In my peripheral vision, I saw my teammates assembling in a circle around us. I wasn’t sure if they’d cheer Jock on or prevent him from ripping me limb to limb. All I could do was plead my case.

“I didn’t know she was your wife.” How much more did I dare say? She hadn’t been drunk when we’d met, but she’d certainly been horny. If I went along with her story, I’d be lying, and he wouldn’t believe me anyway, which would make this worse. Better to own up to my mistakes and take it like a man.

“You think I’m stupid. I never imagined I’d be”—he paused, and his voice cracked—“I’d be betrayed by a member of this team.”

“I didn’t—” I looked around the circle of men for someone who believed me and might be on my side. Not one of them did. Not only was I screwed with Jock, but this wasn’t a good prelude to my rookie debut.

“I don’t fucking care what your excuse is. You fucked my wife.” Jock lunged for me again. I backpedaled, trying to avoid him, and stepped on someone’s toes. They yelped and pushed me forward, right toward my attacker. Jock had a mean right hook and cuffed me hard across the jaw. He’d sucker-punched my dumb ass again. I slammed to the floor, and the guy leaped on top of me, whaling on me with his fists. He got in a few good hits before we were separated by an angry head coach and an equally angry team captain.

Kaden held one arm. Easton, who’d appeared out of nowhere, gripped the other. It took four veterans to keep Jock from jumping me again.

“Where’ve you been?” I said as an aside to Easton.

He shrugged unapologetically. “Sorry I was late getting here.”

“I could’ve used you several minutes ago.”

“Sounds like you could’ve used me the other night to knock some sense into your sorry ass.”

I didn’t know. He’d have picked her up, too, given half the chance. Before I could defend myself, Coach’s voice rose above the din.

“What the hell is going on here?” He was so furious, his face was red with all these veins standing out. I hoped he didn’t have a stroke. No one said a word. Even Jock’s face was wiped of emotion.

“Jock, you’re a seasoned veteran. You know better than to pick a fight with a rookie. What’s this all about?”

“It’s personal,” Jock said tersely.

“Personal?” Gorst leaned close to Jock and spoke through gritted teeth. “We are all professionals here. Professionals. We don’t bring our personal problems to this facility. Whatever beef you have with him, settle it outside the SHAC and keep it out of the media. Do. You. Understand?”

Jock nodded, swallowing hard.

“All of you. Don’t you have something better to do than to stand around gawking? We lost all three games of the last road trip, and this is all you have time for?”