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"I usually don't give a fck, but you bother me, and I hate that you do."
"What do you plan to do about it, then?"
"What can I do about it?"
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When a devastating injury threatens the career of Terence Ti...
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Fucking Tiles.
What's with him?
Why did he grab my arm like that? And more importantly why couldn't I let go?
And what kind of life has he been living since the accident? No showers? No change of clothes? How did his sister let him live like that? How did his so called family let him live like that?
Screw this, I'm heading to the Krakens facility now. And I need to ditch this ride company and get my own car because it seems I'll be here for a longer period of time than I bargained.
I make my way into the facility and I walk straight through. I head towards the offices and on the door that reads COACH, I barge in without so much as the thought to knock.
West sits there, Coach Mike and the General Manager of the Krakens. Andrade, Nadia's Dad. They all look at me in shock.
"Miss Martins." Andrade stands from his sit and makes his way towards me. "Pleasure to meet you on such......, unfavorable conditions." He smiles. "Please, have a seat." He gestures towards the chairs that lay in the office.
"No need for that, I'll make this quick." I shift my gaze from him to Coach freaking Mike.
"I thought they were like family to you!" I yell. Fuck, this is going all forms of wrong. I never yell. I'm calm, cool, collected and slowly poisonious.
"Yes, they are." Coach Mike answers slowly.
"Then why would you let family go Lord knows how long without a fucking shower or a good meal."
"Terence threatened us when we visited last." West says, rising to his feet. Despite my heels, the able Captain of the Krakens is so much taller than me.
"Threatened?" I breathe. How bad has this gotten?
"Threatened to get suicidal if we continued to visit him." West explains, pain edged on his facial features. Fuck. Was it really just a threat? Or was he serious? Oh fuck.
"I'm seriously debating dropping him." Andrade speaks up. "There's already some discussions within the league, Miss Martins." He pauses with a cocky smile.
"He's a good player, an exceptional goalie, the best in all of the NHL, no goalie is like him-"
"And where is he now? It's a new fucking season already." Andrade says back.
"Give me six months." I hear myself say.
"What?" Andrade tilts his head to the side.
"Six months, you'll have your goalie back and you don't have to drop him." I say again and I mentally slap myself. What the hell I'm I getting into?
"That's quite a long time." He says after a short moment.
"Depression is so much darker than the aesthetics on social media." I fold my arms. "Six months, you can call me when you agree." I place my business card on the table and I come face to face with Coach Mike.
