36. Game time
36
Game time
Exton
“Axe, mate, you are not that young to go at it for the whole night before the game.” Abel wiggles his eyebrows suggestively but in answer he gets a sneer and a low growl instead of a clap on a back for his stupid joke and he visibly takes a step back from me. “Okay, not in the joking mood, I see,” he adds and goes back to taping his stick.
I do the same, all while feeling the tension coursing through our locker room, the eyes on my back that are stealing glances at me whenever they can, checking how soon I’ll blow up again.
They feel it. They feel my energy and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Neither do I want to.
I didn’t slept a wink the whole night, arriving well over three in the morning, I barely dragged my feet through my apartment in the city. The one I haven’t been to in months and now nothing about it feels like home.
I was bone-deep tired and still couldn’t fall asleep on the mattress that didn’t feel like mine anymore or without her warm body pressed into me. The scent in the room was off, the noise, too loud.
Everything is wrong. Every fucking thing.
But I did the right one by letting her go.
Or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself. Although, it doesn’t change the fact that I destroyed myself in the process. I split my own soul in half and there’s no way I’ll get it back. And now I have to get on that ice and pretend like I have it all together.
Like I’m not missing the most vital piece of me. My calm.
I glance at the clock, it’s an hour until puck drop and about ten minutes until her boarding starts.
Why isn’t there a feature that tells you if the person boarded the plane? It would be so convenient.
Anddd a new level of stalkery is unlocked. Way to go, Axe . I drop the phone into my bag and pretend like I’m not counting the seconds to her take off.
Part of me—the selfish one—hopes she’d call or text. That she’d tell me it will be okay, but I still haven’t heard from her, not that I’m really expecting to. She needs to get what she’s been dreaming about. She needs to fulfill her dreams, and I’ll just stay here with my selfish thoughts.
It’s partly why I didn’t give her a definitive answer on the status of our relationship. How could I? No matter what answer I’d have it would hold her back.
But I can be patient. I can stay away until she wins her gold next year and then I’ll be there, it’s a small price to pay for her dream before I’ll be there begging at her feet to take me back. And if she’ll go back to that fucker, I’ll do anything in my power to fight for her.
Screw bro code, being a gentleman, and all that. In a year, I’ll get my other half of the soul back.
“Hey.” Sava sits on the bench next to me. “What’s going on? Where is your head at?”
“At Terminal B,” I grumble, continuing to tape my stick while mostly ignoring his narrowed eyes on me.
“Well, send an Uber for it, because we need it on that ice. You know who we are up against today, Exton,” he adds, and I grit my teeth.
It has to be them. My first game back and it’s against the Ice Devils.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, sure,” he says it like he doesn’t buy my crap any more than I am, but what other option is there?
“Is Electra coming tonight? I want to meet her,” Abel shouts from the other side of the locker room and the grip on my stick tightens until I hear it crack.
Next thing I know, my stick is flying across the room, straight into the wall and splitting in half.
“No. She’s not.”
“Well, well, well isn’t this my lucky day?” Yanis smiles wickedly, skating circles around me.
Calm. Stay calm. This is your game, not this fucker’s.
What if by some lucky chance she’ll watch the game? Show her you can be strong on your own. Show her! Don’t hold her back.
“You and I might have different interpretations of what a lucky day looks like.” I don’t bother to hide the sneer, and once again he is not one to back down, that challenge glinting like a pissed-on crap in his eyes.
“I guess we’ll see.” Yanis smirks and skates over to his side.
All too soon, the anthem is over, we get in positions, and it’s game time.
“The energy in the arena is absolutely insane today!”
“Oh yes, you can feel the tension of that tie between Florida Ice Devils and Boston Outlaws.”
“And it all comes down to this game. Whoever wins this one is onto the playoffs.”
“Well, it should be a good one because Exton Quinn is back on the ice. There he is, looking as menacing as ever.”
“Yikes, I’d be rethinking my strategy if I was the Devil’s head couch.”
“Yeah, Quinn looks to be on a warpath…but how many will he take down with him? How long do you reckon until the first power play?”
“With that look in his eyes? We’ll be lucky if we get a few minutes of five on five.”
“Exton, damn it! Stay away from him! Defense! Defense,” I hear coach yelling. I see him featuring wildly with his arms, but he might as well be screaming into the wall, outside this arena. I don’t actually hear him—my mind is all over the place. I can’t focus. I can’t keep the puck in my eyesight and I sure as hell can’t go onto offense.
The Ice Devils have been domineering the first period while we’ve been scrambling around, chasing them.
