THE COACH (PLAYED Book 4)

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THE COACH (PLAYED Book 4) Page 6

by Marita A. Hansen

“Your eye twitches when you lie.”

  I threw my hands up in the air. “Think what you want, you always do.”

  “Because I’m right,” she growled. “Why didn’t you tell me about him? You told me about all of your other lovers.”

  I clenched my jaw, shame silencing me.

  “How old was he when you started?” she croaked out, well aware of how long I’d coached Daniel.

  “The one condition I had with getting back with you was that you didn’t interfere with my relationships.”

  “Not when it involves a boy!”

  “He’s eighteen.”

  “From the way you’re acting, it clearly started earlier. So... I’ll ask you one more time, how old was he?”

  “None of your goddamned business!”

  “It is if I’m living with a sex offender!”

  I slammed my hands against the table. “Keep your voice down, woman,” I growled, aware that Trudy could come back at any moment.

  “Or what? You’ll choke me like the last time I angered you? And even though you deserve to go to jail for this, I won’t report you. I couldn’t do that to Trudy. Did you even consider what this would do to her?”

  “I only just found out about her interest in Daniel.”

  “I wasn’t talking about that, I was referring to what would happen if people found out, which is another reason why Daniel needs to leave.”

  “No, he’s staying. End of discussion!”

  She glared at me, looking the most furious I’d ever seen her. I met her gaze head on, not willing to back down on this.

  “Fine!” she spat. “Just make sure Trudy never finds out.”

  I nodded for her benefit, knowing it would come out eventually, just not here or now, and especially not in this backwater town.

  Carol waved her hand at me dismissively. “Go to your gym, you might as well sleep there too, because I don’t want to see you for the rest of the night, if not the week. Fuck him there, not on our property.”

  “I already told you I’m not going to the gym for sex. I offered to coach Riley Jamison in boxing,” I said, using the boy to steer her attention away from Daniel.

  Her eyes went big. “Riley’s straight!”

  “For God’s sake, I’m just training the kid,” I spat, fed up with her.

  “After what you’ve said about Daniel, I don’t believe you.”

  “I’ve come clean, so why would I lie about this?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You lied before I forced it out of you.”

  “Not in regards to Riley.”

  “I don’t care, swear on your mother’s grave that you won’t touch him like Daniel.”

  “I’m not interested in him in that way, I know he’s straight.”

  “Swear!”

  “Okay! I swear on my mother’s and father’s graves that I won’t touch him. I wouldn’t have anyway, he’s purely a dollar sign to me, you annoying woman.”

  “I’m not the annoying one! You are! And Riley’s into hockey, that’s where his future lies, not boxing.”

  “Not if I have anything to do with it. I have no intention of staying a wrestling coach forever. I want to be a boxing coach, and Riley could be my ticket out of this backwater town.”

  “You’re dreaming. He’s a hockey player through and through. Get Daniel to change sports, he’s basically a carbon copy of Riley.”

  “Not emotionally. Riley’s more focused. That boy could do anything if he puts his mind to it.”

  “Not every sportsperson can box.”

  “Fighting is in that boy’s blood. I’ve seen his father in underground matches. That man is vicious, bloodthirsty to the point of madness, and although he isn’t Riley’s biological father, he’s clearly passed down those skills. That boy is a powerhouse in the rink, smashing big players up against the side like they’re nothing. And that time he knocked that player down with one punch was pure art.”

  “Daniel beat him the other day.”

  “Sucker punching someone doesn’t count. He hit him from behind like a coward. He wouldn’t have gotten away with that if he’d come at Riley head on. Riley’s powerful, and I want to control that power, using it to set us up for life,” I said, because if I was right, the boy was going to make us all very rich.

  “I don’t think you’ll succeed. He’s hockey mad.”

  “A broken leg will fix that.”

  Her eyes went massive. “No, Mike! You can’t do that!”

  I chuckled. “I’m joking.”

  “It didn’t sound like it!”

  “Jeez, you take things so seriously. We haven’t even had the first training session yet. For all I know, I could be wrong about him, although I’m pretty sure I’m not.”

  “He’s had a concussion, it’s not safe for him to box right now.”

