2.Kovacs Don't Follow Orders
1647 Words
CHAPTER 2: KOVACS DON'T FOLLOW ORDERS
~NATE~
The east wing didn't smell like home.
I had played in arenas across the country, walked into hostile buildings with thousands of fans screaming my name like they wanted to see me fail.
I had stood on ice covered in the sweat, blood, and pressure that came with being a captain.
None of those places had bothered me the way this one did.
Because this wasn't enemy territory.
It was worse.
It was shared territory with the enemy.
I stood inside the temporary Reapers locker room with my duffel bag hanging from one shoulder, taking in the changes the league had forced on us overnight.
The walls had been covered with black banners.
Our logo had been placed above the entrance because the equipment staff had worked until midnight making sure everything was organized.
They had done their best.
But they couldn't erase the truth.
The Harbor City Wolves still owned this building.
Their championship photos lined the hallways. Their history filled the walls and their name was carved into every corner of a place we were now expected to call ours.
A roll of hockey tape flew toward me.
I caught it before it hit my chest.
"You look like someone cancelled Christmas," Ricks chuckled.
I tossed the tape onto my equipment bag. "Maybe I just don't enjoy the fact we have to live in enemy territory. I've been meeting her too much."
He laughed as he pulled on his gloves. "Funny. I heard your morning was pretty interesting."
I already knew where this was going.
"Twice is already too much in my own books. I know the entire team have already heard, didn't they?"
"Yes sir." One corner of his mouth ticked up. “We heard she threatened to fine you on the second day of moving in."
I sighed. "Ricks."
"What? Our captain getting threatened with a league fine before breakfast twice is quite fun."
I looked at him."She wasn't threatening me."
"But she threatened your franchise AGAIN." He stressed on the last word.
"Because we were late AGAIN."I did the same too and that made him pause.
"Wait. You agree with her?" Allison's brows c****d as his face suddenly wore a gaze of interest.
"I said she was doing her job."
A grin slowly appeared on his face. "That is the closest thing to defending a Sterling I've ever heard from you."
"I wasn't defending her."
"Sure." Someone sneered jokingly from the bathroom area.
Before I could respond, the locker room door opened.
The conversation stopped immediately.
Daniel Kovac stood in the doorway.
My father had always carried himself like he was still wearing a captain's jersey instead of a tailored suit.
Even at sixty, he had the same intimidating presence that had made opponents hesitate before stepping onto the ice.
His silver hair was perfectly arranged. His expression was unreadable which usually meant someone was about to have a very bad day.
"Coaches. Captains. Conference room now." He looked around the room then added, "Five minutes."
Nobody asked questions.
Nobody needed to.
Five minutes later, we sat around the long conference table overlooking the practice rink.
Below us, the ice resurfacer moved slowly across the empty surface, leaving behind a clean sheet of white.
My father remained standing.
"The league believes this arrangement is necessary," he said. "They believe sharing this facility will save money, improve scheduling, and prepare both organizations for future changes."
Nobody looked convinced.
"Whether we agree with them is irrelevant."
He placed both hands on the back of a chair.
"What matters is that we do not embarrass this franchise."
Assistant Coach Riley leaned forward. "You really expect the Wolves to cooperate?"
My father looked at him with a dead face. "No."
The answer came so quickly that the room went quiet. "I expect them to look for opportunities. I expect them to push boundaries. I expect them to use every mistake we make against us."
His eyes moved toward me. "And I expect our players to be smarter than that."
The message was clear. This wasn't just about hockey.
It was about fifty years of hatred.
"Our rivalry with the Sterlings has lasted longer than most of you have been alive," my father continued. "That history matters. But so does control."
He paused. "Do not let them convince you that because we are sharing a building, we are suddenly family."
His gaze settled on me, making emphasis on every word."Especially not Gregory Sterling's daughter."
I held his stare.
"Kaitlyn Sterling is not her Father though," I said.
The room went still and my father's expression barely changed. "No."
A moment passed. "But she was raised by him."
That was my Father's theory.
When the meeting ended, everyone began leaving.
"Nate."
I stopped.
My father waited until the room was empty.
Then he walked toward the glass overlooking the rink.
"What do you think of her?"
I frowned. "Who?"
"You know exactly who."
I leaned back in my chair, inhaling deeply. "I've spoken to her once. Just once, Dad."
"And?"
"She's organized."
