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Thierry

I nodded. “Understood, Coach.”

Alexander motioned me to follow him. “Come on, I’ll show you to your office, then I’ll take you to the practice rink. You can meet the team out there. I’m sure they’ll be excited to see you.”

“I hope so,” I replied. “But I’m not holding my breath. These guys are competitors. They see me, even as a coach, as their competition. I see that as a win. The fire in their belly is burning for a win and, like you said, they’re hungry.”

We walked the short distance to the business side of the facility where all the offices and front-end business took place.

For being an AHL team, the complex was enormous.

They had a small concession area. Offices above the game rink and two small apparel stores on opposite ends of the building.

They also had a meet and greet area and a place outside to have lunch with the players.

Not to mention the small office near the practice rink that was used to sign kids up within the community to play hockey for the youth division.

Their mascot was a Mountainette which was a forest creature of sorts.

Cute, catchy, and inviting. Hell, if I had never played a professional game, but had been given the chance to, I’d come here first.

When we arrived at my office next to Alexander’s, the one thing that stood out was how bare it was.

Sure, there were group photos of the team and the mascot.

The President of the organization, along with the board of directors and each of the management staff and doctors.

The team included everyone, which was nice in a high dollar, high stakes game.

Still, the office lacked personality. The bookshelves to the right of the window overlooking the ice had rule manuals and one half-dead potted plant. Momma was the green thumb, not me.

“It’s not much to look at now,” he said. “Do what you want. Add photos of the family. Friends. Trophies. Make this place yours. You’re going to be here for a while.”

“Thanks,” I answered. His reassurance bolstered my courage. “I think I will.”

Twenty minutes later, I was at the bench for the first time in six months, standing with my new team. Exhilaration burst in my chest. It felt like the first time I laced up a pair of skates and got out there, minus the part where I fell on my ass a few hundred times. Or ripped my knee to shreds.

Coach Drake introduced me to the guys, most of whom appeared to be in their early twenties.

I could pick out the older members I’d played against at some point in our careers, and then there were two who didn’t even appear old enough to be out on the ice with us.

Although I couldn’t say much, the US Men’s national team recruited me while I was still in high school.

When we broke apart, one of the younger guys hung back and had a shit-eating grin on his face when extended his hand.

“When they said Thierry Thomas was coming to our team and was going to be our defensive coach, I told everyone they were full of shit.” His voice cracked, filled with excited-disbelief, tickling me. “Holy shit you’re really him.”

I shook his hand. “I am. You are?” I tilted my head curious about my teammates since I’d be their coach for however long they’d stay in the AHL.

“Christopher Murphy. My dad owns the machine shop on Baker St.” He shook my hand. “He is going to piss kittens when he hears about this.”

I laughed. “Sounds painful.”

He continued to snicker as he stared at me, his eyes twinkling in admiration and awe, before pointing at each of my defenders on the ice a few feet from where I stood. “That’s Richard “Tow” Sharpe. His nickname is Tow on account when he was little his hair was white as snow.”

The kid skated forward. His eyes kept averting mine. His cheeks were bright pink. I hoped to hell he lost the shyness once he was on the ice, or else what was the point of being with the team? “Nice to meet you, Richard.”

“Pleasure, sir,” he murmured before joining the others waiting.

“Kodiak is our goalie. His real name is Pavel Barbu.” Christopher leaned against the boards as he introduced everyone.

Barbu... I knew that name. Where had I?—

“Well, if it isn’t my rival’s right-hand man.

” The large bear-like man pushed through the line of players and stopped in front of me.

The brutish man ripped off his mask, and I came face to face with a grizzly I wouldn’t want to tango with in a forest. His rich accent had a memory cracking through the fog of games I’d played over the years.

“I see someone finally cut you down to size, old man.”

“Pleac?!” I snapped then hugged the big guy as the pieces came together. “It’s good to see you again, old friend.”

Pavel and I had played several international games together over the years and during the Olympics.

Shared a few rounds of beers, too. Eventually I met his family and his beautiful wife.

The last time I’d heard anything about them, she was pregnant with their first child.

He was also on his way to doing great things in Romania.

Having him as a goalie made our defense ten times better than any team in the league.

“Rosemary will be excited to know you’re here and in one-piece, old friend,” Pavel said. “It’s good to have you at my back instead of on the opposite side of the ice.”

“I can’t wait to see her. It’s been too long.”

Turned out, I knew a few more of the guys on the team.

I’d seen them in a few of the sixteen and under camps the Thunderbirds put on over the years, and they were slowly working their way to the top of the league.

Others side-eyed me. That was okay. They saw a thirty-five-year-old, thirteen-year veteran, honing-in on their turf.

Not a coach determined to take them to a championship.

I didn’t blame them.

When the coach blew the whistle, I gathered the guys up at the boards.

Until I was cleared to put on a pair of skates, even stand in the rink wearing shoes, I had to stay on the concrete.

Sucked, because all I wanted to do was throw on a pair of skates and glide around the arena like old times.

Being box bound, really cramped my style.

“Alright, bring it in,” I said. “I know I’m not what you were expecting.

I also know I rub some of you the wrong way, especially if we’ve gone up against each other in the past. However, I am here to help you.

I’m going to do everything in my power to make you the team you want to be.

This won’t be easy. It won’t be fun for any of us either.

