Dirty Pucker (Denver Bashers #2)

22. Del

Chapter 22

Del

I stand in the Bandits media room, surrounded by reporters.

“Del, how do you feel about getting kicked out of the game not even five minutes into the second period? Do you feel like that was a fair call?”

“I don’t think it matters what I think. What happened, happened,” I say as I wipe the sweat from my brow.

I exhale and try not to sound too irritated. I’ve never liked post-game press, but it’s something we all have to do. The reporters need quotes for their stories and we as players need to show that we’re willing to have a pleasant back-and-forth with the sports media.

And I’m fine with doing all that, but sometimes reporters ask the dumbest shit. Or they try to get under your skin and ask stuff that they know will piss you off. It’s annoying as fuck.

When Coach Porter told me I was up for post-game press, I knew it was because he was pissed at me for the fight I got into with Crowley. Clearly he wants me to deal with the consequences of what I pulled during the game, and getting hounded by reporters is part of that.

“The Bandits scored another goal not long after you were kicked out,” another reporter says. “That pretty much solidified the lead for them. Do you think the Bashers’ loss lands squarely on your shoulders?”

I grit my teeth and take a second before I speak. I don’t want to sound as annoyed as I feel.

“There are a lot of things that happen during a game that lead to both a loss and a win,” I say. “I don’t know if it’s fair to say that one thing caused the result of tonight’s game.”

The reporter looks disappointed at my generic-as-fuck answer.

“Do you think you’ll get suspended for what you did?”

“I hope not, but if that’s what ends up happening, then I’ll accept that decision.”

“Is there bad blood between you and Owen Crowley?” A reporter standing in front of me asks. “The way you hit him looked personal.”

I purse my lips. No fucking way I’m getting into that in a room full of reporters.

“This is hockey. Tough hits happen sometimes.”

“But you said something to him right after you hit him, as you were standing over him,” that same reporter says. “What did you say?”

“That’s not for you or anyone else to know.”

Things wrap up a few minutes later. I walk out of the press room with Theo and Xander, who were also answering media questions.

“You handled that like a champ,” Theo says.

“Thanks,” I mutter.

We walk back to the locker room to get cleaned up. Coach Porter walks in.

“Richards. A word. Now.”

I nod and walk over to him, preparing myself for the ass-chewing he’s about to give me. In front of the team, no less.

He’s doing it to make an example out of me, and I get it.

I follow him to the far end of the visitor locker room.

He frowns at me, his gaze hard. “The department of player safety is scheduled to meet to discuss whether or not you should be suspended for that hit on Crowley. You could be out for a few games for that.”

“I understand.”

He narrows his gaze at me, crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought I made it clear that I’m not going to tolerate dirty hits like that from a player on my team.”

I hesitate before I speak. I don’t want to explain why I did it. Not because I’m embarrassed, but because it involves Ingrid, and I don’t want her dragged into this. She had nothing to do with any of this. And I don’t want it getting back to her, what Crowley said about her. I’m sure it would upset her, and I can’t stand the thought of her feeling that way.

“I understand, Coach. And I’m sorry. Really sorry. It won’t happen again.”

He stares at me, quiet for a long moment. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

I open my mouth, but again I hesitate.

“Your future on this team is on the line,” Coach Porter says. “If this behavior continues, don’t expect to be here for very long.”

A familiar panic flashes in my gut. I hold back, prepared to stay quiet. But after a few seconds, my anxiety wins out.

I can’t jeopardize my standing with my new team. I need to come clean to Coach Porter.

“The reason I hit Crowley is because he made a joke about sexually assaulting Ingrid.”

Porter’s brow hits his hairline. “He what?”

“He, um, he said some pretty graphic and disgusting things about what he was going to do to her…” I trail off, the acid in my stomach curdling just thinking about it.

“Are you fucking kidding?” Theo says behind me.

I look around and see that the entire locker room is looking at me. Half of them look enraged. The other half look like they’re about to be sick.

I focus on Theo, who looks like he’s gonna punch a hole through the wall.

I clear my throat. “I’m not.”

I turn back to Coach Porter. He works his jaw. “Well, that certainly changes things.”

My head hangs as I glance at the floor, upset that I had to mention Ingrid, that I had to pull her into this shittiness.

But I can’t lose my spot on this team, not because of a misunderstanding.

Porter looks off to the side and shakes his head before looking back at me. “That hit wasn’t so dirty, then. It was pretty damn well deserved.” He nods once. “We don’t have an issue.”

Relief flashes through me. His support means everything right now.

“I can’t say that the department of player safety will be so sympathetic though,” he says.

“That’s fine. I’ll take a suspension if that’s what they decide.”

Coach Porter pats my shoulder before turning to address the team. “Trash-talking on the ice is fine. It’s part of the game. But I won’t stand for the kind of talk that Crowley apparently takes part in. Especially when it’s targeting someone from our organization.”

Everyone in the room nods in agreement.

He says a few words about tonight’s loss but leaves things on a determined note.

“I hate losing. You all know that,” Coach Porter says from the center of the locker room. “But it’s one loss. One loss in a sea of victories. Take that frustration and disappointment and channel it into something useful. I wanna see you fight like hell at our next game.”

We all say we will. He walks out of the locker room.

Theo walks up to me. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

He’s quiet for a second. He tugs a hand through his sweaty hair. “That’s fucked up what Crowley did.”

“Yeah. It was.”

He rests his hands on his hips. “Thanks for standing up for my cousin.”

I nod.

“I’ve got your back. We all do,” Theo says.

Xander and Blomdahl and the rest of the team look over from their spots in the locker room and nod in agreement.

“Thanks.” I clear my throat. “Just please don’t tell Ingrid, okay? She doesn’t know about any of this and I don’t want to upset her.”

They all agree not to say anything.

Theo claps my shoulder before walking off. Xander gives me a nod. So does Blomdahl.

They start to walk off, but I tell Xander to hang on.

“I, uh, need to apologize to you,” I say.

He frowns. “For what?”

“For what an asshole I was to you when I made that joke about your sex tape.”

Xander blinks and that hard look in his eyes returns.

Everything in me wants to stop talking and walk away. I’m uncomfortable as fuck, but I deserve to feel like this. I did a messed-up thing and I need to make this right.

“What I did was fucked up. You didn’t deserve that. I’m really sorry.”

He blinks and that hard look in his eyes begins to fade.

“I don’t expect you to accept my apology,” I say. “I just want you to know that I regret what I said. If I could take it back, I would. And you have every right to hate me for it.”

His eyes widen the slightest bit, like he’s surprised. He nods once. I’m quiet for a second. That uncomfortable feeling fades. Now I just feel awkward standing there, staring at him.

I start to walk off, but Xander stops me. I turn to him.

“It’s okay. We’re good,” he says.

He heads back to his locker. I head back to mine. As I get cleaned up, my body feels lighter. There’s an ease I feel now that I’ve apologized to Xander and we’ve cleared the air.

I think about how when I joined this team weeks ago, everyone hated me. They all have my back tonight though. They support me, even though what I did to Crowley screwed up how we played and probably cost us the game.

I realize that this is the first time I’ve felt like part of this team. It’s the one highlight of this shitty night.