Second Chance Player : (Player Series) (The Player Series Book 1), page 1
SECOND CHANCE PLAYER
R.C. STEPHENS
Copyright © 2023 by R.C. Stephens (Irene Cohen)
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Okay Creations
Editor: Editing4Indies
Proofread: Barren Acres Editing
CONTENTS
Connect with R.C.
Introduction
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Prologue
Chapter one
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by R.C. Stephens
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PROLOGUE
“Dude, this car is freaking amazing,” I say to Devon as I climb inside his brand-new cherry-red Ferrari. He has the roof down on this warm summer night. It’s his first day owning the car.
He looks over at me with a grin. “I’m hyped,” he says as music plays on the radio, and he taps his hand on the steering wheel. Everything about this car screams luxury. I was just drafted by the Rangers, and I’ve been hanging out with some teammates before the season officially begins. I say officially because we’ve been in preseason training. Devon’s been on the team for five years, so he’s been showing me the ropes.
We drive down the street. “Let’s take this baby on the highway,” he says. “You have to see her go.” His excitement over the car is contagious. I wonder if I would ever allow myself to be so indulgent. This doesn’t really seem to be my style, even though it’s fun to go for a ride.
“Guys are headed to a club tonight. You up for it?” he asks, giving me a side glance.
“When am I not up for some fun?” I reply.
Devon smiles mischievously and turns up the music. We cruise down the freeway, warm wind blowing at my face. This is the life. We hit a patch of traffic. I look at the rearview mirror and my eyes widen.
“Dev, shit that tractor trailer is coming at us too fast,” I say.
It all happens so fast, my heart rate spikes as I watch the trailer coming at us at hyper speed. He should be stopping.
“Shit,” Dev curses and he tries to change lanes. He begins honking his horn frantically.
I turn in my seat to watch the truck. “He’s slowing down but not enough. Must be something wrong with him.”
Devon is cursing beside me and when the truck doesn’t slow down enough my life flashes before my eyes. I see David, my brother. He’s saying this can’t be my time. Then Skylar’s face flashes before me. Her round, doe-green eyes watching me like I’m a wonder. I don’t know how I walked away but I want another chance. I want another chance. I want another chance. . .
An alarm blaring pulls me from my nightmare, only when I open my eyes it feels too real because by some miracle, I survived. The trailer didn’t hit us at full speed but it was heavy enough to turn Devon’s Ferrari into a sandwich. I blacked out and when I woke up a bunch of firemen were trying to extract Devon and me from the car. Devon suffered multiple leg fractures. By some miracle I walked away with cuts and bruises. Having your life flash before your eyes like that is a surreal moment. Yet I relive that evening in my sleep for the past three years. My rookie year didn’t go as I had hoped because my mind got all messed up from my near-death experience. Luckily, I had a no-trade clause with the Rangers for five years or else they would have traded my ass and it wouldn’t have fared well for me.
With sweat dripping down my forehead and my heartbeat still erratic, I make my way to the shower. As the warm water sprays over my back and I hold on to the wall, I think of Skylar again. I tried looking for her, but I had no luck. Her foster parents hadn’t heard from her in a while, and she wasn’t on any form of social media. Short of hiring a private investigator I was shit out of luck.
After the accident, I saw a therapist about the nightmares. It helped somewhat and they started to come less and less, but lately I was feeling lonely or maybe just feeling sorry for myself. I don’t really know. I loved playing in the NHL for the past three years and thank fuck my stats picked up once I started sleeping better at night.
Devon was forced to retire. It hit him hard. After working so hard to play in the NHL his career had ended. He had nothing to show for himself except for the money in his bank account. The finality of his career scared me and brought me to the realization I wanted more out of my life.
I quickly wash my body and get dressed in joggers and a sweatshirt. It’s game day and we are playing at home tonight. I make myself a protein smoothie and head outdoors for a light jog. The wind whips at my face. It’s bitter cold in New York City in December. It’s not much different from Boston, where I grew up, so I shouldn’t be complaining. Only I hope to one day get traded to a warmer climate like Tampa.