  “That won’t be a problem. I’ll start him off with some bag work as well as shadow boxing.”

  “I still don’t want you jeopardizing his hockey career. Everyone says he’s the real deal. Don’t ruin it for the kid, no amount of money is worth that.”

  “I won’t ruin anything; I’ll only make things better.”

  “So, you won’t break his leg?”

  “Of course not, I already said I was joking.”

  She breathed out, the woman gullible. But then again, if I didn’t have to sabotage Riley’s hockey career I wouldn’t. I just needed to talk him around, and I would, because I was right. The boy was born to box, just like his dad, Psycho Pete.

  9

  RILEY

  I walked toward the gym, noticing a closed sign on the door. Though, the lights were on, a beacon in the middle of the industrial sector. I pulled out my phone, texting Coach Cassidy that I was here. When he didn’t reply, I went to text again, but stopped as the door opened, Coach Cassidy smiling out at me.

  “Come on in,” he said, stepping aside for me.

  I did just that, my attention instantly zeroing in on the boxing rink, followed by the long line of boxing bags.

  “You’re even dressed right,” he added, glancing at my sweats.

  I went to say duh, it’s a gym, but stopped myself in time.

  He continued, “You’d be surprised what some people turn up in. Common sense is rarer than you think. Anyway, I hope you’re a chip off the old block, because your father’s a fantastic boxer.”

  I put my gym bag down, surprised he knew that my dad boxed... well, he was more of an MMA fighter now, but he’d originally started off as a boxer. Still, not many knew about my dad’s side job since he usually fought outside of town, his matches not exactly legal.

  “I saw him fight a few times,” Coach Cassidy continued. “The first time was in Wisconsin. I was out there for a wrestling tournament. A fellow coach told me about the best fighter he’d ever seen, talking me into going to a match. I was rather surprised when I saw your dad, and even more surprised when I found out he was the fighter in question. He was spectacular in the cage, decimating a man twice his size, so vicious it was a miracle he didn’t kill the guy.”

  I smiled, proud of my dad.

  Coach Cassidy laughed. “Looks like you’ve inherited his bloodthirsty streak. I’ve seen you act the same way out on the ice. It doesn’t matter whether your opponents are bigger, you always take them down.”

  “I do what I gotta do to win,” I said.

  “Which is fantastic. Many people lack that drive, which is why they fall at the last hurdle. Whereas you... as long as you don’t get injured, you’ll have a very successful career.”

  I frowned at the injured comment, always concerned about that.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, “if you ever hurt yourself to the point where you can’t continue with hockey, you can turn to boxing. It’s good to have a backup plan.”

  I didn’t reply, never having considered having a backup, hockey having been my sole focus, my golden ticket out of poverty. Plus, I loved it, whereas boxing...

  “What my dad does is
more MMA,” I said.

  “He still fought like a trained boxer, just with an extra oomph. I’m guessing that’s where he started off, adding new skills on top. If you prefer MMA, that’s something you can do too, using boxing as a foundation.” He walked over to a row of shelves containing hand wraps, returning with them. “You know how to use these?”

  “Yup,” I said, my dad having taught me. I took them off him and wound them around my hands, then reached for the gloves he’d walked off to get, a smile on his face. “What?’ I asked.

  “You really are a born boxer. I tried with Daniel, but he’s too soft, not to mention temperamental. He just doesn’t have it in him. Whereas you could go all the way to the top in both hockey and boxing.”

  “I don’t have time to do both,” I said, not interested in talking about Daniel.

  “You can, you just need to manage your time right. You also need to learn how to fight smart, building up your knowledge like you’ve done with hockey.”

  “Maybe if Coach Cameron wasn’t such a slave driver, I might,” I replied, the man wearing me out to the point where it was hard to think about anything but hockey, this forced break actually doing me good. I didn’t feel so exhausted lately, also managing to do other things I normally wouldn’t have had the time for. It just made what Melissa had said about me hit home even more, hockey consuming my life. I might love the game with a passion, but I didn’t like what it had done to my relationship with her.

  “Why the frown?” Coach Cassidy asked.

  I exhaled. “Girl issues.”

  “As in Brooke Cameron issues?”

  “No, she’s a pain in my neck, but not the main problem.”

