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I hear murmuring assents and that gives me the courage to go on.

“I need to let you all in on something that happened to me years ago. And it’s the reason why I keep my distance from everyone.

I’m telling you not to offer an excuse, but possibly to have a chance to change things. To be a better teammate.”

“Whatever it is,” Atlas says from my left, “we’ve got your back.” He turns around and asks the crowd. “Am I right?”

More affirmations but louder this time and it bolsters me.

“Some of you may have seen the article that came out yesterday about a hazing incident that happened years ago on the Minnesota Wraiths. It’s no secret that I played there and if you haven’t put two and two together, it occurred at the time I was on that team.”

I see some nodding, while others look like they’re in the dark.

“The article yesterday came out because one of the witnesses to the hazing—which ended in a player’s death—outed herself.

Her name is Mila Brennan, and she decided to go public about her role in helping the police secure convictions because she’s been getting violent threats lately.

She did it to protect herself. And if you read the article, you know there was another witness who she didn’t name. That person was me.”

Gasps of shock and some curses rebound through the room. I launch into the story, traveling back in time and starting from the beginning. I tell them every sordid detail and conclude with Mila and I being the ones to turn in my teammates.

“Our names were protected. Although we did the right thing and I have no regrets, there were repercussions. While our names were protected from the press, the other players knew it was me and Mila. Most of my teammates turned on me, as did the hockey community, since two of the players went to prison and two lost their careers. Mila has had it even worse because one of those players who went to jail was her brother, Peter. Her parents disowned her after that and she’s been estranged from them since. ”

More curses, louder and vengeful sounding. These guys don’t know Mila, but they’re all ready to ride into battle for her.

“I can’t apologize for the way it made me, but I hope you can understand that it destroyed my belief in the camaraderie and trust of teammates.

It’s why I’ve never let myself get close to anyone.

Why I focus on the game and nothing else.

I can’t promise that I’ll miraculously become everyone’s best friend, but what I am willing to do is give the benefit of the doubt.

To assume I can trust you all and that you’ve got my back, just as I believe I’ll have yours. ”

“You fucking got it,” someone calls out and I can’t locate who it came from.

Doesn’t matter. North says, “We’ve got you. And Mila.”

“To new beginnings,” Foster says.

And on and on it goes. I hop down off the bench, each player coming up to clap me on the shoulder, shake my hand, pat me on the head.

Tiny words of support, promises to be there for me, and it’s entirely fucking overwhelming.

It gets so oppressive that I think I might have made a mistake, but then it’s over.

Everyone’s back at their cubbies, getting ready for the game. The only one left standing before me is King.

The only one who has known the entire story, and I know deep in my bones, he kept his promise and never told a soul.

“You good, man?” he asks.

I know what he’s asking. About Mila. About the article. The chaos. “Yeah,” I admit quietly. “Better, at least. Thanks for having Willa sit with Mila tonight. She appreciates it. I do too.”

He shrugs, genuine affection in his eyes. “She was happy to help. And I’m getting the impression that Mila is now an official part of the Titans family?”

I blink in surprise. That’s a big leap, but why deny it? “We’re… together. I don’t even know what that means. She came to me for help and well, she’s the one I trust the most. It’s complicated, I guess.”

King laughs and squeezes my shoulder. “Doesn’t have to be complicated. Just enjoy the ride.”

“That’s good advice I intend to take, although I don’t know if I’ll be able to fully enjoy it while someone is out there terrorizing Mila.”

“And you,” King adds. He knows the shade that’s been thrown at me.

“Not worried about myself,” I say dismissively. “But Mila… the threats were serious. Like the life-ending type of serious.”

“Fuck,” King mutters. “Have you gone to the police?”

“She has, but they said they can’t protect her against a ghost. They can’t trace the emails and texts.”

King ponders that, rubbing his jaw. “Maybe you should talk to Van.”

“Van?” I ask, glancing around the locker room and tagging our third-line defenseman.

“Yeah, his brother-in-law, Malik, works for a security firm here in Pittsburgh called Jameson Force Security. They’ve got abilities that the police don’t and they can also protect. It would be worth a talk with them.”

That sounds way too appealing. “Yeah… great. I’ll talk to Van after the game.”

King throws his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going to get ready, but for what it’s worth, everyone respects the hell out of you here, including me, especially after you just came clean. That took guts.”

Emotion tightens my throat. “Thanks, man.”

He nods, then shifts slightly, almost awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Hey, uh… Willa and I were thinking about grabbing a quiet beer after the game tonight rather than hanging out with the team. Maybe you and Mila wanna join us? Something low-key.”

Surprise flickers through me. Socializing still isn’t exactly my comfort zone, but the offer feels genuine. Safe. “Yeah. Actually, I’d like that. I think Mila would too.”

King’s smile widens. “Good. That’s good. We’ll plan on it then.”

“Yeah,” I repeat softly, feeling oddly hopeful. “Sounds like a plan.”

He claps my shoulder lightly. “All right, Navarro. Let’s go kick some ass.”

I chuckle, tension easing from my muscles. “You got it, man.”

As I take my stick in hand again, it hits me that somewhere along the way—maybe through Mila, maybe through the unexpected camaraderie of guys like Lucky and King—I’ve started letting people in.

It’s terrifying.

But damn if it doesn’t also feel fucking liberating.