Scoring Chance (Utah Fury Hockey Book 9)

by Brittney Mulliner

  “Is Monday too soon to start?” she asked with a cautious tone.

  I was living back at home, and the majority of my belongings were still packed up from when I moved from my apartment near campus. It would take me two to three days to drive to Salt Lake. If I left tomorrow, I’d get there on Friday and have the weekend to settle in.

  “That’s perfect.”

  “Great. Thanks, Amelia. I’ll send you an email with some employment forms. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Thanks, Madeline,” I gushed before hanging up. I kept dancing around my room until I realized I had to tell Elena. Hopefully she was serious when she said I could move into her guest room.

  I took a minute to calm down before calling my sister. I didn’t know her schedule, but hopefully I’d catch her.

  “Hey, sis.”

  “Elena! Guess what?”

  She chuckled. “What’s up?”

  “You have a new roommate.”

  There was a pause before she cheered. “You got the job? You’re moving here?”

  “Yeah! I’m starting on Monday, so I’ll be driving up in a few days.”

  “This is the best news, Amelia! I’m so excited to have you here.”

  I laid down on my bed with a contented sigh. “Are you sure you’re okay with me moving in? I don’t want to get in the way.”

  “Don’t worry at all. I can’t wait to have you here and introduce you to everyone.”

  I smiled at the thought of meeting her friends. “I’m excited to meet Nikolay in person.”

  Elena wasn’t the type to fall in love so quickly, but she seemed to have fallen head over heels for her neighbor. It might have helped that he just happened to be a ridiculously handsome hockey player.

  Not that she was shallow, but it couldn’t have hurt his chances.

  “He’s looking forward to it. Plus, you’ll get to meet his mom and sister.”

  I remembered they were in Salt Lake for his sister’s cancer treatment. “How are they doing?”

  “Yula’s feeling better. She’s almost done with her first course of treatment, so they’ll do scans and tests next to see how well it’s working.”

  I shook my head. She was only thirteen and going through something I couldn’t imagine. Once upon a time, I thought not being able to compete was the worst thing that could happen to me. Since then I’d grown up and realized how lucky I was. I was able to move and walk without pain or assistance. I may not have been able to flip off a beam anymore, but I was healthy.

  “Will she be able to leave the hospital while she waits?”

  “I’m not sure. It depends on the results and what the doctors say.” She was trying to stay strong, but I could hear a bit of trepidation in her voice.

  “Hopefully she can, at least for an afternoon or something.”

  “I’m sure she would love that.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “Now, are you going to need help driving up here? I could probably fly down to help you drive the moving truck.”

  “Well, do I need to bring my bed or any other furniture?”

  She sighed. “No, Chloe and her designer made sure my place was fully furnished within a few weeks. I told them I was fine with just the basics, but they took over. It took me a little while to learn that if you give them an inch, they will take a thousand miles.”

  I giggled. “And you love not being in control.”

  She laughed. “I’m learning to relax and let them take the lead on things. It’s nice not having to plan everything all the time.”

  “Wow. I’m impressed. I’ve got to meet these women. They got you to relax. That’s a miracle.”

  “Hey I’m not that bad.”

  I rolled my eyes. She was totally type A. Her room was always organized to perfection, and if she noticed anything was out of place, she came after me. I may have enjoyed messing with her when we were growing up. I’d move or switch things just enough to drive her crazy trying to figure out what was off.

  Apparently, she’d mellowed out, but I wouldn’t believe it until I saw for myself.

  “Then I’ll just pack up my clothes and necessities. I can fit all of that in my car.”

  “Perfect. Let me know when you plan on leaving.”

  “I will.” We said goodbye, then I looked around my childhood room and made a mental list of things I needed to bring. I was going to leave all bad reminders of what could have been. Only positive vibes were coming with me to my new home.

  Later, when I sat down to dinner with my parents my knee was bouncing a hundred miles a minute.

  “Everything okay, Amelia?” Mom asked with a small smile, like she was trying to keep in a laugh.

  I nodded and looked between them. “I have some news.”

  They shared a look before Dad turned to me. “What is it?”

  “I sent in an application to a physical therapy office, and had an interview today.”

  Dad’s eyebrows shot up. “What office? Is it the one in Sugar Land?”

  I shook my head.

  “Oh, then the one in Katy?”

  “No, it’s not in Texas.”

  Mom gasped. “Where is it?”

  “Salt Lake City.”

  They were silent until Dad cleared his throat. “You don’t have to move three states away to get a job, Amelia.”

  I shrugged. “I kind of do. I haven’t had a single reply to any of my applications here. Not one email or phone call. You know I tried to clear things up after Martin and—”

  “Don’t say her name.” Mom cut me off.

  I sighed. “I can’t find work here. Elena spoke to her friend that works at a clinic there and she offered me a position.”

  Dad remained silent, but I could see he resigned to the idea. They both knew how hard the past several months had been on me. After rebuilding my life when my gymnastics career ended, we thought the hardest part was over. There wasn’t anything that could break me like that. Then, I met the man that would completely change my life. For the worse.

