A Gilmore's Return

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Fractured Focus

The tension in the rink was electric as the crowd cheered for their respective teams. Both sides were strong contenders, their players relentless in pursuit of the puck. Riley, Beau, Avery, and Quinn's team moved with precision, but there was a subtle unease on the ice. Avery's movements were calculated, almost too rigid, a stark contrast to his usual fluid, effortless style.

From the opposing bench, Marcus stood out. Number 24. Broad-shouldered, calm, and exuding an air of quiet authority, he was hard to miss. He hadn't spoken to anyone on Avery's team, but his gaze lingered on Avery far too often during games, drawing attention.

Quinn had noticed it before, how Number 24 seemed fixated on Avery during past matchups. It was subtle but undeniable. And now, as Marcus skated toward his bench after a shift, his eyes locked with Avery's for a fleeting moment, and Avery's jaw visibly tightened.

The team gathered in the locker room before the match, their energy a mix of excitement and nerves. Riley was cracking jokes, Beau was hyping everyone up, and Quinn was pretending not to laugh as someone whipped a towel at Leo's leg. The playful atmosphere was a distraction, but it wasn't enough to fully mask Avery's quiet tension.

"Alright, people," Beau announced, clapping his hands together. "After this win, I say we hit the best place this town's got. Celebrate in style."

"Assuming this town has style," Riley quipped.

Leo smirked. "We'll make it work. It's about the company anyway, right?"

"Sure," Quinn added, grabbing his water bottle. "As long as that company includes wings and fries, I'm in."

The group laughed, their energy infectious, but Quinn caught the way Avery sat silently on the bench, staring at his skates. Something was off.

"Hey, Parker," Beau called out. "You good?"

Avery looked up briefly, his expression neutral. "Yeah. Just getting in the zone."

Quinn exchanged a glance with Riley, but neither of them pushed further. Everyone had their own way of handling pre-game jitters.

As the team filtered out toward the rink, Avery hung back. He knew he needed a moment alone, and he knew who he needed to find.

Marcus was leaning against the wall near the exit, arms crossed and helmet under his arm. The two locked eyes as Avery approached.

"You always did have a flair for theatrics," Marcus said, his tone sharp but quiet.

"Is this the part where you try to psych me out?" Avery asked, keeping his voice even.

Marcus smirked. "I don't need to. You're doing a fine job of that yourself."

Avery clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. "Why are you here, Marcus?"

"Same reason as you. To win." Marcus's expression darkened, his smirk fading. "But let's not pretend that's all this is about."

"You've been watching me every game," Avery said, his voice low and edged with frustration. "Whatever you're trying to prove-"

"Don't flatter yourself," Marcus cut in, stepping closer. "You're not that important."

Avery's chest tightened, but he refused to let Marcus see how much the words stung. "Fine. Then stay out of my way."

Marcus chuckled darkly. "Oh, I'll stay out of your way. But don't expect me to go easy on you out there. Blood or not, you're just another player to me."

Avery didn't respond, turning sharply and heading toward the rink.

The game began with intensity, the puck flying across the ice as both teams battled for control. Riley and Beau were everywhere, working in perfect sync to outmaneuver the opposing team's defense. Quinn held his ground, watching for opportunities to strike.

But Avery wasn't himself. His movements were sharp, precise, but lacked the usual fire he brought to the game. Quinn noticed the way his focus faltered every time Marcus skated near him, the tension between the two impossible to miss.

"Stick with it, Parker!" Riley shouted during a break in play, clapping Avery on the back.

Avery nodded, forcing himself to shake off the distraction. He could feel Quinn's eyes on him, but he was grateful his friend didn't say anything. Quinn had a way of knowing when to push and when to stay quiet, and Avery appreciated the silence more than he could say.

The first period ended with the score tied, and the team gathered on the bench. Beau was already strategizing, Riley chiming in with ideas. But Avery stayed quiet, his gaze drifting to the opposing bench, where Marcus was laughing with his teammates.

Quinn leaned over, lowering his voice. "You sure you're okay?"

Avery hesitated, then finally muttered, "That guy. Number 24."

Quinn frowned. "Yeah? What about him?"

Avery exhaled, his voice barely audible. "He's my brother."

Quinn's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't say anything right away. After a moment, he nodded. "Okay."

Avery glanced at him, surprised. "Okay?"

Quinn shrugged. "If you want to talk about it, you will. If not, I'll just be here doing my thing. Your call, Parker."

For the first time that night, Avery felt a small weight lift off his shoulders. "Thanks, Quinn."

"Anytime," Quinn said with a grin. "Now, let's go out there and make sure your brother eats his words, whoever he is."

Avery chuckled softly, his tension easing slightly. Maybe he wasn't ready to tell Quinn everything yet, but for now, knowing someone had his back was enough.
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