"So, what changed? What was so damn important that you were willing to throw it all away for a locker room scrap?"
I looked up at him for the first time since sitting down. He was younger than Coach Rusk, maybe in his mid-forties, and had tired eyes.
"Someone I care about got hurt. It was someone who didn't deserve it."
Coach rubbed his stubbled chin. "The defenseman from Thunder Bay? The one Klondike was running his mouth about?"
I nodded.
"And you figured the best way to handle that was assault?"
"I figured it was the only way that would make him stop."
Monroe sighed and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm. "Riley, I've been coaching for fifteen years. I've seen kids throw away everything for stupider reasons than defending someone they love."
Love. I didn't argue.
"But the organization can't have this kind of conduct. You know that, right? I've got a locker room full of guys who need to trust each other, and you just showed them that you'll snap at the first sign of pressure."
I knew. Of course, I knew. Hockey was a business; businesses didn't keep liabilities around out of good intentions.
"You're benched for the rest of the week," Monroe continued. "Fined five hundred. And at the end of your stint, you're going back to Thunder Bay."
The words didn't hit as hard as I thought they might. There was no surprise or shock.
"I understand."
"Do you?" Monroe leaned forward. "You had something here, kid. Real potential. The kind of hands and hockey sense that don't come around often at this level."
Past tense. Had.
"But raw talent doesn't mean shit if you can't control yourself when it matters. If you can't separate your personal life from your professional one."
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it.
"Nothing to say for yourself?"
"No, sir."
"Get cleaned up. Go back to the hotel. Stay out of trouble for the next week; maybe this won't follow you when you return to Thunder Bay."
I stood, legs steadier than I'd expected. At the door, I paused.
"Coach?"
"Yeah?"
"For what it's worth, I'm not sorry."
Monroe's laugh was sharp and humorless. "Yeah, Riley. That's your problem."
As I headed down the hallway outside of the office, I knew I'd fucked up, yeah. Lost my temper, threw away an opportunity, and proved that Jake Riley couldn't be trusted when things got complicated.
That wasn't all. I'd also done something I'd never done before. I'd put someone else first. Not the crowd, the cameras, or my desperate need for approval.
Evan.
I'd chosen him over my second chance and didn't know what that said about me.
