Chapter 58
~GRAYSON~
We won.
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The final score favored us by one, scraped together after I was forced out the game. The coach’s face when I walked back to the locker room already said he knew how close we were to losing because of my actions.
Game misconduct. Same as Chase. The officials had needed less than a minute after the separation to decide neither of us belonged on the ice for the rest of the night.
Callum dropped onto the bench beside me while the trainers moved around the cut near my eyebrow.
“What the hell was that?” he asked.
Marcus leaned over from the other side. “He said something. Had to. Our captain has ignored worse bait from him for years.”
“Drop it,” I said. I did not want to repeat what that asshole said to me.
Theo, still half in pads, raised both hands. “We’re just saying the same thing the entire building is going to say. And we nearly handed them the night because of it.”
I ripped the tape off my socks. I was in no mood to have this discussion. They took the hint.
The coach didn’t wait long to confront me about my behavior, which almost cost the team.
He pointed two fingers at me and stepped into the narrow corridor outside the main room. When the door shut behind us, he turned to face me.
“You are the captain of this team,” he said. “Do you understand what almost happened out there?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure you do. I watched my best player throw the stick, throw the first hands, and the team almost suffered because of it. You want to fight Holt in a parking lot, that’s your business. You do it on my clock again, and we are going to have a different conversation.”
I kept my jaw locked and my eyes forward. “It won’t happen again.”
‘It better not.” He pointed a finger at my chest, not quite touching. “I don’t care what he said. I don’t care what history you’ve got off the ice. I don’t care about your personal business. When you take the draw, you take the draw. Next time you feel yourself going there, you skate to the bench and you let me handle the ‘est. Clear?”
‘Clear.”
‘Get the cut cleaned. Media will be waiting whether you want them or not. Keep it short.”
He went back inside. I stayed in the corridor for a second longer, the coach’s words stacking on top of Chase’s. Once they cleaned up my wound, I finished changing and headed for the exit.
The media was on me as soon as I cleared the secured hallway into the mixed zone near the players’ lot. Recorders and phones were all up in my face before I could walk away.
I was used to this by now but tonight for some reason, I was having a difficult time focusing. There were so many questions. And none of them to do with hockey. Everything to do with my personal life.
‘Grayson, what started the fight with Chase Holt?”
“Was that personal between you two captains?”
“You and Holt have history-do you want to address the tension?”
“Is there bad blood beyond the rivalry?”
I kept walking, bag on my shoulder, answers snipped to nothing useful.
Chapter 58
Then une voice got through more than the rest
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Does this have anything to do with the diner photos of your wife and Holt? Are you concerned about those reports? Is Blair cheating on you with Chase?”
I stopped so fast the bag strap bit into my shoulder and a few of them almost bounced straight into me.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
Every single device moved toward the heat in my voice.
I knew, even as the words left my mouth, that the clip would be online in minutes. Captain loses it. Gets defensive over the mention of his wife possibly cheating on him with his biggest rival.
“Repeat that,” I said, stepping forward. “Go on. Talk about my wife again.”
Hands rose. Someone tried to rephrase.
“I didn’t mean-”
“Say it.” I growled. “Repeat it. Let me hear you talk about Blair again. Say it to my face.”
I was ready to punch the motherfucker. I didn’t like anyone speaking badly about her. So they snapped one picture of her in a diner with her ex, how could that prove that she was cheating?”
Them I heard Blair’s voice from behind me.
“Grayson!”
She was moving fast, security half a step behind her. She reached me, fingers closing around my wrist, and turned her face to the cameras with a calmness I didn’t currently own. For some reason, when anyone mentioned Blair’s name, I found it difficult to stay calm.
“That’s enough,” she said to them. “Questions about the game should go through the team. Grayson wouldn’ t be answering any more of them. He’s hurt.”
She tugged once, firmly, and I let her pull me toward the car. The flashes kept firing at our backs.
Blair didn’t let go of my wrist until we cleared the worst of it.
“Get in the car,” she said quietly. “Before you give them the rest of tomorrow’s headlines.”
I did.
She was right.
I still wanted to go back and finish what I started. However, I wanted this moment with her more. Just the
two of us.
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Dex Morgan
Dex works to elevate each story with clean writing, emotional balance, and thoughtful flow for readers.