Chapter Fifty-Eight

Theo

W e are in the last half of the third period, 5-1 with Sabretooths taking the lead over the Calgary Cougars. It has been a bloody game, the opposing team taking any chance they can to check us into the boards or try to start a fight; but despite this, our team is on fire. We literally have never played so well together, moving across the ice like pieces of a well-oiled machine. I have even managed to score a goal and two assists by the end of the second, garnering the wild approval of our fans and targeted attacks from the opposition. None of that matters though, because my girl is finally back where she belongs, front and center, cheering me on.

Skating into position for the face-off, I line up across from McMurray, one of my biggest rivals in the division, and wait for the puck to drop.

“Hey, looks like you got a new puck bunny hanging around. The whole arena is buzzing about it.”

I ignore him, trying to focus on the game.

“You know, I thought she looked familiar. Could it be, that she is the same crazy chick you fucked around on back in your rookie year? Looks like she finally came around to your throwing your dick around like its candy for the little bunnies to suck on.”

My fists clench the stick tightly, and I’m worried if he doesn’t shut up that I may just snap the damn thing in half.

“Since she doesn’t seem to mind sharing any more, maybe she would want to try me on for size. I’ve heard great things about fiery redheads. Wonder if she’s as wild as those curls of hers. Guess she would have to be, not waiting for the dust to settle on that last dude’s grave before jumping on you for a ride. She must make for one hell of a good time though, if you’re willing to risk all that crazy. Word around town is that bitch is psychotic. Tried trapping her last guy into marriage so she could get his family’s money. Wonder why she would come crawling over to you though? If she was so desperate for some loose cash.”

That’s it. I lose my fucking shit. Dropping my gloves to the ice, I am slamming into the asshole before the refs have a chance to blow the whistle. My fist slams into his face, knocking his helmet off, and I keep pounding into him. Blood splatters to the floor, and the screams and jeers of the crowd blur into a dull roar that echoes the ringing in my own ears. Hands grab at me, trying to pull me loose, but I shrug them off, throwing myself on top of the fucker as I continue to pound my fist into his face. I feel the satisfying crunch as his nose breaks and blood spurts across both of us, splattering down onto the ice.

It takes three teammates and two refs to finally drag me off the dude who is half-conscious laying on the ice. I swipe at the cut above my eye, removing the blood that has dripped down into my face as I suck my split lip into my mouth. The refs are in my face, yelling at me as they push me towards the sin bin, but I tune them out as my eyes automatically search the crowd for my girl.

Will she be upset that I started the fight? Embarrassed by the fact that I am more hot-headed on the ice than I used to be? Will she want to leave? I only just got her back, and I don’t want to do anything to push her away. But that fucker started shit-talking, and then mentioning her relationship with Brad? What the actual fuck? How does he even know about that?

I reach the box, throwing myself down onto the bench, and go to swipe at a bottle of water, drinking greedily. Looking over to my left, I just need to see my girl, reassure myself that we are okay. But when I look to where she should be sitting, her seat is empty, no sign of her or Tony anywhere. What the actual fuck?

I keep shooting glances over to their seats. Maybe she wanted snacks. Or needed to use the restroom. There could be lines. It’s no big deal. She didn’t just up and leave because she was so disgusted with me fighting on the ice. Danica has seen me get into it with other players before, albeit not very often. Normally, I am the more level-headed player on the team; though I will always throw down to support my teammates. It’s part of what makes me a good captain. Knowing when to use my fists, and being able keep a level head when tensions are high.

I have a five-minute penalty, and as the seconds tick by, each moment feels like agony. My face is displayed on the jumbotron multiple times in-between plays, and I know my focus should be on the ice, but I just don’t fucking care. The minutes are slowly passing by and there is still no sign of my girl or my cousin. What the hell is going on right now? If I could, I would just leave the game, go figure out what is happening. But this is an important match, and I can’t just abandon my team because I am having my own internal freak-out session. My knee bounces anxiously as I count down the seconds until I can hit the ice again, can signal a swap with another player so I can grab my phone and try to figure out where she is.

My time in the box runs down, and I am getting ready to jump back on the ice when I catch a glint of red out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head sharply, and the tightness in my chest eases as I see my girl settle once more into her seat. Her face is pale, shoulders tense, as she sits down next to Tony. Shit. Maybe she is mad at me for what happened on the ice. Dammit, I need to talk to her. My five minutes is up, and I hit the ice, coming to an abrupt stop at the glass directly in front of her.

