Anton (Chicago Blaze 1)

“Head home, kid,” Janice says. “I’ve got it from here.”

My shoulders sink with fatigue. “Okay, thanks.”

I button up my coat and pull my stocking cap down over my ears before leaving the bar. The walk home, in the dark, is always cold.

A few random snowflakes float down around me as I make the familiar trek past closed-down shops and businesses, passing the occasional homeless person huddled beneath a blanket.

There’s no place like Chicago. The bright lights and city smell are a comfort to me. With my grandma now gone, and my grandpa sick, I don’t have the house I grew up in to call home anymore. The city itself feels like a longtime loved one to me.

It’s after three in the morning when I walk up the two flights of stairs to the apartment I share with a single mom and her young son. I unlock the deadbolt with a key on my ring, sighing softly as I close the door behind me.

I’m home. Well, home-ish. Anita was looking for a roommate nine months ago, at a time when I was flat broke and desperate to find a place to stay. She’s working her way through law school and was struggling financially, so the room I rent from her is actually her son Dre’s. Now Dre sleeps in her room.

When I drop my backpack on the table and walk into the darkened kitchen for some water, I see a note on the fridge, the words written in bold black caps:

GROCERIES ARE NOT INCLUDED IN YOUR RENT!!! DON’T TOUCH MY CHEESE! BUY YOUR OWN CHEESE!

Rolling my eyes at the note, I take a glass from the dish drainer and fill it half full of tap water, drink it, and then rinse out the glass and return it to the drainer.

I didn’t touch Anita’s fucking cheese. I don’t even eat here. Last week she accused me of stealing her toothpaste, which I also didn’t do. Her kid hides shit and we both know it.

But at least when I close the door to my bedroom, I have a spot that’s just mine. It’s maybe eighty square feet and the radiator makes clanging noises that wake me up, but it’s mine.

Adam has never come here. I hope he doesn’t even know where I live.

I’m too tired to brush my teeth and wash my face. Instead, I crawl into bed still wearing all my clothes and fall fast asleep within minutes.Chapter FourAntonNothing compares to the adrenaline rush of game days, but I’ve got a thing for practices, too. When the rink is quiet, and you only hear the whoosh of skate blades on ice and sticks hitting the rink, it’s pretty damn zen to me.

Then there’s the occasional eruption from all of us when someone makes a nice play, like just now when Victor shot the puck across the ice like a bullet.

Vic and Luca are my wingers, and I hope like hell they both stay healthy, because we work together like a well-oiled machine.

On our break, we all grab water bottles and sit down.

“How’s it going, man?” I ask Luca.

“Okay.”

“Kids doing good?”

“No one’s in juvie yet.” A smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

The past year has been a crash course in fatherhood for Luca. His brother died serving in Afghanistan a couple years ago, so Luca moved his sister-in-law and his brother’s three kids into his house so he could help. Not long after, his sister-in-law was diagnosed with an aggressive pancreatic cancer and she passed away within a year. Luca was granted custody and is raising the kids now.

“Hey man, that’s something,” I tell him.

“How come you never ask us to babysit?” Vic elbows Luca as he asks. “We’re fuckin’ awesome babysitters.”

I nod. “I could teach ‘em all how to make torches out of aerosol cans.”

“We’ll juggle knives and brew beer with ‘em,” Vic adds. “Maybe watch some porn.”

Luca can’t help laughing at that. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Seriously,” I remind him for at least the dozenth time, “let us know if you need anything.”

There’s a collective yell as Adam and Knox battle for the puck, both of them giving it everything they’ve got. Seeing Adam makes me think of seeing Mia last night—not that I’ve stopped thinking about it for more than a minute at a time since then.

“What’s going on with Adam?” I ask Luca and Vic.

“What do you mean?” Luca turns my way.

I shrug and come up with something. “He just seems off.”

“He banged two strippers last night,” Vic says. “Probably tired.”

A wave of disgust hits. I’ve always known Adam didn’t deserve Mia. He cheats on her like it’s nothing. But I never knew whether she knew about it. Now, for the first time, I have hope that maybe she finally left him. And that means…

I shut the thought down immediately. It’s a cardinal violation of the bro code to lust after your buddy’s wife or ex-wife. Even worse when he’s your teammate. I’m the captain of the Chicago Blaze and I have to stay above reproach. If it even got out that I have feelings for Mia, whether I ever acted on them or not, it would divide our team in an ugly way.