6. Cope

6

COPE

Coach Kenner placed the whistle between his lips and blew. “Okay, team. Let’s finish today out strong. One last skating drill.”

Two days in, and we were already seeing who had a gift for the ice and who would likely stay in the hobby lane. That sort of thing could change somewhat, if a kid really got a taste for the sport and worked their ass off to get better. But there were certain things you couldn’t teach.

Instinct. A feel for the ice. The uninhibited lack of fear.

I’d spotted a few already. A twelve-year-old named Eddie was already playing at a seriously competitive level. Jayden, a nine-year-old, had a gift for puck handling. And one of the few girls in the camp, Shannon, was kicking some serious ass.

But it was Luca who had me awestruck. The kid could fly . It was like he’d been born on the ice. No fear. Only sheer joy every time he got to skate full-out. And after a couple of demonstrations, he could stop on a dime. The puck handling would come as he got more and more comfortable skating with the stick in his hand .

“Reaper, you want to walk them through it?” Kenner asked.

I nodded. “Think of it like an obstacle course on ice.” I gestured to the squat orange cones on the rink set apart at different intervals. “We’re focusing on adjusting footwork at greater speeds. Go as fast as you feel comfortable with while trying not to disrupt any cones.”

“Let’s go,” Kenner yelled and blew his whistle again.

The kids formed a line and began working their way through the setup with varying degrees of success. One boy was so determined to make it at record speed that he tripped and took out the whole line of cones. I braced for tears, but when he sat up, he shot both arms up in triumph, sending everyone into fits of laughter.

Luca was the second to last kid to go. I hadn’t missed how he’d intently watched everyone else, seeing where they struggled and how they succeeded. Smart little dude.

Kenner blew his whistle again, and Luca was off. He took the course in half the time the last kid had. Absolutely flying. He rounded the ice, taking the second leg even faster. The campers went silent as they watched, but just before he reached the end of the course, his stick hit one of the cones, sending it flying.

Luca skidded to a stop, his shoulders slumping in defeat. His face scrunched in a mixture of frustration and the effort it took to force back tears. God, the kid was going to kill me.

I pushed off, skating toward him as Coach Kenner reset the cone for the final kid to skate. I reached Luca in five long strides. My hand landed on his shoulder with a couple of pats, the same way my dad and coach had always done with me. I crouched lower so we were at eye level. “Don’t let one cone wreck a stellar run.”

Luca stared down at the ice. “I almost had it.”

“Want to know the most beautiful thing about that run?” I asked.

Luca’s eyes lifted to mine, so similar to his mom’s. They were older than his years, too. Wisdom lived there. “What?” he whispered.

“You went for it. You didn’t play it safe. And you absolutely flew . You have a gift, Speedy.”

Those turquoise eyes widened, shock and pure pleasure filling them. “I do? ”

“Damn straight, you do.”

Luca fought a giggle. “Mrs. Engel will be real mad if she hears you say the d-word.”

I didn’t hold back my chuckle. “Good thing she’s too far away to hear me.” But I hadn’t missed her watching me like a hawk during camp. As if suggesting I give Luca a ride without having a booster seat made me dangerous to every child at the practice.

“Good thing,” Luca echoed. He nibbled on his bottom lip for a moment before asking the question that was clearly stewing. “How do I go for it but not mess up?”

God, he was adorable. “We learn from our mistakes. What did you feel when you hit the cone?”

Luca’s little brow furrowed for a moment, and I could see him replaying the skate in his mind. “Before I hit it, I kept switching what I was looking at. Going back and forth between the cones and where I was going. But I was almost at the end and forgot to look at the cone. Forgot I had to think about my stick.”

“Bingo. Now you’ll know for next time. But you’re also still getting used to the stick. The more you skate with it, the easier it’ll be,” I assured him. “You’re doing amazing.”

Luca’s cheeks reddened, but he grinned hugely. “Thanks, Coach Reaper.”

Kenner blew his whistle. “We are done for the day. See you tomorrow, everyone.”

Some kids charged toward the rink exit and their waiting parents while others still raced around the ice in whatever game they’d made up. My phone buzzed as I started to head for the bench. I slowed and pulled it from my pocket.

Angie

How’s it going down there?

I winced at the text. It was hard to tell whether she was reaching out as head of PR for the Sparks or as my ex, which meant I had to thread the needle carefully. The last thing I wanted was to make her think there was an opening there.

Me

Good. Hope all is well .

Kind but to the point and ending the conversation. But my phone quickly dinged again.

Angie

Need me down there for anything?

Hell. That was the last thing I needed. But I’d brought this on myself.

Me

All good.

