Page 25 of Your Biggest Downfall (Ravens Hockey #3)

austin

I was sitting in the conference room at the top of the arena, a desolate, cold area with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a clear view of the ice rink below.

Stiff, uncomfortable chairs with unforgiving metal frames surrounded the long steel-gray table in front of me.

The walls were bare, except for a few generic motivational posters, adding to the sterile atmosphere.

Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.

The silence was oppressive, amplifying the thoughts racing through my mind.

I glanced down at the ice, its pristine surface almost mocking me, and I realized how badly I had fucked up this time.

The weight of my mistakes pressed down on me, suffocating in this space.

Iris sat on one side of the table, with Coach next to me and Ledger flanking my other side. My agent, Taylor, was seated beside them. We were all waiting for the owner, Bob, to arrive.

The silence was unbearable. No one said a word to me, which made it even worse. I was staring at my future, and these people held it in their hands.

Bob finally walked in and took a seat at the head of the conference table. “Should we begin?”

Iris was the first to speak, and she clicked on the projector where she had laid out an entire PR plan.

“I think it’s important to note that the first thing we do is put out a statement as a team,” Iris began. “We do not condone this behavior, and we are disappointed. But what I’m noticing more is that people are caring about mental health, and addiction is a mental health illness.”

I closed my eyes and tuned her out. Truthfully, I wanted to tell them I was more ashamed of what I’d done to Nova last night than getting caught in a bar, publicly using drugs.

I wanted to tell them that after that photo, I took a girl’s virginity in that bathroom.

It made me sick to even think about it. She deserved to be wined and dined.

She deserved the entire world, not some sordid moment in a dingy bathroom.

“In our statement,” Iris continued, clicking through the slides, “we will emphasize that we are committed to ensuring our players’ mental health is as important as their physical health.

We will offer support and rehabilitation, focusing on their well-being.

This will show our dedication to both our team and the broader issues of mental health awareness and support. ”

Her words felt like a distant echo, overshadowed by the guilt gnawing at me. Nothing could erase the shame of how I had treated Nova.

“We’ve found two local rehab centers, both within a sixty-mile radius of here.

They offer thirty-day programs,” Iris continued, her voice steady and authoritative.

“Our official press statement will read as follows: ‘The organization is deeply disappointed by the recent actions of one of our players.

We do not condone drug use or any behavior that compromises the integrity of our team.

However, we also recognize the importance of mental health and the challenges of addiction.

In light of this, we are committed to supporting our player through this difficult time.

“‘We have arranged for immediate admission to one of two local rehabilitation centers, where a comprehensive thirty-day program will be undertaken.

Our priority is to ensure the health and well-being of our players, both physically and mentally.

We will also be implementing additional mental health resources and support for our entire team to prevent such incidents in the future.

“‘We are committed to the player’s recovery and rehabilitation and aim to have him return to play hockey in the fall season.

To ensure his continued progress and accountability, we will implement mandatory drug testing prior to each game.

This measure will guarantee that he remains on track and upholds the standards expected of our athletes.

“‘We ask for the understanding and patience of our fans and the community as we address this matter. Our goal is to help our player recover and return stronger, while also reinforcing our commitment to maintaining the highest standards of conduct and care within our organization.’”

Iris paused, looking around the room. “This statement will be released to the press following our meeting. It is essential that we present a united front and show our commitment to both accountability and compassion. Does anyone have any questions or concerns about the statement?”

As silence filled the room, the implication of the words settled over me. “When do I leave?” I asked.

“Immediately following this meeting,” my agent said.

I nodded, closed my eyes, and ran my hands down my face. I hung my head. I’d have to leave Nova without an explanation for what happened. We would never talk about it.

“Can I at least—” I asked, but Coach cut me off.

“No. You’ll turn in all your personal items, including your phone, to Ledger, who will ensure it is safe, and you will leave from here.”

Fuck. Fuck. Nova’s words played in the back of my head. She knew this was what they were going to do. She knew because she was damn good at her job. I would go to rehab for Nova. I would get clean and stop drinking and doing drugs because of Nova.

For Nova.

“It seems I don’t have a choice,” I finally said.

Bob turned to me. “You don’t if you want to play hockey. One more fuckup and you’re done. Your career is fucking over. The only reason we’re granting you this is because you’re our star player, but get yourself settled.” Bob stood, and his chair went flying behind him.

“See you in thirty days, Hart.” He turned to leave.

When the door shut, Coach grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. “You know he doesn’t know about when you were caught last year at the bar.”

I nodded.

“I’m so fucking mad at you, Hart. Fuck this bullshit mental health.”

Iris, who was still in the room packing up her presentation, stood up. “No.” Her tone was cold and commanding, and Coach stopped to look at her.

She had her hands on the edge of the table and was leaning forward. “Addiction is a mental health illness. If Austin had cancer, you wouldn’t be chastising him like this. You will not speak to someone with an illness that way in my presence.”

The entire room fell into stunned silence.