He looked at me with a little hint of uncertainty. "That's your entire opinion?"
I hesitated. "No."
"Then?"
"She's confident, Dad."
"That isn't usually a compliment coming from you."He muttered, his eyes holding mine like he was still searching for something.
"She isn't trying to impress anyone."
My father studied me carefully. "Interesting."
I ignored the comment.
"She walked into that hallway knowing everyone expected her to be another Sterling. She didn't care."
"And that bothers you?"
"No."The word left my lips too quickly.
My father's mouth almost curved. Almost. "Keep your distance, Nathan."
"I know."
"No." His voice became quieter. "You don't."
I looked back at him.
"You think I don't understand the rivalry?"
"I think you understand hockey," he replied. "I think you understand winning. But you have always struggled with knowing when something is dangerous."
I stood, slipping both hands into my pocket. "I'm not interested in Kaitlyn Sterling."
He nodded. "Good."
But the problem was that I wasn't entirely sure I believed myself.
The problem with trying not to think about someone was that the universe had a terrible sense of timing.
Two hours later, I stepped onto the main ice for practice and immediately knew something was wrong.
The Wolves were already there.
Their players stood near the blue line, dressed in full gear.
My team stopped behind me.
For a moment, nobody moved and then one of our forwards laughed. "You have got to be kidding me."
A Wolves player smirked. "Looks like someone forgot to check the schedule."
We were two teams on one f*****g rink.
Fifty years of whatever s**t we had ongoing.
All waiting for someone to make the first move.
Coaches from both sides started arguing and players exchanged insults.
A few members of the media standing near the entrance immediately lifted their cameras.
Of course they did.
Nothing sold tickets like a Kovac and Sterling fighting.
Then she appeared.
Kaitlyn Sterling walked onto the ice carrying a tablet, wearing a fitted black blazer instead of hockey gear.
She looked completely calm which somehow annoyed me more.
"Everyone off the ice," she said.
Nobody listened.
One of our assistant coaches turned toward her. "Director Sterling, my team has this slot."
She glanced at her tablet, her tone firm. "No, they don't."
His expression hardened. "You want to check that again?"
"I already did." She stepped closer and turned the screen toward him.
"The league schedule shows the Reapers have the secondary rink from nine until ten. The Wolves have the main ice from nine until eleven."
Embarrassing silence settled as everyone looked at the screen.
She was right.
I watched her carefully, she hadn't shouted or insulted anyone.
She had simply solved the problem and that was somehow more frustrating.
Because it meant she wasn't just Gregory Sterling's daughter.
She was actually good at this.
I turned toward my team. "We're moving."
Ricks, Allison, Jack, Briar… everyone of them looked surprised. "Captain?"
"We're moving."
Nobody argued after that.
As we left the ice, Kaitlyn looked at me.
For a second, neither of us spoke.
"Thank you," she finally said.
I almost laughed. "Don't thank me."
Her eyebrow lifted.
"I didn't do it for you." I shook my head, a small smile extending to only one cheek.
"Of course not." She turned away.
But before she walked off the ice, I noticed something.
A tiny smile that was barely there and it was gone before I could be sure I saw it.
By the end of the day, the league had already released a statement about the incident.
Not surprisingly, they were unhappy.
The emergency meeting lasted twenty minutes.
The decision lasted five seconds.
"Captain Kovac."
I looked at the league representative.
"Director Sterling."
Kaitlyn looked equally unimpressed.
"Effective immediately, all shared facility disputes will be handled through both of you."
Neither of us spoke as the grey haired man continued.
"Scheduling. Media conflicts. Resource disagreements."
He closed the file in front of him. "You will solve them together."
I looked at Kaitlyn and she looked back at me.
The expression on her face said exactly what mine did.
This was going to be a disaster.
Barely five minutes away from the meeting with the league representative, I received an email.
A league email.
When I opened it, my expression immediately changed.
MANDATORY COMMUNITY HOCKEY INITIATIVE
Attendance required.
Representatives:
Captain Nathan Kovac.
Director Kaitlyn Sterling.
Tomorrow morning.
I stared at the screen, hoping it was some ridiculous system notification but it wasn't and then I laughed once.
Because apparently surviving playoff pressure, media storms, and family expectations wasn't enough.
Now I had to spend my morning with the one woman in Harbor City who seemed completely unaffected by me.
Kaitlyn Sterling.
This season was going to be a f*****g nightmare.
- Writer
