Page 2 of My One & Goalie
Fuck.
Cold reality sinks in as I watch my teammates filter out of the stadium. They’ll all be back here tomorrow morning, suiting up for practice, trying to score goals on the rookie.
The rookie who’s not me.
I’msupposed to be defending that net, not some punk-ass twenty-year-old kid.
Me.
Punching in my agent’s number, I listen as the phone rings. Once, twice, three times.
“Pick up, dammit!” I grumble, irritation bubbling up.
“Kovac,” Rick finally answers. “Shit game tonight, huh?”
“Gee, thanks, Ricky. Yeah, it was. Sweet of you to point it out.”
“I just got off the phone with Coach Kirkley.”
I huff out a heavy sigh, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. “And?”
“Not good, Kovac. He’s pissed and so is the Commissioner. You’re suspended and they’re still deciding for how long.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. I managed to keep you out of jail last night, but I couldn’t stop the paps from running the story. Free press and all that. The fight tonight pushed him over the edge.”
Aggravation and dread mix in my gut, a sour cocktail of desperation swirling around down there.
“Any ideas, Ricky? Or are you just here to recap my fuck ups?”
“A retired client lives in a sleepy little town on the coast, Starlight Bay. He hit me up last week, asking about hockey coaches for a youth league.”
“What? You want me to coach kiddie hockey?”
“Yeah, player, I do. Would make for good press. I know that’s not a concept you’re familiar with.”
“Piss off.” I soften my tone, realizing that Rick’s the only one on my side at the moment. “I mean, thanks for the option. But I’m not sure it’s the right solution.”
“Kovac, you don’t have a whole lot of options right now. This will get you out of the city, away from trouble. You can do good for the community and come out smelling like a damn rose. Think about it.”
I thrum my fingers on the cool leather of the wheel. “Fine. I’ll do it. Send me the details and I’ll head out in the morning.” I disconnect without saying goodbye and toss the cell into the passenger seat.
“Fuck!” I yell into the silence, slamming my palms down hard. I don’t have any desire to move out of the city and spend several hours a day with whiny kids learning to skate.
But if I lose hockey, I’ve got nothing. No wife, no family to speak of.
Hockey’s everything to me.
This sport is my entire damn life.
I’ll do whatever it takes to stay in the league, even if that means turning into a fucking Boy Scout.
Firing up the engine, I peel out of the lot, blasting Pearl Jam from the speakers.
Coach may think I’m out of the game, but I’m not.
Nobody backs Xander Kovac up against the boards.