Because, let’s face it, given the choice of being on this side of the boards or on the ice?

I’d rather be in a pair of skates, eating up the ice.

Being a defender is in my blood. I eat, sleep, and dream of being a right defender again.

Regrettably, I’ll never have that opportunity again. So, I have one question for all of you. Will you pick up the mantle I’ve been forced to put down and help carry your team to their first championship?”

The defensemen looked at each other while Barbu grinned and nodded.

A fire burned in his gaze; one I knew reflected in mine.

I already knew what he needed to have a good game.

Now it was implementing those changes and making sure the defenders the Mountaineers chose for their team did their jobs correctly.

“Yeah,” Christopher said, a little cockier than I anticipated. “That’s what we’re here for.”

I smirked. “Then show me what you’ve got.”

Of everything I learned on my first day back, being a coach was almost like being a player on the ice, only I told them what plays to run, and they executed them. Sometimes it worked and other times, I wondered how long the guys had skated together. That’s when an epiphany hit me in the chest.

I needed to be here.

I had to get my confidence back, just as much as they needed to trust their teammates.

They too had to have faith in their instincts and ignore the tiny voices in their head telling them to do the opposite.

The only people on the ice who had their backs was their teammates.

Once they figured that part out, they came together like a squad should.

From then on, I’d see their true grit, determination, and their potential.

I got excited.

After practice was over, I went back to my office.

I wanted to read up on the players. Wanted to see their strengths and weaknesses so I could pair them up accordingly for their next game.

As it was, I came to the team almost six weeks into the regular season, which meant I lost critical time with them.

I had to catch them up to the other teams in the league.

“Thomas,” Alexander said, coming up to me.

“You did good out there. Thursday is a home game. I know it’s early, but I’d like the game to be your home introduction.

We won’t do anything fancy, just bring you in, have you wave to the crowd, give your status.

Simple stuff. You’ll be on the bench with me, and we’ll see how things go. ”

I exhaled. My biggest goal since waking up in recovery with Dr. Jay by my side was this, getting back to the ice. Elation filled me as I nodded. “Yes. I’d like that very much. They’re an elite group of guys. I think we’re going to have fun the rest of the season.”

Alexander chuckled, shoving his hand into his pocket.

“You know what? I think you’re right.” He lifted his chin to the laptop in front of me.

The same one I’d been about to open before he stepped into my office—fuck, that was crazy to say.

“All the defense’s stats are in there. So are their professional files and medical records.

Take it home with you, so you can study up on your men. ”

“Will do,” I replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Nine am, sharp,” he answered before exiting the room.

Once I was out of the facility, I called Lily-Mae and asked her if she wanted to bring the kids and Rick to a game. Her squeal of happiness made the whole coming home thing worth it.

She was my best friend and my biggest fan.

“I’ll leave you five tickets at the box office in my name,” I said, stopping in front of my truck.

“Can’t believe we get to see you so soon,” she said. “We’re so glad you’re finally home, Thierry. We’ll talk to you soon.”

“See you Thursday night,” I replied, then ended the call as the kids started cheering. Seemed I missed them more than I realized.

“Hey Thierry,” Christopher said, coming up beside me as I walked to my truck. “We’re going to grab some dinner. You wanna join?”

“Are you sure you want to be seen hanging out with an old man?” I teased, placing the laptop and a few of the binders on my backseat. “Hate to ruin your reps.”

The kid snorted. “We’re hitting up Flame. We know a guy. He can get us good seats.”

“Mack?” I tilted my head.

Richard shook his head. “Jackson. He’s the sous chef.”

“Mack’s brother-in-law?” I hadn’t met them yet. Every time it seemed someone threw a get-together, I was either training or on the road. I’d only heard through the gossip channels Mack had gotten married to a woman named Ireland, and she had three brothers, Hunter, Landon, and Jackson.

“You know the guy? The owner?” Christopher’s eyes got round. “Personally?”

Perks of being friends with Wes for so long.

I met Mack years ago. He was buying and selling luxury cars and had built a nice little empire for himself.

Then he came up with Flame. Opening night, I was there to celebrate.

The place was nice. The bar always kept the best alcohol on hand, and the staff was excellent as well. “Yes?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” Christopher said, narrowing his eyes, like I was fucking with him or worse.

“Yes, I do. I know lots of people, kid. Perks of being in the NHL for years. Kind of comes with the territory.” I shoved my hands into my pockets, cringing a little because I’d thrown around my status. I hated players who did that shit—name dropped and acted better than everyone else.

Arrogance at its finest. But that was my opinion.

“I bet you tell the best stories,” Christopher said. “Anyway, you down? Want to eat food with us?”

“Sure,” I replied. “Why not. Who all is coming?”

“Me and Richard. Some of the guys give us a wide berth because of our ages. I’m eighteen and Richard is nineteen.

We go to school at the community college because we can’t play here and for U of T.

If we wanted to do that, we’d have to continue in a junior league and that ain’t happening. ” He shrugged.

“I understand. I played for Tennessee and played for Team USA because of those by-laws. But it was worth it. Seeing as you’re both here, and you have a plan, that’s what works for you.” I lifted my chin to my truck, “who am I following?”

“Me. I drove us here,” Christopher said. “See you there?”

“I’ll be right behind you.”