Page 140 of The Tryout

“Hey, you. Sorry I couldn’t see you before the game. I’m just gonna grab a quick shower and then we’ll head home, okay?”

I smile at him and nod, considering hugging him in spite of his sweat and my suit. As I watch him head to the shower room, someone else comes over – Calvin Briggs.

“You know, he’s kind of grown on me. Like a mold. Or a fungus.”

I roll my eyes, wondering why Briggs suddenly wants to talk to me, after a year and a half of reminding me what a loser I am.

It’s because you’re an NHL player and he isn’t and he knows it.

The voice in my head sounds a lot like Avery these days.

“It’s a shame the team doesn’t seem to feel the same way.”

This does catch my attention, and I can’t help but look his way.

“What do you mean?”

His smirk tells me he’s got me right where he wants me.

“Haven’t you been watching the news? Keller and I already got extensions. Novak’s out. But still nothing for Lawson? Strange, isn’t it?”

I don’t bother to listen to the rest, spinning around and heading for the door. I pull my phone from my pocket, not wanting Avery to worry.

Finn Murphy 8:42 PM

Gonna grab you some ice from the trainer.

Back soon.

As I stride down the hallway, my face flushes with anger.

Briggs? They took Briggs over Avery?

I reach the door I’m looking for, opening it without knocking. Banks looks up from his desk, surprise in his eyes.

“Murphy! Good to see you. What, uh, brings you here?”

What the fuck are you doing walking into my office without knocking?

That’s clearly what he means, but politeness – or surprise – keeps him from saying it out loud.

“What the fuck is this organization thinking?”

I know for a fact it’s the first time I’ve yelled at Banks, because it’s the first time I’ve ever yelled at any coach. His eyebrows rise upward, but he doesn’t respond.

“You really think Briggs is the future of our defense? Can’t skate warmups without wheezing, hung over on the ice Calvin Briggs is who you’re offering contracts to these days?”

Banks remains silent, apparently not prepared to answer my questions. Well, that’s fine by me – I’ve got plenty more for him.

“I mean, Jesus. Lawson is out there stopping the puck and making plays and going home to ice and stretch and sleep so he can do it all again the next day and you want Calvin Briggs?”

“Baby, stop.”

A hand lands on my shoulder and I whirl around to find Avery, his eyes shining.

“No. You would never let them treat me like this, and I’ll be damned if they’re gonna do it to you.”

Banks comes up behind me, patting me gently on the back, then looks at Avery, something I can’t quite understand in his gaze.