Chapter 5: Banned

Clark’s POV

I woke up feeling messed up. My head was pounding, and I was in a room I didn’t even remember how I got into.

I sat up taking in my environment as I tried to think, tried to piece it all together, and then it began to come back in fragments… the beautiful lady from last night had brought me here… then that kiss.

The moans filled my head… I had sex with a fucking stranger.

“Shit…” I hit my hand hard against the bed, scolding myself. I cheated on Sarah…

Before I could think further, my phone rang. I grabbed it, and it was my coach.

“Where the hell are you, Clark?!” he yelled the second I picked up. “Do you even know what’s happening? Your Videos from last night are blowing up online, someone leaked it to the media and the state is already calling for your doping test.”

My eyes widened, my stomach dropping. Testing? Damn it. I had filled my system with alcohol last night. But nothing in the rules said I couldn’t take a few glasses, especially since I do not have any matches until the next 2weeks…

But what If it comes out wrong, I’d be benched. And if I got benched… fuck… that would be the end of my career.

I tried to talk, but the coach cut me off. “Get yourself down to the airport immediately if you don’t want to miss your flight.!”

The call ended, and I slammed my phone onto the bed in frustration.. why couldn’t I have ignored those bastards.. I was being so damn stupid. I reluctantly took a shower then gathered my things and left the hotel in a rush, panic gnawing at my insides.

The flight back home was tense… dead silence filling the air for the entire Wales team. We were supposed to return in joy of our victory but now nobody was speaking. Nobody even looked at me. We looked like we were in mourning.

As soon as we landed in L.A., there were officials from the LA Hockey team waiting for us. The second I approached, they walked straight up to me.

“Clark Wayne, we’re from the LA’s Hockey team, and we’d love for you to come with us to your hearing.”

I looked around. The airport was flooded with a crowd… phones raised, cameras flashing, videos being recorded. My jaw tightened. I didn’t say a word. I just walked with them to the car, my mind completely messed up.

This was it. I knew it. But hell if I was going to stand back and just watch my career go down the drain.

We arrived at the Hockey Team Laboratory, and they took my test. I was told to wait an hour for the results, so I sat there in the lobby with my head in my hands, my whole demeanor drained and broken.

Then my phone rang. I looked down at it—Sarah.

What could I even say to her? That I’d failed? That I’d brought disappointment crashing down on her? This wasn’t the life I promised her.

Before I could answer, a lady walked up to me. “The council would like to see you now.”

My feet refused to move at first. My mind had already left my body. I was sure I wouldn’t test positive but something in me was living in the possibility of “What if’s”.

I finally stood and walked into the room. Officials filled the space, their eyes cold and sharp. My coach sat at the far end, his expression weighed down with sadness. He shook his head slowly.

I knew my fate was hanging by a thread.

“Clark Wayne,” one of the officials read, “your test came back positive for a few Testosterone boosters. We hereby place you on a temporary ban. You are not allowed to play at the finals. You will be sent to a rehabilitation center for therapy, and you will have a redo of the test in six months. If you are found positive of any drug again, your ban will be upgraded to permanent.”

“Wait… What?!” I shot up from my seat, rage flooding me. “That’s bullshit… I’ve never touched drugs in my life! All I had last night was Alcohol, and you know damn well that’s no Testosterone boosters. This has to be a mistake! I demand a re-testing”

My coach lowered his gaze, refusing to meet my eyes. “Sit down, Clark, please don’t make this any harder” he muttered.

“No! You know me! Tell them, Coach… you’ve worked with me for two years. You know I’d never do drugs. Never.” My voice cracked with desperation.

He finally looked at me, sadness etched deep in his face. “We can put in an appeal, Clark… but it won’t be heard until after the finals.”

The words hit harder than any punch. After the finals. My chest caved in. That meant I was out of the biggest game of my life… the one chance I had to be noticed by the CrownLakers, the dream I’d worked toward since I first held a hockey stick. Crushed before it even began.

Chairs scraped back, officials stood up and filed out one by one. My coach was the last. He stopped beside me, his hand pressing heavy on my shoulder.

“Come on. Let’s get you home. You can’t drive in this condition.”

I stood in silence and followed him.

Outside, reporters swarmed, flooding me with questions, cameras flashing, but security shoved them back as I slipped into Coach’s car.

Inside, I said nothing. My eyes stayed fixed on the window as the world blurred past… cars, houses, people. All meaningless.

When we pulled up at my house, I finally managed to whisper, “Thanks, Coach,” before I stepped inside.

The sight that greeted me nearly broke me… Sarah, standing there with Lovie in her arms.

She ran to me, her voice trembling. “What’s all this on the news, honey? Did you really use drugs? Why?”

Her words slammed into me. My face turned sharply toward hers, disbelief cutting through my chest like glass. Her? Of all people?

I could take it if the whole world didn’t believe me. But my wife? The woman I’d loved my whole life.. even killed to be with?.

Rage boiled hot in my veins. I gave her a look filled with disgust and brushed past her, straight into our room, locking the door behind me.

My duffel hit the floor with a dull thud. I walked to the dresser and stared into the mirror. The man staring back was broken, a shell of who he once was.

“A messed-up man,” I whispered bitterly.

With one savage sweep, I knocked everything off the dresser… the mirror shattering, shards flying everywhere. My roar ripped from my throat as I slammed my fists into the wall again and again, pain ripping through my knuckles until blood ran down my hand.

Finally, I collapsed onto the floor, staring at the crimson blood dripping down my skin.

But no wound on my body compared to the way my heart bled.