I snatch the card out of his hand without saying anything before I storm out of his office.
“Hey, Cally. Bummer about being benched.” Brandon Nix is suddenly in my path as I make my way to the door. I do the only responsible thing and shoulder check him—with my left shoulder of course—and ignore the asshat. He’s got to pick a fight everywhere he goes. In the locker room, at the bar, on the field. He can’t control his mouth or temper, and it’s cost all of us at one time or another.
My move takes him by surprise, and he stumbles back.
“Hey—what the fuck was that?” Nix comes charging after me. He’s incapable of backing down from a fight, even when he’s 100 percent in the wrong. Suddenly, TJ Doyle and CC are there, holding us back.
I’ve never wanted to hit someone so badly in all my life. “You’re an asshole, and I’ve had my fill of assholes right now.”
“I might be an asshole, but you’re not one,” Brandon retorts, bucking against the restraints. “Actually, you kind of are, but never so openly aggressive. What crawled up your butt?”
I shake off CC.
“They want me to go talk to Watson. I’m benched until I do.”
“You need to. You’re a loose cannon.”
I scoff. “You’re one to talk.”
“I’m not saying I have my shit together. We all know I don’t. But you do. Or at least you used to. I get that you’re injured, but we all get injured. The perfect Callaghan Entay isn’t above getting hurt. You’re not above it.” Brandon walks away before I can retort.
Fuck. If Brandon Nix is calling me out, I must be in worse shape than I thought. He’s right. Not that I’ll ever admit that to him. I’m not above getting hurt. It’s not as if this is a new occurrence for me. It happens all the time.
At least the physical hurt.
The emotional hurt—well, that is uncharted territory for me. I still can’t believe Hannah was going to sell me out to further her career. If you’d told me Katherine was doing it, that I’d believe.
Not Hannah.
I thought she was different. I thought she cared about me as a person. Not Callaghan Entay, goaltender. I didn’t even realize I was trusting her until she blew my trust right out of the water.
What gets me the most is I offered to help her. I told her to use my name and connections. She said no. She told me she wouldn’t use me to get ahead.
She lied.
I didn’t picture her as being a liar. That’s a new development that I didn’t see coming. I was totally blindsided.
Xavier’s news was a one-two punch I didn’t anticipate.
I replay our conversations over and over again, trying to look for some clue I may have missed. Some signal that she was going to shoot right when I was diving left.
There were none.
Except for maybe the whole sepsis thing. She initially told me it was all my fault. Her losing soccer and her chance at a career. Sure, Hannah recanted that, but she said it.
Maybe getting close to me was some elaborate revenge plan. And when my defenses were down, she struck. She had to have known what releasing a story like that would do, especially viaThe Looking Glass. Justice and Heaven would have been working overtime to spin that PR nightmare. I never imagined her to be that diabolical.
It’d be worse than another false paternity claim. So much worse.
Because there’s nothing false about it. My shoulder’s shit right now, and it may jeopardize my role on the National Team. Hell, it might even cost me my starting spot on the Buzzards if rehab isn’t successful and I end up needing surgery.
The physical therapy team is optimistic that a conservative rehab course will prevent me from having to go under the knife. But that takes time and patience I don’t have. Not to mention that there’s no guarantee. If I end up needing surgery, I’ll be out for months.
Kiss my career goodbye.
Once the rumors start, it’s hard to get rid of that doubt. I’ll be left playing defense that I’ll be fine, rather than the offensive position that I’m the best player for the position.
Since I have nothing better to do with my time, I drive over to Watson Ross’s office. I’m not sure why Coach thinks he can help me. It’s not a sports issue. I’m not in a slump or have the yips or anything like that. I’m hurt and I was betrayed.