  “Then what is, the Lucy girl?”

  “No, an ex wants me back.”

  “Do you want her back?”

  “Not after she cheated on me with Daniel. He fucked her to get back at me.”

  Coach Cassidy shook his head. “He’s a vindictive boy, the type that’ll cut off his nose to spite his face. He really does need to be put in his place at times. Anyway, how about you take your anger toward him and your ex out on the bags.”

  I nodded, here to do precisely that. I headed for the closest bag and went to work, doing everything my father had taught me, uppercuts, hooks, dirty shots that belonged in a cage not a boxing rink, along with some kicks added to the mix.

  The coach laughed behind me, drawing my attention back to him. His hazel eyes twinkled at me. “Looks like boxing might be too clean for you, after all. Although it isn’t my specialty, I do know a bit about MMA. If it suits you better, we can veer off in that direction once we’ve built up some important boxing skills. Are you happy with that?”

  I nodded again.

  He patted my back. “No problem, MMA is just as big as boxing, if not more so nowadays, so I’m happy to adapt to whatever you want.”

  “Cool,” I said, my dad too busy to train me.

  Coach Cassidy gave me a big smile. “I think we’re going to get on real well, Riley.”

  10

  RILEY

  I thanked Coach Cassidy, the lift home appreciated, the guy nicer than I’d originally thought. Zuko constantly complained about what a bastard he was, that he picked on him, but then again, he complained about other teachers too, none of them liking him. If there was a grade for detention, Zuko would’ve gotten an A+.

  “Same time next week?” Coach Cassidy asked. “Or are you free on the weekend? I might be able to grab some free time early Saturday.”

  I nodded. “Yah, I’m free. Coach Cameron won’t even let me watch practice let alone the game. He says I’m likely to skate out onto the ice if he turns his back.”

  “Would you?”

  “Most definitely.”

  Coach Cassidy laughed, patting me on the shoulder. “That’s true dedication. I wish I had more students like you. Sport is king, everything else comes second, even annoying wives and wayward daughters.”

  I raised a brow at that, but didn’t comment.

  He retracted his hand, his laughter dying out. “Keep this between us. I don’t want anyone finding out I’m training you.”

  “’Cause of Daniel?”

  “As well as your coach. He has a habit of using threats to get what he wants, like today when he threatened to get Daniel kicked off my team just because I wanted to give Zuko a detention. I can only imagine what he’d do if he thinks I’m poaching you. I have enough on my plate without him causing me more issues.”

  “No problem,” I replied, knowing Coach Cameron would bust my balls too.

  His smile returned. “Thanks.”

  I nodded and climbed out, giving him a wave as he drove off, then headed up my path, surprised to see my dad’s car in the driveway. It was rare for him to be home this early, the hours he worked long, and that was without the fights. Maybe he didn’t have one tonight.

  As soon as I stepped inside, my dad called out my name, his voice coming from the lounge. I entered it, finding him sitting on the couch, his expression stern, his bruises having faded.

  “Sit,” he said, no hello or how are you doing?

  I did, wondering what this was about.

  He stared at me hard for a few seconds before finally speaking. “Where were you tonight? Who was that dropping you off? And you better not say it was your coach. You heard what the doctor said. No hockey for ten days.”

  “It wasn’t Coach Cameron, it was Coach Cassidy,” I replied, instantly realizing I’d let the cat out of the bag. Then again, Dad could keep a secret.

  His brows pulled together. “Why is the wrestling coach dropping you off? Isn’t he that Greene kid’s coach?”

  “Yah, which is why you can’t tell anyone. Coach Cassidy offered to train me in boxing, then changed his mind when he saw some of my kicks. He thinks I could make a good MMA fighter—”

  “The hell you will!” he cut me off before I could say like you. “I didn’t sacrifice everything for you to follow in my footsteps! You’re a hockey player, not a fighter, and you can’t afford to get hit in the head.”

  “Chill, Dad, it was just training, no fighting involved. It’s keeping me active while I’m off hockey. As soon as I’m in the clear, it’ll take a backseat.”

  “Does that mean you’re gonna continue with it?”

  “Only to let off a bit of steam, nothing more.”