I wasn’t sure I agreed that what I had was an illness equivalent to cancer.

In truth, I didn’t think I had an illness at all.

I liked to drink to escape my fucked-up life, and I only did cocaine once or twice during the summer season.

I didn’t think having a beer in the morning meant I was suddenly an addict.

But I wasn’t about to say shit. I was doing this for Nova.

“I will not tolerate this behavior.” Iris finished packing up and then looked at me. “A car is waiting for you at the back entrance. Please finish up and meet there.”

“What about my clothes?” I asked.

“They will be sent,” Iris said and then opened the door and left.

Coach looked at me and shook his head. He and my agent stood up to leave. “Don’t fuck this up.”

I hung my head in disappointment. My agent was the one person who had believed in me when I was a kid. He helped me get drafted instead of going to college.

After everyone left, it was Ledger and me. I didn’t look at him, just stared at the table in front of me. I ran my hands through my hair and then dropped them to cover my face.

“Does Mom know?” I asked softly.

“Yes.” It was a simple response.

“And?” I pressed for more.

“And she’s sad. Disappointed that she didn’t do more for you. She blames herself.”

“It’s not her fault,” I whispered.

“I know that, but she doesn’t.” Ledger looked right at me, and it hurt. Normally I took whatever he said with a grain of salt, but his disappointment was palpable. “Listen, Austin. I love you. I love your mom. I love Evie. Equally.”

I was waiting for the but. There was always a but. “And?”

“And nothing. It’s simple. I love all three of you, and I want the best for you, but sometimes wanting the best for someone means keeping a boundary.” He gave me a pat on the back.

I lifted my head to try and understand what he was saying. It was the first time Ledger told me he loved me. I didn’t expect him to. I was eighteen when he got married to my mom. He didn’t have to love me. He chose to.

“I need you to understand, though, that I have to protect your mother and Evie. I can’t have your mom up all night crying and then staying up all day with Evie while I’m at work. She’s sick to her stomach over what happened, and I can’t have her blaming herself.”

“It wasn’t my intention?—”

Ledger held up a hand. “I know it wasn’t your intention, but you can’t be around us while you’re high. You can’t be around us while you’re partying. We cannot be associated with this lifestyle.”

I scoffed. “So you’re cutting me off?”

“No.”

“I don’t get it then,” I said.

“I’m telling you that I love you—your mother loves you—but we do not and cannot allow this behavior in our house. You need to go to rehab and get better.”

I shook my head as I got up and headed toward the door. “I’m not a fucking addict, Ledger. I heard stories about your past. I know you used to party?—”

Ledger stood up so quickly his metal chair flew out behind him.

“Enough,” he commanded. His tone was so firm that I stopped dead in my tracks.

“Yes, I partied, but I never did the shit you’ve done.

I had friends who went to sex parties and had a good time, but nothing like what you’re fucking doing. ”

“And what is it exactly that I’m doing?” I barked back.

Ledger Cole didn’t know me. There was a difference between telling me he loved me versus showing me he loved me. He didn’t. He was pushing me away.

“You’re an addict, Austin. This isn’t the first time. Your mom told me you’ve been struggling?—”

I threw my hands in the air and walked to the door, opening it. Security was waiting, presumably to escort me to the car that would take me to rehab.

I turned and looked at Ledger. “Tell my mom to enjoy the family she always wanted.”

Before he could respond, I walked out, slamming the door behind me. I moved down the hallway in silence, not saying a word. The guards had taken my phone, and I let out a bitter laugh. Last night with Nova had been the best night of my life, and this morning was the worst.

She’d figure out where I was going—her boss had probably already spoken to her about it. She’d understand I wasn’t just ditching her, but there was still something inside me itching to finish the conversation we never got to have. She deserved answers.

I closed my eyes, desperate for a taste of alcohol. My nose itched for a bump, and shame clawed at me for how everything had gone down with Nova. I glanced down at my boots as the guards opened the back door to the arena. An overly sunny day greeted me, ironic considering how dark I felt inside.

I inhaled deeply as I stared at the blacked-out Escalade waiting for me.

They escorted me inside quickly, likely to avoid any curious eyes.

I hated this shit. I didn’t want to go to this program.

I had no idea what to expect. I had never done anything like this alone.

My own mother didn’t have the audacity to show up, instead sending her husband.

She was crying all morning, according to Ledger, but what about me?

I cried all night in front of Nova’s door because I put her in a foul position.

She deserved so much more than I was giving her, but somehow, I wasn’t sure if rehab was going to show me to be better for me.

I had no idea how I was going to survive thirty days.

Fuck. I wasn’t an addict, but Nova’s words echoed in the back of my mind.

I needed to do this to save my career and any potential of her being in my life in the future.

She was so determined and demanding when she told me what to do this morning.

When she answered the door, she was different from the person crying last night—strong, powerful, and so fucking sexy.

So I was going to do this for Nova. I’d do it for her because she told me to.

I wasn’t an addict, but I was addicted to Nova Thatcher.