I shoved my phone back into my pocket just as two kids whizzed past me, Luca being one of them. As I followed their progress, I caught sight of a familiar figure at the edge of the rink. Before I could wave or head in that direction, Luca was moving.

“Rhodes!” he yelled, skating toward my sister.

Her smile was instant, her hazel eyes lighting at the greeting. Damn, it was good to see that. She’d been through so much over the past few months, and we’d all been worried. But apparently, recovery from nearly being killed by a psychopath came easier when you were head over heels in love. And while her ex-FBI-profiler boyfriend, Anson, might be a broody son of a bitch, he would do anything to keep Rhodes safe and happy.

“Luca!” she called over the noise of the excited kids. “You were incredible. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were a hockey superstar.”

The smile that split his face was so massive it had to hurt his cheeks. “I’m gonna play for the Sparks, just like Coach Reaper.”

The light in Rho’s eyes danced as she looked up at me. “Coach Reaper, huh?”

I flipped her off behind Luca’s back, which only made her laugh.

“Luca,” Evelyn called. “Come on. We need to go.” The scathing look she sent me told me she’d seen the middle finger I’d offered my sister.

“Aw, man,” Luca muttered.

I patted him on the back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Speedy.”

He nodded and then looked at Rhodes. “Can I come help on the Victorian soon? ”

With the help of Shep’s construction company, my sister was renovating her family home that had nearly been destroyed by a fire years ago.

“You bet. I know Anson would love your help.”

That had me choking on a laugh. Because I couldn’t picture the cantankerous ex-profiler-turned-contractor taking on a tiny assistant. Even if he was gone for my sister.

Rhodes sent me a glare and mouthed rude as Luca headed for the rink’s exit. I moved closer to the boards and my sister. She hadn’t come to live with us until she was thirteen, when her parents and sister were killed in a house fire. But her close friendship with Fallon from years before meant I’d always thought of her as a little sister.

“This coaching gig looks good on you,” Rhodes said, leaning against the boards.

“Careful, the power of this whistle has already gone to my head.”

She laughed. “I’m not shocked.”

“So,” I began, “who asked you to come check up on me?” All these sibling visits had a war of emotions playing out inside me. Gratitude that they gave a damn, mixed with annoyance at their lack of confidence in me holding it together.

Rhodes just rolled her eyes. “No one, Copeland.”

“Shit. She’s formal-naming me. I’m in trouble.”

“Damn straight. But don’t act like I’m here to put you in cuffs and drag you away for questioning.”

“You’d never,” I shot back. “You’re not Trace.”

Rhodes pinned me with a stare that had me snapping my mouth closed. “Don’t be a dick. Trace loves your cranky ass just as much as I do.”

A fresh wave of guilt washed over me at the memory of blowing him and Shep off yesterday. As oppressive as their check-ins could feel, I knew the reason behind them was love. “Sorry,” I muttered. “You’re right.”

“Hold on a sec.” Rho pulled out her phone. “I just want to get this on video for the sibling group chat. Say that one more time.”

“Oh, piss off,” I groused .

She laughed and shoved her phone back into her pocket. “So, how’s it feel to be coaching instead of playing?”

“You know, I like it more than I thought. Reminds me of when Dad used to coach my eight-and-under team.”

Rhodes stilled, and I instantly knew I’d made a misstep. I never brought up Dad or Jacob. Not because I didn’t think about them every fucking day, but because it was too hard to talk about them. But being back in Sparrow Falls for longer than I had been in years, and working with hockey kids like this, had the memories slamming back with full force.

And I didn’t have access to my typical tools to keep them at bay. No games, no training, no practices. I’d spent four hours working out last night, never more glad that I’d installed an over-the-top gym at my place here, even if it only got used a few weeks out of the year.

“Sometimes, remembering them feels more painful,” Rhodes whispered. “But I promise it’s good.”

Fuck. Rhodes knew this sort of pain better than anyone. But she didn’t know what it felt like to know that at the heart of it, their deaths were your fault.

A burning agony lit in my gut. Like a brushfire sweeping through muscle and sinew, burning everything in its sights. “Yeah,” I choked out. “Listen, I gotta go.” I waved to the young skate counter clerk. “Told someone I’d help them with a wrist shot.”

It wasn’t a total lie, just a stretch of the truth. Which was better than me biting her head off like I’d done to Trace and Shep the other day.

Rhodes studied me for a long moment before nodding. “Don’t forget, family dinner Saturday night.”

I groaned. That was the last thing I wanted to do. But maybe if I showed my face, played the easygoing shit-stirrer, these family visits to the rink would cease.

Rhodes reached out and flicked my ear. “What torture, getting fed amazing food and being forced to spend a couple of hours with your family.”

“Did you just flick me? ”

She arched a brow. “What’re you gonna do about it, ice boy?”

