My Hockey Alpha



"Enzo, stop!" Matt's voice broke through my red haze, pulling me back to reality.

I turned, meeting Matt's eyes, the gravity of what I was about to do hitting me all at once. My hand loosened, my breaths coming out in ragged gulps. He pulled me aside, his grip firm on my arm.

I glanced back at the burglar, his eyes glaring daggers at me, blood trickling down his lip. And in that moment, I was flooded with the magnitude of my own failure. I had let the darkness take over, let it consume me, all because I was haunted by the ticking clock of 48 hours and the woman whose safety meant more to me than my own soul.

What had I done?

Matt's grip on my arm tightened as he pulled me out of the room, his eyes searching my face with an intensity that made me feel like I was standing under a spotlight.

"Enzo, what the hell was that?" he said, his voice tinged with incredulity and concern.

I shook my head, trying to regain some semblance of control, my knuckles still aching from the punches. "I don't know, Matt. I don't know."

He led me down the hall, away from the glaring fluorescent lights of the makeshift interrogation room, toward another room that we had turned into more of a break area. It was funny, knowing that Edward had once used this place for his weird and unethical experiments, and now there was a coffee machine and a couple of plush chairs.

Matt poured two cups of what passed for coffee, handing one to me. "Talk to me, Enzo. You're one of the most level-headed guys I know. This isn't like you."

I stared into the dark liquid, a swirl of thoughts clouding my mind. "I wish I could explain, Matt, but it's complicated."

"Complicated? You nearly knocked the guy out cold!" Matt exclaimed, his brows furrowing. "You were about to cross a line, Enzo, a line you can't uncross."

"I know, I know." I sighed, setting down the coffee cup. "It's just... things are different now."

"Different how?"

I hesitated, my eyes meeting his. What could I say? How could I explain the knot of fear and frustration that had been festering in my gut? "It's Nina's pregnancy," I finally blurted out.

"Shouldn't it be a good thing, though?" he asked. "Not a reason to flip out?"

"It should be," I said, my voice heavy. "But it's a high-risk pregnancy, Matt. And there's more. Nina's been having these... visions, for lack of a better word. Apparently, her mother had the same ones during her first pregnancy, and the baby was stillborn. I can't explain it, but it's like I'm walking on a razor's edge every single day. Like history is trying to repeat itself."

Matt looked at me, a wave of realization washing over his face. "And that's why you're on edge, why you lost it in there. You're trying to protect her, your family."

I nodded. "I need to know why that guy was there, if he knows something that could put Nina in danger. And if that means I have to resort to more aggressive methods to get answers, then so be it."

"But Enzo, you can't go down that path," Matt said, his voice solemn. "That's not you. You've never been that type of guy. Once you go down that path, you can't come back from it."

"But how can I not?" I shot back, my voice rising. "How is being a 'good guy' all of the time supposed to protect my family? Especially when others don't have the same outlook on life?"

Matt took a deep breath, taking in my words. "Listen, I can't pretend to understand what you're going through. But don't let your fears and frustrations turn you into someone you're not. There's got to be another way, a better way."This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

"Look, Enzo," Matt continued, breaking the momentary silence, "I think I have a better idea for how you can let off some steam. Follow me."

Without another word, Matt knocked back the rest of his coffee and led me through the tunnels, then back upstairs, where the infirmary and hockey arena were. In the arena, he reached into a locker, pulling out a well- worn hockey stick and tossing it to me. My fingers wrapped around the familiar tape-grip, its slight wear comforting in a strange sort of way.

"Gear up," Matt said, a hint of a smile on his face. "We need to play some rough hockey to let those frustrations out, not take it out on a burglar."