Chapter Thirty

Theo

A nticipation rushes through me as a wave of adrenaline courses through my veins. The beat of my heart is pounding in a synchronous chorus with the cheers of the packed arena. It’s moments like this that I live for, this is why I love what I do. Going into the third period, we were tied 2-2, and now we are down to the final two minutes of the game, pushing forward for that winning goal.

I drive the puck hard down the ice. Kingston, a defender for the opposing team, crashes into me, slamming both of us into the wall as we fight for control of the biscuit. Bruin and Marsh are at my side in an instant, shoving away the opposition and clearing a path for me once more.

With a carefully practiced move, I send the puck to Helmsy and break away from the tangle of bodies trying to crash into me once more. As one of the fastest players in the league, I have spent years honing my speed and agility, and I feel the wind pushing back as I rush forward, nimbly avoiding their star defenseman as I go. They don’t call me “Slick” Giovanni for nothing. Pushing myself, I make a run down the ice towards the opposing team's goal and Helmsy, “Hotshot,” banks hard to the left, sliding the biscuit between the opposition before they knew what hit them, as he makes a pass back to me.

Swinging my stick, I fake a shot to the right, sending their goalie diving into a butterfly, trying to block the oncoming puck with his legs, but I quickly shift and pull a Howitzer, firing the puck into the top left corner of the net instead. The red light signals our winning goal as the buzzer sounds the end of the game. My teammates all slam into me, patting my head, my back, my shoulders, wherever they can reach as we join the crowd in celebrating our win.

After exiting the locker room a short time later, I am dressed down in casual sweats and a tee as opposed to the game day suit, we are required to wear before the start of each game. Shouldering my bag, I make my way down the long corridor. It has been a long night at the end of a couple long-ass weeks spent juggling my games and practice with trying to keep a close eye on my girl from the shadows. I need to get back to my hotel room so I can shoot off a message to check in with Tony, see if there’s been any updates on my girl’s stalker situation or the fucking blackmail situation that still seems to be making very little progress.

“Good game out there, Giovanni.”

I come to an abrupt stop, my shoulders tense as I roll my neck from side to side. I have to fight the urge to clench my fists as I slowly turn around. Fucking Jonathan .

My eyes widen in shock as I see who is standing with him. “Caleb. Bro.” I make my way forward to give my old friend a hug when I am knocked back by a sucker punch to the jaw. “What the hell was that for, asshole?” Gritting out the words as I rub away the ache in my jaw. That was a fucking low blow, even for him.

“Stay the fuck away from my sister, Giovanni.” Ah. So, he heard about our little run-in last week.

“You fucking narc on me, Jonathan ?” My voice comes out in a taunting sneer and I force down my satisfaction at the sight of him stepping forward, only to be pulled back by Caleb. If he wants to fight, then let’s fucking go. “What is your problem, asshole?”

Jonathan takes another step forward, only to be restrained by Caleb once more. “You. You are my fucking problem! You just couldn’t stay the fuck away, could you? It wasn’t enough for you to break her fucking heart. You had to waltz back in like the fucking psycho that you are just to screw with her head, and toy with her emotions.”

Caleb steps between us now, tension radiating off him in waves. One of my best friends since freshman year of college, we have always been close despite our vast differences. After everything went down with Danica though? Well, things have been strained to say the least. We don’t speak as often anymore, outside of our group chat and semi-annual hangouts. Cutting a sharp look at Jonathan, which I take to mean ‘back the fuck off,’ he turns to face me fully. “What the fuck are you doing, G?”

I consider my options. I could lie to him, could skirt around the issue. But we have been through literal hell together. What went down with Danica? When his little sister, the love of my life, was beaten to a bloody pulp and almost killed not once, but twice? First by her ex, then by their own father because we thwarted his sick plan to sell his daughter off to the highest bidder; regardless of what a fucking psycho that person was?

Even after everything I went through, every fucking beating I took growing up, every time I watched my own Ma play punching bag to my drunk old man, nothing could come close to the hell that I experienced watching my precious Little Sparrow endure everything she went through. And I know it was hell for Caleb too. Bradley may have died by my own hands that night, but Caleb was in that fucking room too.

And that shit? Those are the ties that bind you for life. So, when it comes down to it, here and now? I can’t lie to my brother. We may not be blood, but we are tied together through our love for Danica. And one day, one day soon, we would be tied together in more tangible ways through her too. So, I don’t evade the question, even with fucking Jonathan here listening.

Shifting my jaw from side to side to rub out the ache, I respond. “What do you think I’m fucking doing, Caleb? I’m getting my girl back.”

“The fuck you are!” I thought the words would come from Jonathan. I wasn’t expecting the exclamation to come from Caleb, but I hide my surprise well. “You broke her heart, crushed it in a way that that fucker never could, and now you expect to just waltz back in as if no time has passed, no water under the bridge? It’s not fucking happening, man. I love you, but she is my sister, and if I have to get my point across, I will beat the shit out of you to prove it.”

Caleb clenches and unclenches his fists, and I can see his anger and hurt. I don’t doubt him, when he says he will beat the shit out of me. He will try, and I would let him, because I do fucking deserve it for hurting my girl, but that privilege belongs to her and her alone. “That’s not your job. I know you want to protect her Caleb, we all do. But if anyone deserves to beat the shit out of me, it’s her. It’s not your place to take that away from her.” Over Caleb’s shoulder, I see Jonathan watching us, see the calculating look in his eye as he takes measure of me.

“I know you think I hurt Danica, but there is more to the story than what you think you know. And what happened back then? Well, that’s for the two of us to work out. If I have learned nothing else from all this time spent apart from her, it’s that no one deserves to take that away from her. Whatever happens moving forward, it’s going to be her choice. Not yours. Not even mine. But make no mistake. She is going to fucking choose me .” I say this last part while glaring over at Jonathan.

Caleb moves back several steps, coming to stand next to Jonathan, who is glowering over at me with his arms crossed. Neither says anything, and I just stare back at them silently, refusing to back down. After several beats, it’s Jonathan who nods first, before Caleb agrees. “Fine. But if you fucking hurt her again, make no mistake. I will fucking end you. I don’t give a damn that you’re my brother, that we’ve been through hell together. I don’t even care that you are. . . well, you know. I. Will. End. You.”

I nod sagely in agreement. “I would expect nothing less.” And then I grin. “Now that we’ve kissed and made up, you pretty boys gonna take me out to wine and dine me? I mean, you did come all the way out here just to see me.” I smirk as I start walking backward, down the corridor once more.

Caleb just shakes his head, and I swear I hear a murmured “psychotic asshole” from Jonathan, but they move to catch up to me anyway.