  Four years of hard work, studying, clinicals, and late nights studying meant nothing once word spread. My parents had seen my world fall apart all over again. They tried to stay optimistic and held onto the hope that I’d find a job here, but it had been months. I couldn’t keep waiting when an amazing opportunity fell in my lap.

  “I already called Elena and she said I can live with her.”

  Mom smiled. “It would be nice for you two to be together again.”

  We hadn’t lived together since I was in middle school. She was graduated and in college before I turned fourteen. She came home for some holidays, but after she finished college and moved to Los Angeles for her career, we went months then years without visits. Living with her was more than I could ever ask for. I missed my sister and getting more than a few video chats a week would be amazing.

  “I just hate that you think you need to leave. It should be them that runs.” Dad said bitterly.

  “I’m not running, Dad. This is a really great opportunity for my career. Salt Lake has so many professional teams I could end up working with.”

  He nodded. “We have that here too.”

  I reached across the table and placed my hand on his wrist. “I’m going to be okay.”

  His eyes glistened when they met mine. “I know, Sweetie. You’ll be great.”

  3

  Derrek

  Pucks flew at me in a nearly perfect rhythm. I shifted, stood, dropped, and threw out my hand, stopping almost all of them. Erik got one past me in the five-hole and laughed as he skated by. I shook my head and focused on Reese coming toward me. He liked to go for the top left corner, but he knew I knew that. I watched his stick moving the puck swiftly and anticipated what he thought he could trick me with. I dropped to my knees as he pulled back for a wrist shot. I blocked my left corner and smiled when the puck hit my stick and bounced out.

  I had half a second to enjoy the save before Grant approached and shot directly at me. I got my glove up just i
n time.

  “Are you aiming for my face?” I growled and watched him as he skated past me. He shrugged, not bothering to reply.

  I pushed it out of my mind and focused on Colin. He shot from the blue line, taking me by surprise but I raised my shoulder, blocking the puck from passing.

  Hartman was next, taking his time as he approached me, searching for a weakness. He was the hardest to predict. The way his mind worked was a complete mystery. He saw angles no one else did. It was amazing to watch, but I hated being on the receiving end of it. He cut to the left, almost passing me completely. I was confused until he shot at the last possible second. The puck glided across my shoulders, behind my helmet, and into the back of the net.

  I froze, looking at where he stopped with a cocky smirk. “That was amazing.”

  “I’ve been working on it with Olli.”

  I nodded in appreciation. “There’s not a chance I could have stopped it.”

  He grinned. “Good.”

  Coach Romney blew his whistle, ending the drill. The guys stepped off the ice to get a drink while I turned and grabbed my bottle from the back of the net. The extra pucks were cleared off the ice, and soon the first and second lines were facing off at center ice.

  I stretched my neck and took my stance as Reese took possession and sent the puck in my direction. Nikolay was the first to reach it, turning and heading to the opposite side of the ice while passing to Grant.

  The guys went back and forth for two minutes before Hartman broke free and shot at me. I blocked it, and they switched out lines.

  Porter Vaugh skated past me sending the puck to Isaiah Meyer. They headed toward Olli, but Elliot Grey stole it and broke through the defensemen. I held out my glove, ready for him to shoot, but he didn’t. He was coming straight at me with determination in his eyes. I tried to move out of his path, but he turned to the side and slammed his body into mine.

  I fell back on the ice, gasping to fill the air he just knocked out of me. I sat up and glared. “What was that?”

  He was already standing over me. “What? It was a mistake. Can’t handle a little action, Kid?”

  I growled and reached for his left leg, pulling until he fell on his back. I shifted to my knees while pulling off my gloves. I punched his chin. His cheek. I was rearing back for another one when he pushed me away. I moved to go after him but my arms were pulled back. I looked around to see Reese and Erik on either side of me, restraining me.

  “Did you see what he did? That was intentional.” I tugged away from them.

  They pulled me to my feet and dragged me away from Elliot. Hartman moved past the crowd to get in my face. “What is your problem, Aston?”

  “He hit me on purpose! He didn’t even pretend to take a shot. Ask him what his problem is!” The anger I forced down every single day was boiling, barely contained.

  “I’ll deal with him later. Right now, I want to know why you felt the need to beat the crap out of him. You’ve taken harder hits.”

  “It’s practice. He’s on my team!” Why was I the one in trouble?

  “Aston! Get over here,” Coach Romney called out with a calm voice. It was unnerving. I expected him to yell or curse at me. Hartman shoved me in the direction of the bench, and I skated over without looking back to see how Elliot was.

  “What was that?” Coach asked with fire in his eyes.

  I shrugged. “He took me out. He knew exactly what he was doing.”

  He shook his head. “Go talk to Coach Abrams.”

  I stepped off the ice, throwing my helmet on the bench as I walked into the tunnel. Abrams was the new goaltending coach. So far, I hadn’t worked with him much. He sometimes ran drills with me and Olli, but he focused his attention on the starter. Just another person that forgot about me, even though it was his job.

  I went to the locker room and took off my skates and gear before slipping on sweats and going to find Abrams’s office. The door was closed so I knocked and waited for him to call me in.

