“We stand by what we did,” Charles says. “It’s a family-run company, and we can’t let it slide, even if we didn’t want to.”

“Funny you should say family,” I say, looking at them, “because a family-run company would have called me to ask if I was okay. Would have been at the police station making sure I was all right. A family would have had my back no matter what.” Claude just nods. “A family doesn’t just turn their backs on each other because it’s going to get messy.”

“I agree,” Claude says.

“See, me assaulting that man was me protecting my family,” I tell them. “Not that any of you asked. I have been a part of this ‘family’”—I raise my hands and use air quotes—“since I was eighteen years old. I’ve gotten on that ice every single day, having the backs of my teammates. I’ve never once questioned any of the decisions that you guys have made over the years.” I smirk now. “And there have been some shitty ones, and some not so smart ones, but I’ve stayed true to my commitment to this organization and to who I thought were my brothers.”

“Your commitment to the team is not in question,” Hartley says.

“You’re right, it’s not. What’s in question right now is how I can skate for an organization that doesn’t stand with me,” I say and then look over at Claude. “I’m sorry that I am doing this, especially to you.” I then look over at Carey, who just nods. “I refuse to get on the ice with this organization going forward. I will not be attending camp. I will not be on that bench, and I will never wear that jersey.”

“Surely, you don’t mean that,” Hartley says. “You can’t just do that. We can …”

“You can, what, suspend me?” I shrug. “Whatever.”

“You’ll be in breach of contract,” Charles says.

“Oh, well, I guess you can either sue me or pay me out,” I say. “Or here is something, you can trade me.”

“That’s crazy. You are the franchise name,” Harley says.

“And not even that was good enough to stand by me,” I say, pushing my chair back. “I’ll let you guys think about it, and Carey will call you this afternoon to know which option you pick.”

“You would ruin your career,” Albert says. “All because—”

“All because in my time of need no one was there,” I say and then look at Carey. “You ready?”

“This is fucking bullshit,” Hartley snaps.

“No, what’s bullshit is getting a fucking phone call from SportsCenter asking me to comment on my suspension.” I push the chair back in. “That’s fucking bullshit.”

“I’ll trade you to the bottom of the fucking barrel,” Hartley says, foaming from the mouth.