Silas
Coach kept his post-game talk short after their eight-to-three win against the Vipers. Once he was done, Silas had jumped up from his seat and rushed out of the locker room and onto the arena for the post-game autograph session. He was the first player on the field, and even though long tables and chairs were already set up in the center, he’d have to wait for everyone else to come out before it could begin.
Signing stuff for fans wasn’t the reason for his urgency. His motivations were entirely selfish. Silas wanted to see Miriam—especially since she’d disappeared after the first quarter. Throughout the game, his eyes kept going to the floor seats reserved for office staff, and every time he was met with Harris’ murderous expression.
As much as Silas had wanted to run over to Harris at halftime and demand to know what happened to Miriam, he had to keep his head in the game. But now the game was over.
Silas’ eyes continued to scan the arena, stopping momentarily where security was holding fans back until they were ready. There were over a hundred people gathered there waiting for the buzzer to sound. Once it went off, kids—and some hardcore adults—would run across the field in a crazed rush to get shirts, jerseys and soccer balls signed by all the players who showed up for the session.
Having no luck with finding Miriam in the crowd, Silas took a seat at the end of one of the tables. He played with the black permanent marker in front of him while he waited for the rest of the players to come out.
Finn flopped down in the seat next to him. “Don’t think that just because you got a hat trick tonight, that I’m going to start singing your praises.”
Silas gave him a tight smile. He knew it would take more than three goals to earn his way back into everyone’s good graces. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I don’t trust you.”
Silas kept his eyes trained on the marker as he twirled it around. “What am I going to do, break my contract with the Storm?”
Finn snorted. “I’m sure if the right team came along offering the right price, you’d find a way.”
He wouldn’t leave this time. Even if he wanted to, contracts were pretty iron-clad. He’d asked a lawyer in Wisconsin to look it over after the first year playing for the Wolves. Silas had wanted to know if it was possible to leave before his two-year term was finished, and the answer had been a resounding no. The only possible out was an injury that would bench him for most of the season. The team might have let him go then, but Silas wasn’t willing to risk not playing for a slight chance to break contract.
Silas sighed. “You act like players don’t sign with other teams all the time.”
“It was different, and you know it.”
“Hey, guys.” Bastian put himself between Silas and Finn. “They’re about to let fans onto the field.” He looked down at Finn and jerked his chin toward the other end of the table. “Why don’t you go down there so we keep this fun for everyone.”
Bastian and Finn stared at each other.
Finn obviously wanted to stay and give Silas more grief about his betrayal, but he conceded and stood up. He gave Silas one last hard look before he walked down to the other end of the table grumbling something not so nice under his breath.
Bastian occupied the seat Finn vacated. “Give him some time. He’ll eventually come around.”
Silas looked over at him. “Does that mean you’ve forgiven me?”
“For signing with the Wolves and leading them to the top of the division with a record-scoring season?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” The words themselves were harsh, but Bastian’s tone was gentle.
Silas lifted his brows hoping his teammate would elaborate. When he didn’t immediately speak, Silas turned his attention back to the marker in his hands.
Bastian grabbed it. “I know we all make mistakes, but yours was pretty bad.”
“I signed for another team. That’s not some grievous act,” he said, though he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. Silas was fully aware of how this was completely different. He turned his head and watched as a few more office staff, including Harris, walked onto the field.
“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that.”
“Whatever.” Silas snatched the marker back. He wished that he could pretend like the whole thing never happened.
The buzzer sounded through the arena, and the crowd came rushing forward. A bunch of kids stood in line in front of him hoping to get his signature. Silas smiled and chatted with each of them as they took turns turning around so that he could sign the backs of their shirts.
A few other children brought soccer balls that were covered with names by the time they worked their way down the table of players. Silas enjoyed interacting with the kids the most. They didn’t care about the drama of his past. They didn’t know the choices he’d made two years ago. Getting caught up talking with the younger fans, he almost managed to stop thinking about Miriam—or trying to catch her walking around.
“Do you play?” Silas asked the boy standing in front of him as he signed his ball. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine.
“I’m a keeper, like Finn O’Brien.”
Silas noticed Finn’s signature already graced the ball—along with most of the other players. “I bet you’re even better than Finn.”
The boy beamed.
“And I bet if you were the keeper for the Vipers, I wouldn’t have made a single goal tonight.”
The boy’s eyes went wide. “You really think so?”
“Of course I do. I have a feeling you block shots left and right.”
The boy’s grin grew even wider. “Mom, can you get a picture of me and Silas Jenkins?”
His mom, who was
