Chapter 2: “Two Years Later”
Clark’s POV
The locker room was still buzzing from the win. My teammates were slapping my back, tossing compliments like candy.
“Damn, Wayne, you’re on fire this season!” Des roared hit my shoulders lightly in compliment
“You carried us, bro… MVP for sure.”
I grinned, soaking it in, smiling and nodding at each praise. Yeah, I’d earned this.
One by one, they finished packing up and filed out, leaving behind the lingering smell of sweat, liniment, and the faint echo of victory chants.
When the door clicked shut, I turned to my locker. The metal creaked as I swung it open… and there it was.
The First photo of me in the Crownlakers jersey.
For a moment, I just stared. The Crownlakers. Every hockey player’s dream team. The team I’d been this close to playing for… until the fire. After that night, they cut me loose without a word. Even Sarah, my wife… their head doctor, got fired.
Now I am stuck with “The Wales”. Not a bad team… but they weren’t them. They weren’t Crownlakers
With the Crownlakers, I could’ve been the biggest name in LA hockey. My face on billboards and Televisions. My name in every sports headline.
And she ruined it.
Fucking bitch..
Renee Blake…
She’d been nothing but a curse to me ever since I married that bitch.. I should’ve never married her. I should’ve known better. I should have listened to my mother. And the worst part? Her body was never found. Not even on the damn list of deceased guests. No death certificate, No fucking compensation like others got. I couldn’t even collect on the damn Life insurance I created in her name… Everything I and my mother had planned to get just… gone.
Even in death, she was worthless to me.
My fist slammed into the locker. Pain shot up my knuckles, but it felt good… better than the burning in my gut.
The vibration in my pocket snapped me out of it. I pulled out my phone. Sarah’s name lit up the screen.
I let out a slow breath, forcing a smile before I answered. “Hey Honey…”
“Congratulations Baby!” Her voice beamed through the speaker. “I watched the match… you were amazing.”
“All thanks to you, Honey.. I always strive to make you proud… How’s my princess and her grandmother doing? Are they there?”
“Lovie’s with me and she misses her daddy so much. And your mom’s in the kitchen, she’s been asking when you’re coming home, it’s obvious she misses you too… So, Mr. Clark Wayne, when will you be back in LA?”
“Uhhh… I would have really loved to hop on the next available flight to LA tonight but… The team's got a celebration and I cannot afford to miss this one,” I said. “But I’ll be home by noon tomorrow.”
“I miss you so much,” she pouted.
“I miss you too, baby. See you tomorrow.”
We hung up.
The door swung open catching my attention again, I turned to see one of my teammates poking his head in. “Bro, the team’s waiting! We’ve got some parties to crash!”
I chuckled. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
When he left, I pulled another photo from the locker… A family Photo of me, Sarah, Lovie, and my mom. My thumb brushed over their faces.
“I’ll get back to the Crownlakers,” I murmured. “By hook or by crook… for my family.”
I tossed my gear into my duffle and headed out.
Four hours later
The club was loud, the air thick with sweat, booze, and bass. I nursed a drink, half-listening as one of my teammates stood and raised his glass.
“Cheers to making it to the Finals!”
Glasses clinked.
Another voice cut in. “Hold on, hold your horses guys… we need to hold a toast to the MVP… Clark Wayne! This guy’s been killing it in every game of the season. We’re here because of him. To Clark Wayne!”
“To Clark Wayne!” the room roared back.
Yeah. That felt good. My head swelled with it.
But even as the laughter and chatter filled the space, my mind was elsewhere… on the Finals. On the fact we were going up against them.
The Crownlakers.
The Golden Boys of the game.
If I could beat them… like really beat them… they’d notice me again. I’d be back where I belonged. Ten times richer and famous.
Then I heard it.
“That’s the Wales team, the second biggest team in LA” someone whispered behind me. “I heard they won their match today and they’re up against the Crownlakers in the Finals.”
Another voice scoffed. “Owww… They’re no match. Crownlakers have the best players LA’s ever seen.”
“Didn’t they scout Clark Wayne once?” the first voice asked. “He didn’t even make it to the rink because they dropped him out of the blue. I wonder why.”
These words made my insides churn with anger…
The third voice hit like a slap. “Rumor has it that he's a user.. he tested positive before his very first match which was the reason The Crownlakers dropped him. I suspect it’s also the reason behind his winnings with The Wales… he’s juiced up.”
My glass slammed onto the table. I spun around, grabbed the guy by the collar, and shoved him back.
“What did you just say about me?”
Before he could answer, I dived onto him and drove a fist into his jaw. And another.
“Say that again, you bastard!”
Hands grabbed me from behind. My teammates were shouting, trying to pull me off. Eventually, they wrenched me back.
The coach appeared, dragging me toward the bar.
“What the hell are you doing, Clark?!”
“He accused me of being on drugs!” I snapped.
“Good luck proving him wrong after what you just displayed,” he shot back.
My chest tightened. My career flashed in my head… crumbling. I stared around and saw people holding out their cellphones taking a video of the fight…
I pressed a hand to my forehead, swearing under my breath. “Fuck…”
“Now stay right here. Cool the fuck off while I try to fix this mess yoi created,” Coach said, disappearing into the crowd.
I ordered three shots of tequila. Neat. Downed them one after the other.
The phone buzzed in my pocket.. Sarah again. I silenced it. Not now.
I was staring at the bar top when someone slid into the seat next to me.
“What’s got a good-looking man like you looking this gloomy in a club of all places?”
My voice was flat and cold. My eyes, not leaving the counter top “Not interested. Please leave me hell alone.”
“I don’t think I can,” she said, leaning in. “Not when you’re look this down.”
Frustration boiled over. “I said leave me the fuck alone… ”
And then I looked up.
My breath caught.
“Oh… my world…” I whispered.
