Chapter 8

Wade

Wild Wade is hoping for a supermodel glow up on his tarnished rep

Edmonton Eagles defenseman, Wade Collins hires new sports agent, Leon Hill

Wade Collins caught cuddling up with publicist Kali Roth outside hospital

"It's only been six weeks, but I hear you're making good progress." Marcus stares at the monitor on his desk.

"Yes, sir."

His eyes scan whatever he is looking at, which I can only assume is feedback from my support team.

"Attendance is good. You're putting in the work. Ash is… really happy with your progress, as is Joe. And Thomas… only four sessions? There should be six."

"It took some persuasion for me to go."

Marcus lifts his eyes to mine. "Are they helping? I know it's possibly too soon to say, but how are you feeling?" The lines around his eyes crinkle, mouth tense, the genuine concern he has for me doesn't go unnoticed.

"It's… fine. I'm okay." I think. "I've stopped drinking." And that's a sure sign of how dedicated I am. Having that contract in my hands changed everything. I hope Kali shredded the fucking thing.

He points to his screen. "I know you have because Lola checks in on you at random times of the night, ensuring you don't go out when you've said you are staying in, and she sweeps the room for bottles."

I rub my chin and let out a huge sigh. "She doesn't need to do that. I'm not a drunk." I don't want to go into detail, but Marcus lifts his eyebrows high, almost hitting his hairline as if asking me to further explain. "I did it before to help me forget. I'm doing other things to help me with that now. Yoga, meditation, visualizations. I'm enjoying them more than I thought I would." I pause before joking with him. "Zane is safe."

He chuckles. "Good to hear." He gives me a thumbs up. "So triggers are lessening, but is there anything specific that's come up recently that you've felt out of odds with?"

It's too deep to share.

"You can trust me, Wade. Look what I've put in place to help. I only want what is best for you." He hesitates as he seems to rethink that last word. "For the team."

I give in and tell him, "It's my second Thanksgiving tomorrow without Gretchen. The first one and Christmas was… lonely." Awful, horrific. Drank too much and felt shit.

"You spent them alone?" His face turns gray.

I nod a yes.

"Wade." My short name sounds full of deep sympathy on his lips.

"It's okay." But I never want to spend another holiday by myself, so I am taking my teammate, Jordy, up on his offer to go to his mom"s tomorrow for Thanksgiving.

"The holidays are about family."

"I don't have one." My voice heavy with sorrow, I feel sorry for myself for admitting this. The team is the closest thing I have, and I'm only close to a couple of them. Jordy is my closest friend. Younger than me, he's way smarter. He's a great guy.

His mouth drops open in shock. "You don't speak to your mother at all? Why?"

"I avoid her at all costs." I'm better off without her. "She wasn't a very good mother," I say without meaning to, but fuck it, I'm certain everyone knows what a class-A fame-starved princess she is and that only has room in her heart for one person: herself.

"This is news to me, Wade." His deep frown tells me he's struggling with that information. "Has it always been this way?"

"She barely spoke to me when I was growing up. Gretchen raised me. Have you ever seen her at my games? Family days? Mother's Day?"

"I thought Gretchen just stood in for your mom when she couldn't make it. Like the day you signed your contract, she was busy." He shakes his head in apparent disbelief.

Where the fuck did he get that assumption from?"You're wrong about that. That woman is selfish to the core and only cares about herself. She never wanted me."

There's a long stretch of silence between us.

"I can't believe what I am hearing, Wade. I am so sorry."

What's he sorry for?"It's not your problem."

"Your well-being is my problem." He rubs his finger along his bottom lip. "Was she abusive?"

"Physically, no. Verbally, yes. Every day, I was told I was worthless. She was clever at hiding it around her friends." Sneaky bitch. "She's a very good actress."

"Wade… I… What can I do?" I've never seen Marcus struggle to find his words before. "Would you like me to set up mediation between the two of you? Would that help?"

"Absolutely not." I'm a little too firm with my reply. "Sorry." I hold up my hand in apology. "Thank you, but no."

"I won't push it, Wade, but that offer is open should you wish to take me up on it."

"Thank you." But no fucking thanks. I'd rather chew on a nest of wasps than speak to her ever again.

Clearing his throat, he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, as if he's trying to rewire his brain with the new information I've just shared with him about my mother.

Finally, he shakes his head, clears his throat, then says, "And Kali is doing a great job." She is. Most recently, she had me running a training session with a peewee team, which might have been a photo opportunity for her, but for me, it was a fun night, and I laughed a lot. For little guys, they were feisty. Kali's images and video footage she took were incredible and captured how passionate they were. They reminded me a lot of myself at that age and made me crave the enthusiasm they showed. I want that again.