After my jog, I head back to my apartment and prepare some eggs and whole grain toast. I think of Skylar and how badly I screwed up. Since my brother passed away, I have these silent conversations with him in my head which is weird because we didn’t actually talk this much when he was alive. Yet somehow, I picture him finally at peace. He’s happy and a Chatty Cathy and he gives me all kinds of life advice because I sure as hell don’t like to go to our father. Not after he abandoned our family the way he did. Mom hasn’t been the same either since David died. It’s like something died inside her. When we talk we have these surface conversations. Besides I would never ask her what she thought of me finding Skylar again. She disliked her from day one.
My mind shifts to the game tonight only because we are playing Colorado. Carter Lewis is on the team and he’s kind of been my nemesis since high school. The guy always had a pickle up his ass when it came to me, and I don’t know what I ever did to him. We were the only two guys in our neck of the woods headed to a college Division 1 team the same year. We may have been each other’s competition but we both ended up on solid teams. Westfall may have been a little stronger than Brown, but nonetheless he did well for himself. He also jumped on the opportunity of hitting on Skylar the night we broke up. He was her shoulder to cry on. I’ve looked him up since and he doesn’t have a wife or girlfriend, which tells me they didn’t work out, but maybe he has a clue to her whereabouts. It’s a long shot and he’ll probably make me grovel for the information because he’s a big asshole, but it may give me a lead. Sometimes I feel like a crazy person pining for the first girl I loved. For all I know she could be married with kids. But something inside me won’t give up. I need to know. Maybe seeing her happy will be enough for me to move on with my life because since the accident I haven’t so much as laid hands on the opposite sex.
The rest of the day goes by in a blur. I head over to my buddy Evan’s apartment next door and play video games with some other guys from the team. We eat a good lunch and drink lots of Gatorade. Then I head back to my place for my usual rituals before a game. I make myself my necessary peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which I’ve eaten religiously before each game since my days at Westfall U. I take a warm shower and drink a lot of water. Then I head to the arena to get
When I enter the locker room some of the guys are here getting ready.
“What’s up?” Wolfe asks.
“Good, bro,” I say. We’ve been buds since I was a rookie at Westfall, and he was in his senior year. By fluke we ended up playing for the same NHL team. He’s kind of the older brother I never had. He and his wife invite me to their house for meals and when I need advice about something serious, he’s my go-to.
“Stay cool with Lewis tonight,” he reminds me.
I never told him why there’s bad blood between Carter and me, but he’s seen with his own eyes how Carter tries to get under my skin by being extra aggressive when we are on the ice together. I’ve spent my share of time in the sin bin because of him.
“It’ll be all right,” I assure my teammate.
He claps me on the back and continues to get his gear on.
I’m called over for a pregame interview. The reporter asks me how I feel about the game tonight and I tell her the team is feeling good. I zip through the next number of questions when I spot Carter. He’s getting interviewed too. That’s when I get a crazy-ass idea. He’s right here in front of me and he probably has all the answers I need. He can’t still be holding a grudge he has no right to hold since I didn’t do anything to him.
I look at him and nod. “What’s up?” I feel a little crazy, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
He looks at me, then turns around, thinking I’ve asked someone else the question but no one is behind him.
“Good,” he replies warily.
“Can’t we call a truce?” I say.
“What’s your angle, Bozeman?” he asks.
“No angle but there’s this bad energy between us. We bring it to the ice every time we play. Can’t we just be a bunch of professionals and get over it? We both clearly didn’t get the girl,” I say.
Something inside him deflates.
“Truce,” he agrees.
“Truce,” I say back to him. He’s about to walk away when I stop him. “Carter?” I call after him. Here goes nothing.
He turns to look at me with the same lack of trust he always holds when I’m around. “What ever happened to her?”
He shrugs. “We broke up sophomore year. I don’t know. Heard she dropped out.”
His words cause my stomach to turn. Skylar was the most driven person I ever met.
I nod.
“See you on the ice. Have a good game,” I say.
“You too.”
I head back to the locker room where Coach Myles gives the team a pregame spiel. Then we are heading through the tunnel like we do on any other night there is a game.
