Cold liquid splashed the back of his neck. Startled, he jumped and twisted around. An empty cup clattered to rest beside his skate. The yeasty scent of beer surrounded him.
Behind the glass, two fans smirked at him. One raised his cup in mock-toast. The other flipped Leo off.
Beside him, McSorley stood, and his line mate glared at the fans. "What the hell? They're throwing shit at you?"
Coach Brown hurried from his position at the center of the bench. Shaking his head, he placed his hand on Leo's shoulder. "Let it go. Leo, head to the locker room."
"But..." There were still eight minutes left. Not that he'd be able to concentrate on playing.
"Now."
He grabbed his stick and ambled away from the bench. As he headed into the tunnel, more trash rained down from the fans. Beer, sodas, and an entire container of chicken wings accompanied a chorus of boos. Fighting the urge to rush into the stands and go after the assholes, he wiped splatters of red and brown from his visor and lumbered through the hallway.
The game couldn't end fast enough.
The sooner he got away from Buffalo, the better.
LEO ENTERED THE SEA Lions locker room, exhausted from the day's grueling practice. He had pushed himself hard, trying to take his mind off of the league's impending trade deadline. Tension hung in the air, thickening with every minute. All around him, his teammates were on edge, jumping with every ring of a phone or text alert. The Sea Lions didn't have much of a hope to make the playoffs, and there wasn't a doubt that by the end of the day a few of them would be traded to teams who were looking to shore up their talent or depth at a position in preparation for a playoff run. No one would relax until the deadline passed.
The team had already made two deals earlier in the week, and saying goodbye to those teammates had been almost as hard as saying goodbye to one of his brothers. He tugged on his clothes and then glanced around the room. He was happy here, they had a good group of guys. He'd hate having to say goodbye to anyone else.
Coach Brown walked in, looking grim. All the conversations fell silent. "Leo, the GM wants to see you."
His heart slammed in his chest. No way. No way. His name hadn't even been mentioned in the trade rumors.
He tucked his hands in his pockets, nodded at the guys, and then followed Coach out of the room. As they walked, Leo tried to wrap his head around the fact that he really was the one following Coach to the GM's office and his entire life and career were about to change. "Do you know where I'm going?"
"The GM wants to be the one to let you know." Outside the GM's door, Coach stopped and knocked. "I hate to lose you. But it's for a good reason. You'll be going to a Cup contender."
"Yeah. I know. It's a good thing, right? But I'll miss being here too." He drew in a deep breath, then entered the GM's office.
"Leo," Bruce Ballard stood from behind his massive desk. "Come in."
He waited for Coach to enter first and then shut the door at his back. "So, where am I going?"
Philly would be perfect. Hopefully, it was Philly. He'd always wanted to play for his hometown team, and the opportunity would put him back in the same city as his family.
Bruce leaned on the end of his desk. "You're going to Buffalo."
Shock jumped through his system and his gaze jumped between the two men. "That's not funny."
"It's not a joke."
"But..." He shook his head and dragged his hand through his hair. "Buffalo? They hate me over there."
Hate was a mild term for what he'd seen while scouring the news for updates on Dylan, who was still out of the lineup. "I've been ignoring my social media for the past two weeks because it's been filled with Bedlam fans bashing me for Fraser's concussion."
"Leo, it'll be fine once you score a couple of goals and get in a few hits." Coach patted him on the back. "They'll get over the hit on Fraser."
Bruce leaned closer. "Fraser's being out is one reason they need you. Plus, they lost Yves Paquette last night to an upper body injury and he'll be out for the rest of the season. You can hit and you can score. You'll fill two of their needs."
What could he say? It was a done deal. "All right then."
"This is a good opportunity for you. And for us, we're getting Erik Clark and two draft picks. We're going to be rebuilding here for a while, Leo. Probably longer than you'll be playing." Bruce smiled. "You've done a lot for us over the years and I've had other offers for you come my way these past few weeks. Buffalo will give you the best shot at winning the Cup. I want that for you."
At thirty-six, he didn't have that many years left in the league. Another opportunity to be on a Cup contender might not appear. "I appreciate that. Thank you."
"Someone from the Bedlam will call you today and they'll get you on a flight." Bruce stood and shook his hand. "Good luck."
"I think I'll need it." After shaking hands with Bruce, he hugged Coach, then left both men in the office.
He needed to go home, call his family, and pack. But first, he needed to collect his things from the locker room and say goodbye to his teammates. Heart heavy, he
