Page 96 of Her Name in Red

“What the fuck, Rhodes!” he screams, scrambling to his feet.

I just smile. “Sorry. Didn't see you there.”

Coach blows his whistle, but I'm already skating away, adrenaline singing through my veins. Two minutes later, I slam my stick into Perkins ankles during a scrimmage, sending him sprawling across the ice.

“Rhodes! That's enough!” Coach bellows from the sidelines.

I ignore him, circling back around. When Perkins tries to steal the puck, I drive my shoulder into his chest so hard I hear the air rush from his lungs. He drops like a stone.

“RHODES! BENCH! NOW!”

Coach's face is purple with rage as I skate over, smirking. The rest of the team gives me a wide berth, like I'm radioactive. Maybe I am.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Coach demands, voice low and dangerous as I drop onto the bench. “You just took out three of your own teammates in less than five minutes.”

I shrug, removing my helmet. “They were in my way.”

“This isn't you.” He stares at me, and for a second, I see concern beneath the anger. “You're not the same, Rhodes.”

The words hit me harder than they should. I stare at the ice, at the scrimmage continuing without me. My teammates cast nervous glances my way. I used to be their golden boy, their captain, their future NHL star.

Now I'm just dangerous.

“I'm done,” I tell him, the words coming out flat. Not angry or sad. Just fact.

Coach blinks, like he's waiting for more, but I've got nothing else to give. I stand up and head for the locker room without looking back.

Under the shower, I let scalding water pound my skin until it's red and raw. My knuckles are bleeding from where I punched a locker. I don't remember doing it.

The door creaks open. Through the steam, I see Coach standing there, arms crossed.

“You want to tell me what's really going on?” he asks.

“Not particularly.”

“Rhodes, throwing away your career isn't going to fix whatever's broken inside you.”

I shut off the water and grab a towel. “Nothing's broken.”

“Bullshit.” He steps closer. “You've always been intense on the ice, but this—this is something else. This is self-destruction.”

I stare at Coach; the towel wrapped loosely around my waist, water still dripping from my hair. Something inside me just gives up the fight.

“My heart's not in it anymore,” I say flatly. “Hockey. All of it.”

Coach's expression shifts from anger to concern. “What are you talking about? This is your life, Rhodes. Your future.”

“Is it?” I laugh without humor. “Because it feels like a fucking prison sentence. The star player. The golden boy. Everyone watching, everyone expecting. I'm so fucking tired of it.”

He studies me, his eyes narrowing. “Is this about that girl? The one they whisper about? Marino, right? You're throwing everything away for her?”

The mention of Maren's name makes something protective flare in my chest, but I shake my head.

“This isn't about her, Coach. It's about me.” I run a hand through my wet hair. “I've been changing who I am to fit what everyone wants for so long I don't even recognize myself anymore. I've been a fucking chameleon my whole life, and I'm exhausted.”

“Rhodes—”

“None of them matter,” I continue, my voice getting louder. “The scouts, the team, the fucking alumni association. No offense, but you don't matter either. Not to the real me. I'm just…done. I need to be done.”