Following my four-game ban for punching Zane, Kali encouraged me to actively participate in more post-game press conferences. I wasn't allowed previously, but they are slowly beginning to trust me again, and Kali is keeping me on a short leash. I'm actually enjoying them despite having to restrain myself a few times when reporters asked inappropriate questions about my personal life. Mainly about my mother.

I've been media trained within an inch of my life by her team. It was more like a refresher as I've had media training in the past, but I learned more this time around and enjoyed it more than I thought I would.

"How did the visit to the children's hospital go?" Marcus asks, bringing my attention back to the room.

"Great, actually." I feel myself smiling. "Sad, though." Fucking heartbreaking.

Jordy, Zane, Spike, and I surprised a little girl called Alice, who is the biggest Eagles fan, and made a wish through a foundation to meet us.

Ten-years-old, and currently going through her second round of chemotherapy, Alice was smart and funny, sassy; too sassy for a young girl. She might have thought we were there to brighten her day, when, in fact, she brightened ours and had us roaring with laughter. Something I thought I'd forgotten how to do. Also, not something I would ever do with Zane.

As we left the hospital, Kali broke down in tears. "Life is so unfair." She sobbed into my shoulder while I consoled her until I finally managed to bundle her into my car. She cried the entire way back to her office. I was tempted to hold her hand to comfort her, but I'm unsure how well that would have been received. I only left her after she had time to collect herself. Even then I didn't want to leave.

She's even beautiful when she cries.Which, I thought, was a weird thing for me to notice at the time. But I did, and that's that. I wish I could have kissed every tear away and made her feel better.

Later that night, she texted me to apologize for being unprofessional and thanked me for driving her back to her office. I replied, telling her there was no need, and it was normal to feel how she did.

But Kali was right. Life is so unfair.

Gretchen dying was unfair.

Alice made me realize I haven't been living my life. I've just been floating around in a daze. So, every morning since I met her, I've been listing all the things I am grateful for in a journal. Including my health.

She also made me realize everyone has problems, much bigger than mine, but it's how we deal with them that matters.

I'm determined to get my life back on course.

Marcus sits back in his black leather chair and taps his fingertips against the armrests. "I did a good thing to help you, right? You're not still mad at me?"

I shake my head. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself."

"For?"

"For forcing your hand to assemble a support team for me." If he hadn't, I don't know where I would end up. "Thank you." The words get stuck in my throat. "I will make it up to you."

"Best behavior, show up, do the work, train hard, play well, and score goals, son. That's all I'm asking."

"No pressure." I chuckle.

Across from me, Marcus runs his pointer finger across his bottom lip. "Tell me, Collins, what's your endgame?"

"I want to be captain of the team, sir." With a clear head, it feels good to remember what my ultimate dream goal has always been but was in too much of a mess to consider it, so pushed it to the back of my mind.

With Zane around, I know that will never happen. Being heir to the team, by default, Daddy will crown him captain and I'll be forced to stand by and watch. But a man can dream.

"Do you think you've got what it takes?" He lifts his chin in challenge.

"I do."

"As do I. But don't keep any more secrets from me. Learning of Gretchen's passing, that should have come directly from you and not..." He stops himself and runs his hands through his silver hair. "I bumped into your mother at a charity event. She told me then." He confirms my suspicions. "I'm not sure I'll be able to look at her in the same way, having just learned what you told me about her and her treatment of you."

Using the arms of his chair to push himself to his feet, Marcus walks around the side of the desk to me.

In his later fifties, he's a handsome motherfucker. Silver haired, he's fit, tall, wealthy. He exudes confidence unlike anything I've ever seen. Hell, he's cockier than a hockey player, and that's saying something. Coming from the wealthy Edwards dynasty, who have shares in oil and gas, own superstore and hotel chains, clothing brands, you name it; he inherited the Eagles from his father and his wife's father, who owned it together, and it will be handed down to Zane. I hope I'm not here when that happens.

"You're an incredible player, Wade. Show me your hunger and your drive. Prove to me you've got what it takes to become captain of my team."

That sounds a lot like a test.

"Am I in the running?" I ask doubtfully.

Marcus stuffs his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and stands wide. "You won't know if you don't try. It's earned, not given."

"I'll work hard." Try harder than I am now.

He holds his hand out for me to shake. "I'm pleased with how far you've come already."

I stand to meet his height. "Thank you," I say, shaking his firm hand.

"Who are you?" His eyes narrow into slits.

"An Eagle." I hope I answered that correctly.

His other hand covers mine. "Not just an Eagle."

"No?"

"Wade Collins, you're a legendary Eagle. Make me proud."

Hope and confidence bloom in my chest. "I won't let you down, Mr. Edwards."

"Please." His eyes soften around the edges. "Call me Marcus."

"I won't let you down, Marcus."

Then he winks, dismissing me for the weekend.

I might just make captain after all.

Fuck off. Stop kidding yourself, Wade Collins.