Page 7

seven

Blade

"M cKnight! Get your head in the game." Coach Wynn shouts in the team locker room at the end of the second period of our game against the Chicago Kraken. "That goes for the two of you to." Coach Wynn swings her gaze to Ivan and Atlas, both of them just as distracted as I am after seen Briella again after a year.

Did I really think I could just forget about her and move on with my life?

She proved me wrong when I saw her at the practice center yesterday. I can't stop thinking about her. And now it's affecting our game.

"Sorry coach." We mumble.

We're no longer the team rookies. We have to get our shit together if we want an extension on our contracts. At least according to my dad.

"We have one period left to beat these guys. I need everyone's head in the game. We're only two games out of first place—we need a win against the Kraken to move up in the standing. So, either get your head in the game or I'll take your ass off the ice." Coach Wynn walks out of the locker room leaving our team to decide our fate.

Whoever thought having a female coach would be too soft on the team, never met Coach Wynn.

"She's right." I turn my attention to Atlas and Ivan only to find them watching a video on Ivan's phone.

I don't have to look at the screen to know they're watching a video of Briella from the world championships from two years ago. She placed just outside of the top five, but she looked like first place to us.

We've watched that video hundreds, maybe even thousands of times since we found out who she was. Torturing ourselves by watching her graceful body glide across the ice and spin into the air. Reminding us daily what we gave up all in the name of hockey.

"God she's beautiful." Ivan runs his finger over the screen, following Briella's every move. "What are we going to do with her being back in our lives?"

"She's the one that left us. Not even saying goodbye." I remind them.

"But that was after we cowardly let her bitch of a mother tear her to pieces."

Atlas isn't wrong, we did act like cowards, not sticking up the woman we wanted to spend the rest of our lives with, while her mother belittled her in front of us. "I know." I drop my head into my hands.

We've spent a year without Briella, thanks to my dad suggesting we need to improve our image, since our potential sponsors were concerned about our lives both on and off the ice. Sharing a girlfriend or even a wife wouldn't look good, and the sponsorships would dry up.

I've had my doubts about my father and his intentions with my pro career. It seems like the more and more sponsors we get the more money he makes but our share stays the same.

The private investigator I hired to expose my father's shady dealings dropped off some very incriminating evidence last week. I've yet to show Ivan and Atlas. But when I do, we'd all better be ready for the fall out.

"Times up guys." The assistant coach yells from the doorway.

Reluctantly, Ivan turns off the video of Briella and puts his phone in his locker.

In the end, Coach Wynn ended up benching the three of us for the rest of the game. I don't blame her. We played like shit costing our team the win.

The only thing left was to face the wrath of my father in our after-game meeting.

Atlas, Ivan, and I take our time showering. None of us ready to face my father our agent.

Usually, we meet with him in one of the extra offices at the arena but today he's demanded that we meet him at his office downtown.

"Let's get this over with." I sigh as we walk into my dad's office building.