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We’d lost again tonight, so we were a somber group as we filed off the bus back at the hotel. Tonight had been Detroit, tomorrow was Chicago, and then we had a day off to fly to Minnesota. We’d play Minnesota, Winnipeg, and Calgary before heading home for our final games of the season. The season that had started out so strong and had crashed and burned with Ben’s death.
It pissed me off and broke my heart at the same time. We were a strong, solid team with tons of talent and the potential to go all the way but our hearts just weren’t in it. I could accomplish many things both on the ice and in the locker room, but speeding up the grieving process wasn’t one of them.
I was almost to the elevator when I heard raised voices behind me and I turned, frowning at Konstantin and one of the vets on the team, Keegan Miller. Keegan was a hothead who’d only been on the team a year, traded to us from Philly. He was kind of a dick, though he did his job on the ice, which was all I cared about. However, he’d just shoved Konstantin and though Konstantin wasn’t a fighter or a tough guy, he looked pissed.
“Yop tvayu mhat!” Konstantin yelled, shoving Keegan back. Fuck you.
Shit. I didn’t speak Russian but had been around enough players to know what that meant and I hurried in their direction just as Keegan caught Konstantin around the waist and slammed him against the wall.
“Hey!” I grabbed Keegan around the middle and Nash pulled Konstantin back.
“Fuck you, you fucking Commie!” Keegan was yelling, jerking out of my grasp. “You and your skanky whore should go back to Russia.”
This time it was Konstantin who lunged and Lars grabbed him just before his fist could connect with Keegan’s jaw.
“Watch your fucking mouth!” I snapped at Keegan. Then I turned to Konstantin. “Come on, man, this isn’t you.”
He pointed at Keegan and said something in Russian that none of us understood, his eyes burning into Keegan’s.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
“None of your fucking business,” Keegan said, picking up his bag.
“You made it my business when you started something here in the public lobby of our hotel.” I had my hands on my hips.
“You know what?” Keegan gave me a disparaging look. “You’re not the boss. I know you think you can replace Ben, but you can’t. You don’t have his class or presence in the locker room. Ask around—you don’t have the respect and you’re definitely not getting it from me. So instead of trying to play captain, why don’t you focus on playing hockey and leave us the fuck alone the rest of the time?” He stalked off in the other direction.
“Keegan, what the fuck, man?” I called after him but he didn’t turn around.
I looked around at the group of guys that had gathered and narrowed my eyes. “That true? You guys want me out as captain? Because I didn’t ask for this.”
A few guys looked away and my heart sank.
“I think this is not best time to discuss this,” Lars said quietly, which surprised me since he rarely spoke up like that.
“You okay?” I looked to Konstantin but his face was red and he looked furious.
“This is not okay!” He pointed in the direction Keegan had gone. Then he went off in Russian again.
I waited for him to finish before saying, “I need you to tell me what happened.”
“He and Svetlana…” His voice trailed off. “I cannot stay here. I must go.” The elevator doors opened and he got inside, putting up a hand to stop one of the other guys from joining him. Then the doors closed and everyone looked at each other uncomfortably.
What the fuck had just happened?
I got up to the room and threw my bag down before ripping off my suit and stomping into the bathroom. I was equal parts furious and embarrassed, my heart thudding painfully against my chest. Did the guys resent me? Was it somehow my fault that we couldn’t win to save our lives lately?
The letter Ben had left me addressed the important things, but it hadn’t even touched upon hockey because that wasn’t an area of my life where I struggled. He’d had advice about the kids, life, even Hadley, but nowhere did he have any words of wisdom about how to replicate his presence with the Mavericks.
With no answers readily available, I stretched out on the bed and dug my phone out of my pants pocket. I longed to hear Hadley’s voice, to talk about the kids or her new baby food recipe, or anything but hockey. Because hockey sucked right now.
“Hey.” She answered on the first ring.
“Hey.” I sighed. “Kids asleep?”
“Yes. And, Annalise is in her own bed.”
