Read with BonusRead with Bonus

Chapter Eight

We played hockey like they did on the streets of New York, no gloves and no pads. We stood in the middle of the rink with the puck in the middle and we faced each other. He nodded at me, and we fought over control of the puck.

I preferred the right-wing position, being on the offense and going to score. I won the face-off, and kept the puck close to my stick, not giving him the chance to steal it from me. I sped towards the goal and ignored the way his stick kept hitting my legs.

He was playing like the pro he had been and ignored the fact that I was a high school student with no hockey training. I scored after twenty seconds and stopped right in front of the goal net with the biggest smile on my face.

“That was good. You didn’t tell me you could play,” Alexander said.

“We mostly played on outdoor rinks or the street, made up our own teams,” I said.

“You never played for a team?” The disbelief was there in his eyes and a frown appeared between his brows.

“No. I was moved from group and foster homes too often,” I said.

“Let’s go,” he said and stole the puck out of the net and started skating to his own side.

We played for another hour, breathing hard and sweating, but it was one of the best days of my life. Being out on the ice again with a stick in my hand, controlling the puck and outskating Alexander was just the boost my self-esteem needed. He was still very good, and I stopped skating when someone started clapping.

“Hey, Malcolm,” Alexander said.

“The kid’s good,” he said and looked at me.

“Kage, this is Malcolm Petter. He’s the high school hockey coach,” Alexander said.

Alexander and I skated towards the edge of the rink where Malcolm stood with his arms crossed and I stuck my hand out and greeted him. “Hi, Coach.”

“Where’d you learn to play like that?” Malcolm asked me.

“Street games in New York,” I said.

He turned to look at Alexander and shook his head. “How old are you, Kage?”

“I’ll be seventeen in August,” I said.

“Did you play for your old school there? Any division matches? Try-outs?” he asked me.

“No, Coach.”

Malcolm Petter’s eyes widened, and his laugh was infectious. “Holy shit, Alexander, you brought me a prodigy!”

Coach Petter had me do sprints on the ice to see how fast I could go. He’d yell at me to stop and to go again as he checked my times and reflexes. He made me skate while bouncing the puck on my stick and then he emptied a bucket of pucks in the middle of the ice and told me to shoot for goal.

He made notes and wrote my times down in a notebook and Alexander sat on one of the seats and grinned as he watched me. I had the feeling that Coach Petter was impressed with what I could do, but in reality, I was too afraid to hope for it.

“I’ll see you at school, Kage. You better be on the ice when hockey season starts,” Coach Petter said and turned toward Alexander. “I know I said you owed me one for coming out today but looks like I owe you one.”

“Thanks, Malcolm, I really appreciate it,” Alexander said, and the two men shook hands.

Alexander still had that smile on his face as we took our skates off and put everything back in his bag. I was tired from all the skating, but it was the good kind of tired and for the first time in very long, I had a genuine smile on my face.

“Why the ice rink?” I asked him as we walked back to his car.

“I had a hunch,” he said, and I frowned. “You get this look on your face whenever a game is on.”

“Was the Coach for real?” I asked him.

Alexander popped the trunk, and I placed the bag inside and walked to the front of the car. “You have raw talent, Kage, even I wasn’t that good at your age.”

“Thanks, Alexander,” I said as he started the car and drove out of the University parking lot.

We drove home in silence and my mind was in overdrive. The Coach thought I was good enough to make the team. He wanted me to go to try-outs and I couldn’t help smiling at the idea of me playing high school hockey.

Alexander parked his car in front of the patio and turned to look at me. “I see a lot of myself in you, Kage. I was good at hockey at a young age too, I’m still relatively young but I went to college before I got signed to play pro hockey.”

“You really think I can go to college?” It was an honest question because I’d never seen myself as talented or smart.

“You’re smart, Kage, really smart. You’re talented too and the world is literally your oyster, but hockey doesn’t last forever. All I’m saying is, if you want to go to college, you can. Don’t build your future with bricks from your past, otherwise, the house you live in will always look the same,” he said.

I blinked the tears from my eyes because here was Alexander Hawthorne, an NHL legend, telling me that I had talent and that I was good enough. Too many emotions welled up in me and I had no idea how to react to any of it.

We walked into the house to loud gunshots coming from the living room and Castiel lowered the sound as I sat down on my spot on the couch, still grinning like an idiot. I felt free and this time, as the hope bloomed in my chest, I let it.

“You look really happy,” Miles said.

“Did Alexander take you to a strip club?” Sloan asked and sat up straighter.

“Better.” I smiled.

“What’s better than a strip club?” Castiel asked.

“The ice rink,” I said, and they all frowned at me.

“Kage found his dream,” Alexander said and walked out of the living room.

“I played against Alexander and the school’s coach was there. He told me I was good and invited me to try out for the team,” I explained.

“That’s awesome, Kage!”

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter