Hughes Brothers Hockey Novels & Stories

“I need you to get the boys ready, we have a major game against Gravehill academy next three weeks, they need to be prepared, Ace, this is…. Huge.” My brows drew together, eyes narrowing. Gravehill was one of the best schools known for their talented Hockey players. They had not lost a game in the past two years. And that was rich to say. ”Why would you want us to go against them?” I asked, studying his face. “It doesn't sound like a finals or even a recorded game.”

The Darvin brothers couldn’t have cared less about business matters or their uncle’s discussion with Batalov. Their thoughts were entirely consumed by the blonde now sitting in the next room, sipping tea in the company of the women. “So, what do you think about all this, Vlad?” Sergey asked, pulling his nephews from their thoughts. “I think, Uncle, that it’s far too early to make decisions about a business that doesn’t belong to you.” The large man bristled with anger, glancing from one nephew to the other. None of it interested Stas in the slightest—his gaze remained fixed on his phone screen.

I closed the door behind me and stood there for a second. It had been months. My eyes slowly moved across the walls. Hockey sticks. Dozens of them. Mounted carefully in rows. Old ones. New ones. Signed ones. Beneath them were framed jerseys, pucks in glass cases, helmets lined up like soldiers. Trophies stood proudly on shelves. For a moment, I forgot why I was here. A rare smile slipped onto my face. I walked closer to one of the sticks, brushing my fingers lightly over it. My father had never allowed me to play with his collection when I was younger. Not even touch them.