  “Yeah?”

  I opened the door, and he looked up at me with a confused expression. “Why aren’t you at practice?”

  I sat down in front of him. He was younger than Romney, only in his late thirties. He retired about five years ago and decided to spread his knowledge and experience with those that could still play.

  “Coach sent me in.”

  His eyebrows pulled together. “Why?”

  I shook my head. “Maybe if you ever came to practice, you’d know.”

  The moment the words escaped panic burned in my stomach. I was fired up from the fight and past the point of being able to reign my rage in.

  To my shock, Coach didn’t tear into me. He just shot me a glare that could have melted the ice in the rink. “I’m there every day.”

  “For Letang’s practices.”

  “So what? You’re jealous I give him more attention?” His lips twisted in a menacing sneer.

  I scoffed. “Maybe if you worked with me more, I wouldn’t have to sit on the bench every single game.”

  He leaned back and stared at me. “So that’s what this is about? You’re sick of staying on the sidelines.”

  I let out a humorless laugh. He was just picking up on that? “Yeah. You all know I can handle it. I did last season.” But the golden child can’t possibly take a day off.

  “We all know you’re a good goalie. You proved that already, but you’re young, Derrek. There’s still a lot you can work on. There’s a lot for you to learn.”

  I groaned. “Why can’t anyone move past my age?”

  He leaned back in his chair and tilted his head up. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m so sick of people fixating on that. So what? I’m twenty-one. If one more person calls me ‘Kid’ I’m going to lose it.”

  He scanned my face silently. Finally, he blew out a breath. “Is that why you punched Elliot?”

  My eyebrows shot up. “How did you know about that?”

  He turned his computer screen to face me. It was a live feed of the ice. “I might not be in the room, but I’m always watching.”

  Then he slid the notebook he had open in front of him toward me. I skimmed the notes and realized it was detailed observations about me and Olli. Things both of us could work on. Ideas on how to improve each of our technique. Shots I let in and how to practice so I didn’t miss them next time.

  “I know you think it’s unfair I work with Olli more, but I’ve only been here for three months. I’m still figuring things out and with how long Olli was out last season, I needed to make sure he was back up to par and comfortable out there. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been watching you. I have a plan in place, but I need you to trust me.”

  I sat back and nodded, some of the anger leaking out of me. It would have been nice if he had told me all of this sooner. I might not have resented him as much, but then again, I could have asked.

  “So now that you know I haven’t forgotten about you, do you want to tell me what the fight was really about?” He rested his hands on the arms of his chair and rocked back and forth waiting for me to answer.

  “I didn’t know this was going to be a therapy session.” Talking about my feelings wasn’t something I wanted to do. Ever.

  “It can be whatever you want it to be. If you feel like you need to talk through things then I’m here for that. If you want to rant about one of the guys, go ahead. If there’s something on your mind that has nothing to do with the game or the team you can tell me. It’s up to you. Nothing you say will leave this room.”

  That was hard to believe. “You wouldn’t tell Romney?”

  He shook his head. “Nope.”

  I let out a sigh.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything, Derrek, but it’s not going to magically disappear. Whatever’s bothering you needs to be resolved.”

  He was right. I just hated it.

  “Fine.” I looked around the room. It was pretty bare. Not as many decorations or trophies as in Coach Ro
mney or Rust’s offices. There were a few of his old jerseys hanging behind him and a picture of what I assumed was his family, and that was it.

  “Well, I’m not a mind reader so you’re going to have to give me something.”

  I looked down at my hands. My right hand was already bruising. Angry red marks glared at me.

  “I’ve been on the team for a year and a half now. I made sure we made it to the finals last season. I played just as well if not better than Olli while he was injured, but I’m still just some dumb kid to them.” Abrams nodded but didn’t cut in. “I’m not even the youngest on the team. I’ve been in the NHL for three years now. Haven’t I paid my dues?” I rubbed my uninjured hand over my face.

  “Are you friends with any of them? I know it’s a close team, and several of them are pretty tight.”

  I shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know if they consider me a friend. They invite me to dinners and some parties, but when I’m there all they do is take jabs at me.”

  “They might think of you like the little brother. Someone they can tease,” he said with a frown.

  “I could handle the teasing if I felt like it was in good fun, but it’s constant. I can’t seem to do or say anything right. They just tear me apart.”

  He rubbed his neck looking down before meeting my eyes. “I’m not condoning them or what they’ve been doing, but I’ve found that sometimes there’s something we’re doing to gain this sort of behavior.”

  “You’re saying I deserve this?” I almost stood and walked out, but he held up his hand.

  “No, I’m not. I would expect better of the team, but you can’t control what they do. You can—”

  “Only control my reaction?” I interrupted. Yeah, I’d heard that a million times, and for the most part I remained calm and unaffected. Until today.

  “No, I was going to say you can only control yourself. Take a second to think about what you’re doing and saying. Is there anything you can change?”

  I know I didn’t do anything to deserve the hit I took in practice. I hadn’t even spoken to anyone today. At dinner the other night I’d kept quiet. I didn’t see how this could be something I brought on myself.