Novels by L.Dreams

Darren's Pov I called Stella first thing in the morning, before I could talk myself out of it, before the doubt sitting under my ribs had a chance to grow any louder than it already was."I might have found something," I said, the second she picked up."What kind of something?" Careful hope in her voice, the kind she'd been rationing out for weeks now, afraid to spend too much of it at once.I told her. The grant, the amount, the foundation, all of it, leaving out only the part about goodwill toward the Icebulls and vague future transfers, because saying it out loud made it feel heavier than I wanted it to feel this early in the morning.Silence for a second on her end. "That's — Darren, that's more than enough. That's everything we need.""I know.""So what's the problem?" She could always hear it in my voice, the thing underneath whatever I was actually saying. "You don't sound happy about this."I hesitated, staring out the kitchen window at nothing. "There are strings. Not huge o

Darren's PovThe address Adrian Cole sent me wasn't what I expected. Not a boardroom, not some corporate tower — a private dining room in the back of a restaurant nicer than anywhere I'd ever eaten, tucked away from the main floor with a door that closed heavy and solid behind the host who led me in.Adrian stood as I entered. Older, maybe fifties, expensive suit worn easy, like comfort mattered more to him than showing off. He shook my hand firm, gestured to the seat across from him."Mr. Morrison. Thank you for coming.""Wasn't sure I had a choice," I said, sitting."You always have a choice." He smiled, easy, practiced. "I just hope I can make this one worth taking."A server came and went, water poured, menus offered and declined. I wasn't here to eat. I wasn't sure I could have kept anything down anyway, nerves sitting tight in my stomach the whole drive over."I'll get to it," Adrian said, once we were alone again. "I've been following the camp closely. You're a talented player,

Darren's PovI didn't go straight home after the drive back from the hospital that night. I went to the rink instead, the practice one, not the shared camp facility, using the spare key Coach had given me back when I first made captain. Empty. Dark except for the emergency lighting along the walls. Exactly what I needed.I sat on the bench for a long time before I even put my skates on, gear bag open beside me, phone silent in my pocket for once. No calls. No texts. Just quiet, the kind I hadn't let myself sit in for weeks.I laced up slow and skated out onto the ice alone, no drills, no plays, just moving in long, aimless loops to feel something other than the tight, constant pressure sitting behind my ribs.It didn't work the way it used to.I stopped near the boards eventually, breathing hard even though I hadn't pushed myself that hard, and stood there a moment with my forehead resting against the cold glass. Everything from the last two weeks sat there behind my eyes at once. The

Darren's PovStella called at two in the morning."She's spiking a fever," she said, voice fast and thin with panic. "The nurse says it's not the surgery, it's something else, an infection maybe, they're running tests now.""I'm coming.""You have practice in five hours.""I don't care."I drove to the hospital in the dark, hands tight on the wheel, and spent the rest of the night in a plastic chair beside Priscilla's bed, watching machines beep and nurses come and go with clipboards and quiet, careful voices that never told me enough. By sunrise the fever had come down some. Not gone. Down."Go," Stella said, when I didn't move from the chair. "I've got her. You can't miss camp today, not with everything Coach already said."I didn't want to leave. I left anyway, because staying wouldn't fix anything and missing camp definitely would make things worse, and I was too tired to figure out a version of the day where both things could be true at once.~~I showed up running on no sleep, g

Darren's PovI sat in the car before practice with my bank app open, running the numbers again even though I already knew every possible way they added up. Sold car money, still stuck in limbo. Gym paychecks, small and slow. Pawn shop cash, already spent trying to fix a hole I'd only made bigger. Betting money, gone entirely.None of it moved the number where it needed to go. I stared at the screen until the digits blurred slightly, then closed the app and sat there another minute, forehead against the steering wheel, breathing through it before I had to walk in and be captain for another two hours.Coach called me into his office the second I stepped off the ice."Sit," he said, no preamble this time.I sat."I've been getting calls," he said, folding his hands on the desk. "About you. About your performance the last few days. Missed passes, late arrivals, that blow-up with Reyes on the ice yesterday. Scouts are asking questions I don't have good answers for anymore.""I know I've be

Darren's PovI heard about the pool from one of the older guys on the team, half joking, half serious, the kind of thing that got passed around in locker rooms in a low voice like it wasn't actually a big deal. A betting pool, tied to the camp scrimmages, players putting money in and splitting whatever came out based on outcomes nobody officially tracked but everyone unofficially bet on anyway.I should have walked away the second I heard the number someone had already turned a small stake into.I didn't."How's it work," I asked, catching one of the older Falcons, Reyes, in the equipment room after practice.He glanced around before answering, like it mattered who overheard even though half the room already knew. "You put money in on a scrimmage outcome. Who wins, by how much, whatever the pool's set up for that day. Odds shift based on who's playing who. You get it right, you get a cut of the pot.""How much to get in.""Depends on the day. Today's pool's decent size, some of the ol