  “I don’t think Coach Cassidy will see it that way. He’s not the type of man to offer things for free, he’ll be trying to convert you.”

  “I know, but he’s not pressuring me. He just wants to gimme a taste of what boxing and MMA is like.”

  “You know what MMA is like. Brutal. Look at my face, son, this isn’t an easy sport.”

  “Hockey isn’t either. I never thought I’d say this, but it’s nice to have a break from getting my balls busted by Coach Cameron. Coach Cassidy doesn’t bark at me like that prick does.”

  “Careful, son, respect is key.”

  “Respect should be earned, not a God given right. I’m sick of him yelling at me whenever the team does something he doesn’t like. He should be yelling at them.”

  “You’re the captain.”

  “While he’s the coach, and sometimes a shitty one. If he was more like Coach Cassidy, I wouldn’t want to smash his face in.”

  Dad snorted out a laugh. “Maybe you do need to let off some steam.”

  “You bet I do. I could also do a few fights to help out with cash.”

  He shook his head. “No. Cage fighting isn’t the same, it’s no holds barred. The young ones go down hard and fast, brain damage a real danger, death a possibility. You stick to what you’re good at, hockey. I don’t mind you having a bit of fun on the side with gym-based MMA, but not for money. Understand?”

  I nodded, not happy about it but relenting.

  “Good boy.” He pushed to his feet. “I’m off to bed, need to catch up on some sleep. I’ve got a fight tomorrow night, so wanna be primed for it.”

  “If
I don’t see you, good luck.”

  A smile broke through his worn out expression. “No luck needed, I’ve got this one in the bag. Maybe I’ll let you tag along since you don’t have training, show you how brutal it really is, not some watered down version taught to you by a failed boxer like Mike Cassidy. You won’t think it’s all fairy tales and dollar signs after that.”

  “I’d love to watch you fight. Coach Cassidy said you’re brilliant.”

  A frown fell over his face. “How would he know?”

  “He’s seen a few of your matches.”

  Dad grunted, not looking happy about it. “I don’t want people in town knowing what I do.”

  “Don’t worry, he won’t talk, he thinks you’re great.”

  “The feeling isn’t mutual. He better not open his mouth or I’ll find out whether he really does have a glass jaw.” He left the threat hanging in the air and headed out of the lounge, his footsteps disappearing up the staircase.

  My phone beeped, capturing my attention. I pulled it out of my pocket, finding a text from Lucy.

  Mom said you came over, she wrote. I’m sorry I lied about being home. I was upset and went for a walk, needing to think. I just have to learn to ignore Brooke.

  I typed out a reply, I’ll help you. I really do like you, Lucy, which is why Brooke is trying so hard to put me off you. But she can’t. I pressed send, getting a smiley face in return.

  Another text came through a few seconds later. Thanks. Let’s start fresh tomorrow. I’ll ignore Brooke. Actually, no, I’m going to rub our relationship in her face, turning things around on HER.

  I smiled, That’s the spirit.

  Another smiley face came through. Sweet dreams, Riley, hope I’ll be in them, because you’ll be in mine.

  Except mine will be X rated. I laughed, pressing send.

  A laughing emoji came my way, along with a kissing one.

  I gave her a kiss emoji back, then turned off my phone, heading for my room. I dumped my bag and stripped off, taking a quick shower. Once done, I climbed into bed, feeling good for the first time in a long while, Lucy and Coach Cassidy putting a smile on my face.

  ***

  I woke up, that smile returning, the memory of last night putting me in a good mood. Though, my body didn’t agree as I climbed out of bed, my muscles rebelling. I grimaced, not understanding why my body was so sore. Then it dawned on me. MMA worked different parts of the body than hockey did, the realization wiping the grimace off my face, knowing my body would soon adapt. It just showed that Coach Cassidy worked me hard, but in a good way, his coaching style better than Coach Cameron’s. Brooke’s dad wasn’t someone I wanted as a coach in the long run. I didn’t mind hard work, but what I did mind was him pulling me up in front of the team when it was them who’d let me down, not the other way around. Regardless, the coach wasn’t soft on them either, he was just a million times harder on me, and for no good reason, his way of thinking hard to understand at times.

 

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