I shot forward, grabbing her in a headlock over the boards and giving her a noogie.

Rhodes squealed, batting at me. “I’m going to get you for this, Copeland Colson.”

I just laughed as I released her, skating backward toward the exit. “I’ll be watching my back, Rho Rho. And I’ve got panther-like reflexes.”

“Reflexes won’t save you when I put laxatives in your coffee!” she yelled.

Hayden laughed as she headed to the ice, looking between Rho and me. “Sister?”

I chuckled. “That obvious, huh?”

“One of my sisters would’ve said the same thing.”

“Good to know I’m not alone.” I pushed back from the boards, skating in reverse. “So, want to show me what you’ve got? We can work on that wrist shot.”

Hayden’s golden eyes widened. “Now?” she squeaked.

“I’ve got exactly fifteen minutes. I think that’s long enough to give you some things to work on.”

She didn’t wait. She ran for the skate counter, grabbed a pair from a shelf along with her stick, and sprinted back.

I laughed as she laced up. “I’m not gonna disappear on you, kid.”

She shook her head. “Not wasting a minute of your fifteen.”

Hell. I admired that sort of dedication. “Okay, do a couple of loops to warm up and then hit it.” I skated into the center of the rink, watching Hayden move across the ice. She had the same grace as the figure skater but there was more power behind it.

Hayden rounded the ice three times before picking up a puck with her stick and heading for the goal. She hit the three positions needed for the shot and the puck hit the net, but it lacked the force she could’ve gotten.

I skated toward her. “You’re thinking about the positions, aren’t you?”

She winced but nodded. “They aren’t second nature yet. ”

“They will be with time,” I assured her. “Right now, I actually want you to think about hand placement on the stick. Your thumb is supposed to be pointing down, but it’s shifting to the side. You’re going to lose power and accuracy when that happens.”

Not everyone took critique well. Some argued they weren’t doing that at all or told me I was wrong, but not Hayden. She simply nodded and rounded to make another approach. This time, the shot hit the net with a hell of a lot more force and in the top left corner.

“Hell yeah!” I called.

Hayden beamed. “Thanks, Mr. Colson.”

I winced. “That makes me feel eighty. Just call me Coach.”

“I’ll call you Coach,” a sultry voice purred.

My face screwed up before I stopped myself, and Hayden choked on a laugh. I blanked my expression as I turned around. “Raven.”

“Want to help me with my skating technique?” she cooed.

“Actually, I’m late for a meeting I totally forgot about. Hayden, keep working on it. It’ll be second nature before you know it.”

She gave me a mock salute and turned back to the net.

Raven huffed out a breath of annoyance, but I ignored her and skated straight for the exit. That girl scared the hell out of me.

I hopped off the ice, walking on the mats to take a seat on a bench. I chatted with a few lingering parents and kids. The moms batted their eyelashes in what I hoped were harmless searches for a thrill because all three wore wedding rings.

Lacing up my sneakers, I stood just as my phone buzzed in my pocket. Sliding it out, my sibling text chain flashed. We were in a constant battle, trying to one-up each other with names for the chat. The current moniker was The Den of Dysfunction .

A photo had been shared of me racing two kids from one end of the ice to the other.

Rhodes

Our brother dearest has a real gift for wrangling the rug rats.

It only took a matter of seconds for Kyler to reply. He always gave me the most shit, probably because we’d been the ones to get in the most trouble. Kye hadn’t come to live with us until he was sixteen, and even then, it was clear he lived with demons. Even though we were close, he never opened up to me about what he’d been through.

The truth was, I didn’t think he truly talked to anyone but Fallon. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. She was the empath of our family, the bleeding heart who took the world’s pain on as hers.

Kye

Probably good. Because who knows when the baby mamas are going to start coming out of the woodwork.

I tapped the camera icon, snapped a picture of me flipping him off, and sent it.

Kye

Touchy, touchy, hockey boy.

Fallon

Be nice. I think it’s sweet that you’re volunteering, Cope.

Kye

Hear that? You’re just a sweetie pie, cutie patootie, Copey pants.

Fallon sent him a series of emojis I was pretty sure meant she was threatening his life. I shook my head, bending to grab my bag and slide it over my shoulder. When I stood, it was to find Arnie standing there, a grimace on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Got a problem.” He held out his cell phone.

There was a text from a familiar name on the screen. The owner of the Sparks. My friend. But he hadn’t come to me, likely because his back was against the wall.

Lincoln Pierce

Got an anonymous tip about Cope using steroids. Need you to drug test him today. I can’t give him a heads-up or it could call the results into question.

Fucking hell. Tips to the press were one thing. But accusing me of drug use? That was something else entirely. And it meant one thing.

Someone was trying to ruin my career.