JAX'S POV
The steel-reinforced doors of the Bay Blades executive suites looked like a prison wall, and I was about five seconds away from kicking them right off their hinges.
"Kingston, baseline it for a second. You need to keep your head," Sullivan muttered, his heavy hand clamping down on my shoulder.
The team captain was still in his sweaty practice gear, his Southern drawl tense as he stood with me in the carpeted hallway outside the General Manager’s office.
"I’m on your side, buddy. We all are. But pacing around here like a caged grizzly isn’t going to stop the front office if they’ve already got the trade calls lined up with Chicago."
"They aren't trading me, Sully," I growled, ripping myself away from his grip.
My long hair was plastered to my neck, and the ink on my arms fel
