Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Mom scowls. “You can’t turn this around on me.”
“I’m nineteen. I can stay wherever I want.”
“As long as you’re behaving responsibly and are not in any danger. Yes, of course, but I think you’d understand why I’m worried!”
Her voice breaks, and I realize I can add terrible daughter times two to my list of failures. She’s probably been talking with Miss Hariss about what happened, imagining me in Chrissy’s position. I put my laptop aside, walk across the living room, and sit beside her.
“Of course, Mom,” I whisper. “I’m safe. Nothing bad is going to happen to me. I won’t be drinking any alcohol. Consuming any drugs. Nothing like that.”
“So, where are you going?” she asks.
The tension is almost painful. I let out a sigh. “To see my boyfriend.”
“Your boyfriend?” Mom says, eyes snapping open widely. “Why on earth does that have to be a secret? That’s excellent news!”
“Mom, please,” I say quickly before she starts yelling in excitement and brings Dad in here. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“What? How?”
“He has a girlfriend!” I blurt, the only deranged thing that comes to my mind. “He wants to leave her, but she’s got issues. She’s fragile. They’re working through it.”
It’s like sitting at the keyboard, typing out a story. The disappointment on Mom’s face threatens to shatter me. It reminds me of what will happen if I tell her the actual truth.
“He should break up with her before beginning a relationship with you,” Mom says sternly. “I’d rather you found somebody who didn’t start a relationship while already in one. It doesn’t bode well for the future.”
I couldn’t agree more with Mom. Infidelity makes me sick. There’s no excuse for it. “I know, Mom. It’s… complicated.”
“You’ve already said it’s complicated, but I don’t like the thought of this boy taking advantage of you or humiliating his girlfriend. Or you being any part of it.”
“I’m not in any danger. That’s what you wanted to know, right?”
“Yes, but I almost wished I hadn’t asked.”
“What if I ask about those men, Mom? The ones who made Dad look the most scared I’ve ever seen him.”
“I love you, Emma. I love you so, so much, but there are some things parents have to handle alone.”
“Well, there are some things daughters have to handle alone, too, it turns out. And I love you too.” After a pause, I ask, “Are you going to tell Dad or Eric?”
“Of course not. It’s not their business, but please be careful.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Logan
I do pushups in the hotel room, mentally replaying the game I just watched. The joke of a defense we put up. The simple tricks on the ice the other team pulled. Feint shots, quick passing, things we should’ve been all over. Basics we’ve drilled countless times.
“You’re not just a defenseman,” Chuck says down the phone as I reach my forty-second rep, my technique not yet affected. “You’re the Ice Demon. You have a presence out there. You help people play their best. Your tackles inspire others. I’m not trying to stroke your ego here. This isn’t even Tremblay talking through me, but trust me. He’s furious.”
“I can imagine,” I grunt, sinking into another rep. “That was a pitiful defense.”
“Some others are talking, Logan, and wondering if you’re moving to another team. Is this sabotage? Tremblay was even talking about contracts earlier. You’re in breach, technically. They could dock your salary.”
“I don’t care about the money,” I growl.
It’s just what I watched: the pathetic defense. Far more than nine mistakes and chaos than I ever allowed on the ice. I grit my teeth. It’s almost painful. Not the pushups. Rep number fifty-two and getting close to failure. I did sixty-one last set.
“It’s the game, Chuck. The game.”
“Then get your ass back here.”
Emma’s name appears on my phone screen. Call waiting. “I’ve got to go,” I tell Chuck. “I’ll see you soon.”
I mean it as a general way of saying goodbye, but he answers, “I hope so, Logan. Really.”
“Hey,” Emma says. “I’m, uh, ready. You said I should call you?”
“Yeah, I’m going to send a car,” I tell her.
“I can grab an Uber.”
“I’ve already hired the car. I just need to send a text. I’d come to pick you up myself, but…”
She sighs. “I know. I’m the holdup here. You’d come and get me if it didn’t mean telling Dad. You were the one who said we should try to forget about everything for a little while. The rest of the world. Problems.”
She’s right. I’m being a cold, blunt bastard. It’s the game. It’s replaying over and over in my head. The simple mistakes. The patterns on the ice. I’m thinking about my kid again, about whether or not I will be the sort of man who quits. What kind of example does that set?
“You’re right,” I say, “but I’d prefer to tell him. I can’t lie about that.”