“Is everything okay?” Wolfe asks, coming up beside me.
“Made things right with Lewis. You don’t need to worry, Cap,” I say. Not that Wolfe won’t worry. He’s a great captain and looks out for all of us.
“Good.” He nods and walks off while I feel like I’m going through the motions. Anthem. Puck drop.
The game moves fast.
First period Carter and I aren’t on the ice together. By second period we are at face-off. He gives me a smirk. His lip curling and his eyes filled with mirth. It isn’t the first time I’ve seen the look on him. I wonder what his angle is because I thought we just had a white flag moment. The ref drops the puck and I shoot it first. It’s me who’s smiling now as I skate off and head toward the opposite side of the ice. Some of my teammates battle over the puck since they got there first. Evan shoots the puck to me and then Carter is on me. Jabbing his stick. He elbows me in the ribs but it isn’t caught by the refs so no one calls him out. I fight hard because no way am I letting this asshole steal the puck when we are so close to the opposing team’s net.
Suddenly Carter pulls at my jersey. “What the fuck?”
“Asshole,” he shouts. I wonder what the hell has gotten into him. This isn’t cool. Did I do something to piss him off already?
I keep my eyes on the puck and shove him off me, keeping my hands to myself, but Carter is persistent tonight as he checks me into the boards. I have no choice but to shove him back. It’s clear we aren’t just playing the game at this point. The asshole punches me, and I shove him into the boards. The ref calls the penalty and we both end up in the sin bin.
Damn him.
I usually keep my cool with other players who like to start shit. He’s the only one who can really get under my skin. I think of what an asshole he is for pretending to be cool with me just minutes ago. It makes me wonder if maybe he is still with Skylar and he lied.
I’m so pissed at myself for falling for his stupid antics that my body is tense. But I also see this as an opportunity.
I get out of my seat and walk over to him, which is a very wrong thing to do in the middle of a game. Before anyone has the chance to stop me my feet are moving. “Why do you have to start shit every time we play? I don’t understand what I ever did to you,” I say to him because maybe this isn’t about Skylar at all.
He looks at me like I’m dense.
“You go after everything I want, and you steal it away,” he says surprising me. I begin to think he’s insane. We were never friends. How the hell would I know what he wants? I play along.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask him.
“We were rivals on the ice in high school. Both of us after the same teams for college. Only you had money behind you. The better training. You had more opportunities than I did to make it onto the Westfall team,” he says.
Okay, so he isn’t logical. We both tried out. I know he came from the other side of the tracks in town, but he couldn’t possibly hold that against me. We’re both playing in the NHL.
“We were both strong players. Brown was a solid team,” I reply, reminding myself this guy isn’t rational, and I need to know a few things.
“There stats weren’t as good as Westfall and you know it,” he bites.
He’s a little delusional. We both got scouted in the same way. I can’t be to blame for getting certain offers or his skill set.
“You went after Skylar the second we broke up,” I say because I’m still pissed that even happened. I was in a bad place when we broke up, but I never thought she would fall into the arms of another guy so quickly. We were in love. My inner voice reminds me she felt like I abandoned her.
“We became friends freshman year. I wanted her. I put the moves on her. She told me there was someone else, but she would never say who,” he says bitterly.
Damn. Skylar never told me that.
“What surprised me though when you were together was you never took her virginity. I guess at the end I was victorious because it was me who popped her cherry,” he says, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
That’s all it takes for me to see red all over again. I lose any composure and I begin to pounce on him. Punching the shit out of him. The guys from my team who aren’t on the ice have to enter the penalty box and pull me off him. I’m then escorted back to the locker room where Coach reams me out.
“I know you have some sort of a beef with this guy,” Coach Myles says pacing.
“I’m sorry, Coach,” I say with my head down.
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Liam. You could be up for a suspension. If we are lucky, you get a fifty grand fine and call it a day, but who knows. That isn’t the problem though. As a player you need to rein in your temper. You have a responsibility to this team. I’ve been more than patient with you after everything you’ve been through, but I can’t fight the GM when you look so bad out there,” he says two fists at his waist.
