talk about the apartment, and his ex?

“I wanted to give you some background, without the other guys around.”

I nodded. Sounded like it was about Sophie.

Otts glanced around, making sure no one was close to us. “Laplante had a standout rookie camp. Kid’s got a lot of potential. But he’s young and has impulse issues.”

“Impulse issues?” I had to pivot my mind-set from the guitar woman to my potential teammate. There hadn’t been much chance to read him during the practice we’d had.

“Flies off the handle. Mood swings. Runs hot and cold. Mostly because he’s young, but management thinks he can become the goalie of his generation if he calms down.”

That explained why he’d been the first goalie selected in the draft, and why this team had taken a chance on him, but… “How bad are these ‘impulse issues’?”

He shrugged.

“That bad?”

“Not enough to keep the team from drafting him, but they planned on a couple of years on the farm team to help him settle down. But now Pahlsson’s retired because his daughter is sick and he wants to go back to Sweden.

” Like Hanny had told me. “So management decided to speed up Lappy’s career projection. ”

“What do you think?”

He shook his head. “We goalies are a lot different from the skaters. Rushing a young player can really hurt them. For Lappy, maybe knowing the team has confidence in him might help him calm down. I hope so. Sometimes he seems like he can do it, but…”

It sounded like Otts had been working with the kid since rookie camp. “Did you tell them that?”

“It’s my first season as the Aces goalie coach. I don’t have a lot of say, and they don’t listen to me much yet. I suggested we should bring in someone who can help him out, calm him down.”

Pieces were beginning to fall into place, and I didn’t like the picture that was forming. “Am I that someone?”

He shot me a look. “I didn’t ask for them to sign you, no. We’ve got history, and I sure as fuck didn’t want you involved in something that could blow up my career. But you’re here, and I’ll use you.”

Great. Not only did Otts and I have history from our playing days, but he didn’t want me here now.

“I’d never sabotage anyone’s career.” I wouldn’t and I didn’t understand his continuing beef with me now that we weren’t both playing. He shrugged, looked ready to leave now that he’d dropped his bombshell. “So what’s the plan? What about Keats?”

“He’s playing.”

I lifted a brow.

“We’re doing a three-goalie tandem.”

What the everlasting fuck? Having extra goalies in training camp was normal, for the coaches to evaluate before sending them to the farm team or school or whatever till they were ready.

But normally only two goalies were on the final roster.

“So we don’t have a starter and a backup, but three of us. ”

He nodded.

“What about that speech you gave, that anyone can make it?”

“It’s motivation. I’m not saying things can’t change, but it would take something major for that to happen.”

“So I’m only here to babysit the guy? Not to be the team backup?”

“I didn’t ask for you, and I would have said no if I could. But they have a point. You work hard, you’re reliable, and you’re the least superstitious player I know. Which frankly is fucking weird for a goalie.”

I used to be as superstitious as anyone. But after my injury I’d learned the superstitions didn’t do fuck all, so I let them go.

“And, you were available.”

I flinched. “Am I going to play at all?”

He nodded. “Anything can happen. We want you ready to go if needed, so we’ll be sharing starts among the three of you.”

“And if the kid screws up, is it my neck or yours?”

Otts shrugged again. “Let’s make sure he doesn’t screw up.”

He skated away without saying good-bye while I digested the information he’d given me.

On the bright side, I was making the team and I’d get to play.

On the dark side, I was here to mentor the goalie they really wanted, and I wouldn’t be playing much.

How the hell was I going to get a contract for next year if I rarely played?

What would teams say behind the scenes about the goalie situation here?

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It might have been better to wait for a midseason call-up from a team that needed help after an injury.

For one sweet moment I pictured telling them all to fuck off and quitting.

Say I was retiring and not dealing with any of this shit.

Laplante, Otts, Sophie. But once I did that, what was I going to do?

I didn’t own any property beyond the cottage.

I had money so I could buy another place, but where?

I sighed and headed for the gate, last one on the ice now. I’d stay, because if it was a choice between hockey and anything else, I always picked hockey.

The locker room had mostly cleared out by now. I showered and found Hanny waiting for me when I came out.

“Remy! Let’s grab some lunch and catch up?”

“Sure.”

I didn’t want to be on my own, dwelling on the cock-up of my career. There was a dark, angry buzz under my skin. And maybe with some time for the news to settle I’d be in a better place to consider what would be the smart thing to do.

We’d just gotten to Hanny’s car when I found a message from Elsa on the team phone. As part of the welcome information I’d received, she’d asked if I needed any help and I’d said I was looking for a vehicle to lease.

She’d come through. A local dealership had offered a truck at a competitive rate, and if I headed over there now, I could have a vehicle within the hour.

“If I pay for lunch, would you take me to this place?” I showed Hanny the name of the dealership.

“Ooh, new truck? Sure, sounds like fun.”

It didn’t take long. The salesman was more excited about seeing Hanny than me, but he put through the paperwork and I had wheels.

Hanny caught me up on what had been going on with him since we’d played together. He’d been on a toxic team before signing here, facing a lot of flack in the locker room because he wasn’t white. With a superstar rookie, Bell, who was out and proud, the Aces seemed to be a more welcoming group.

I was in a better state of mind by the time I drove myself home to relieve Sophie and see how much trouble Beast had caused.