Danica’s gaze is focused on the game but her eyes are glazed; it’s clear her mind is a thousand miles away. My teammates are signaling me to pay attention; I hear coach yelling at me to get my head in the game, but I am not fucking moving until I know my girl is okay. After what feels like an eternity, she finally notices me standing there, and she shoots me a small smile, no sign of her carefree jubilance from earlier in the game. My girl is definitely not okay. I frown, but she shakes her head at me, motioning that she is fine and to go back to the game. We’re definitely going to have to talk about this later. Reluctantly, I skate off to rejoin my team.

We are in the final minute of the game. After my little panic attack, coach yanked me out to lay into me for not having my head in the game and told me I needed to get my shit together. I agree completely, the only difference is the shit he thinks I need to get together is completely different for what I have in mind. He sends me back out in the final two minutes of the game.

Sabretooths are still in the lead, but the Cougars were able to manage two goals while I was stuck in the box. We are sitting at 5-3 now, and they are closing the distance on another goal. There is still a small chance they could manage to pull ahead but there is no fucking way I am going to let that happen. Moving quickly, I flank our forward, blocking one of the other team’s players as they try to steal the puck.

Samuels skates ahead, passing to Helmsy, and I check their forward, shoving him into the boards to make an opening for our guys to press ahead. He yells some nasty shit my way, but I keep my head down, intent on finishing this. Samuels has the puck again, and makes a shot, but it is blocked by the other team’s goalie, who sends it flying down towards our goal. One of their wingmen takes control of the puck and makes a dash, trying to get a clear shot, but Bruin is there to block him.

Robinsky takes control of the biscuit once more, and heads toward center, the Cougars hot on his heels. Samuels and Dillard go to block the Cougars, creating an opening and I push ahead, making my way down towards the goal. Marsh has the puck now and he passes to me. McMurray is headed my way, pressing in, but I fake a shot to the left before doing a quick turn, and with a sharp flick of the wrist, I send the puck flying. For a moment, the crowd is quiet, waiting on bated breath, and then the buzzer sounds our win as the puck hits the back of the net after just grazing past the gloves of their goalie.

Thunderous cheers sound throughout the arena, and my teammates all slam into me, cheering and slapping my back. I whip my head around, checking to see if my girl is watching, and there she is. Black rose a contrast in her coppery curls as they glint in the fluorescent lighting, blue and silver jersey with my name splashed across the back making a statement as she jumps up and down cheering for me.

Breaking away from the group, I skate towards her seats, motioning for her to go to the end where there is a door leading on to the ice. She is waiting for me by the time I get there, and I am reaching out to grab her. I skate backwards, Danica in my arms with her legs wrapped around my waist, and I fist my hands in her hair as I kiss her for all that I’m worth. My fucking woman. In my fucking jersey. Ignoring the cheers of the crowd, I am lost in the moment as she kisses me back, her hands reaching up into my sweaty hair to pull my head closer.

Panting, I pull my head back slightly, resting my forehead against her own.

“Congrats on your win! You were incredible!”

Well, shit. Compliments like that could really go to a guy’s head. But I have to focus, dammit.

“Are you okay?”

My words are quiet, meant for only her to hear as several of my teammates skate up to introduce themselves. I don’t miss the hesitation on her face as she bites her lip, before nodding.

“Diavoletta. Talk to me.”

There is a hint of something that flickers through her eyes, and I could almost swear it’s fear. She shakes her head. “Not here.”

My brows furrow in concern, and I press an urgent kiss to her forehead. “Tell me that we’re okay?”

A soft smile plays on her lips as understanding registers in her eyes. “We’re fine.” She kisses me quickly. “Now, put me down so you can go celebrate with your guys.”

I shake my head. No. We need to fucking talk, I can celebrate my win with her later. She is the only one that matters, anyway.

“Seriously. I’m fine. I promise I’ll talk to you about it later. Besides, don’t you have to hit the showers? I thought you have a plane to catch for your away games?”

Shit. She’s right of course. I only have a short window after the game before I have to load up on the bus with my team to head to the airport. Dammit.

“Meet me before I go?” I kiss her again, unable to let her go, to give up this moment with her .

“Okay.”