Page 148 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“Everybody has an off night. Apparently that game was mine,” I say, giving the company line Sanderson drilled in my head right after his numerous threats about how if I keep my shit up, I’m going to be benched or suspended and lose him as an agent. While I’m pretty sure his warnings about losing endorsement deals are a load of crap said to instill fear in me, the benching me part might be true enough. “Let’s hope I can shake off the bad juju and get back into the groove tonight.”

“Are you worried how that loss is going to matter to the Jacks in the standings?”

I move the microphone back and try to find who asked the question but have a hard time seeing through the lights.

“Every game matters. Every win, every loss. I’ve been playing in this league long enough to know a one-goal loss in the first week of the season can be the determining factor to how your season ends when you never realized it. Lucky for us, the Nomads lost too so we had an even night on paper.”

You’re burned out, Hunter—fucking fried.

Dekker’s words replay in my head for the millionth time since they passed her lips, and I try to shake them off. I know it’s true. Obviously, she knows it’s true.

But goddamn it, the reason why is something I can’t fix.

I’ve tried.

Jesus, have I tried.

“Mr. Maddox, over here.” The female reporter’s voice rings out and knocks Dekker’s voice from my head. I blink a few times into the light and then hold my hand over my eyes so I can look in her direction. “Hello. Hi.”

Rookie reporter. They always ramble when they’re new.

“Hello.”

“Um, yes. Um . . . Vida Henson with Sports Worldwide. You seem to have been on a tear lately. You’re closing in on two NHL records in rapid time. Are you doing anything different this year to make such strong improvements to your game?”

Yeah, my brother’s dying.

“Good question.”

And I helped kill him.

I stare at the lights and shake my head as I fight back the truth that haunts me every day of my life. At the crushing weight of it.

“I’ve been . . . training differently,” I lie. “I added on some new members to my team outside of the club to help bring out my potential, and I—uh—guess they deserve a raise because it seems to be working.”

I say a few more things, but I’m distracted.

Maybe it’s being back in the same city I grew up in.

Maybe it’s knowing I have to go home and face reality.

Maybe it’s because . . .

“Mr. Maddox? Randy Girdley with Headline Sports. You grew up not far from here, are there any places you like to frequent when you get to come back home?”

The stretch of road where my life changed forever.

The cemetery to pay my respects.

Dekker wasn’t completely right.

It’s so much more than being burned out.

I blink a few times as the room shifts and moves around me, and I try to fight those first few terrifying moments when the path my life was on changed forever.

Your game is shit tonight, son. You should be embarrassed of how you played.

Facing my dad.