Severin is already tired, and it’s only been ten minutes, but he must’ve made at least ten saves in those ten minutes already.
“I see you still can’t play for shit, Quinn,” Yanis taunts me, his mouth guard hanging off his mouth. “Still the pissed off little boy as usual. Weren’t you in some kind of rehab? Oh, wait, no. You were actually on babysitting duty, right? With that crippled figure skater? How is she? Did you work your Axe magic on her or did she send you packing too? Man, you can’t even keep an invalid, no wonder all your girlfriends come right to me.”
All I see is red and the next thing I know, his jersey is balled up in my fist, my other hand reaching to plummet into his jaw when something tugs on me.
Not physically.
On the inside. Something tugs on me.
My breathing picks up, but my hand releases its hold on him. And he’s as surprised by it as I am.
“Shut the fuck up, Yanis,” Severin snaps, but I’m not paying attention to what they’re saying to each other. Not caring in the slightest about the crowd that’s beating against the glass behind me.
I’m searching. My eyes scanning the twenty thousand seats around the arena.
I feel it. I fucking feel it.
The piercing sound of the whistle cuts off the thread that I was pulling on, bringing me back into the game and I shake my head.
No, she can’t be here. Right?
She’s up in the air—where she should be. But I clutch the arm with her lips on it, rub my gloved finger over the tattoo, drawing a tiny bit of calm from it.
I have to get it together. For her. I have to get it together.
The game starts again and we manage to get a lead on them but then it all happens in a quick snap.
The Ice Devils passing the puck to each other, Fooley and Goram intercepting from our end.
The chase is on.
Zima has the puck and he’s flying toward Sava and I’m flying toward him but it’s too late, Yanis sends the puck into the net, it misses by a narrow margin but Yanis himself doesn’t.
He runs straight into Severin, knocking him over with his whole body.
Sava’s head is thrown back, his helmet is knocked off as his whole body hits the cold ice…he’s lying on his side…there’s blood.
We don’t think. None of us are thinking as every single Outlaw is out on the ice sending fists into every Ice Devil. But my eyes fix on Zima and I run straight into him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This is not just a little fight—this was done on purpose. Yanis slammed into him like that on-fucking-purpose. He wanted to hurt Sava. He wanted to make him bleed and it’s only fair I do the same.
“Die, motherfucker.” With all the rage I’ve bottled up over the past twenty-four hours, I send my fists flying, slamming him against the boards with enough force to shake across the entire structure and he fights back, trying to send one into my jaw, but I’m faster. Just like my last game here with him.
I plummet my bare knuckles into his nose once, twice and then once more until I hear a satisfying crunch of bone under mine, see the spray of blood flying past my cheek, and onto my jersey, but it’s not enough.
I want to drain him off it until he’s lying down like a helpless, useless waste of space he is and I’m a second from completely losing it. I know it. I can sense that thirst for his blood beating against my veins like it did last time.
I’ll kill him. I know I will.
But just as fast as that thought comes, another one overshadows it.
That’s enough, baby. Go see Severin. Please! Make sure he’s okay.
I hear it. I hear it deep in my soul. The painful cry, the fear, the worry. I hear it. My vision clears off the red and when I look up, there she is.
“Electra,” I mouth, and she looks at me with those icy blues, her palm pressed into the boards as she mouths, “Go! Go see Sava!”
She’s here and she’s trembling.
She’s here…
And she saw me lose it. She saw… Injury. A career ending injury. That’s what she sees right now.
Oh, God…without another second to waste I turn, leaving Yanis slumped against the boards and skate toward Severin.
He’s swarmed with doctors, there’s blood on the ice but he’s conscious.
“Sava!” I call out and he lifts his eyes to me.
“Is he still alive?” Severin asks over the mouthful of towel. He has them all over his face.
That fucker Yanis must’ve made one hard head contact.
“Unfortunately. Electra didn’t let me finish him off.” I give him a weak smile, and he manages to look up to where she’s standing and his eyes go wide. But not the good kind.
“What’s wr—” I start to ask but when I look back myself, I see what—or rather who—I missed before.
Aurora is there, both her palms pressed so tightly into the Plexiglass I’m sure she’ll tip it over. And a little to the side, there is Stella, holding Emett who’s watching Severin with tears in his eyes.
Goddamnit…
“Help me up,” Sava croaks out and I’m immediately there, giving him a hand as he manages to get on his feet despite the screaming doctor telling him to stay down.
Severin pushes off, skating across the ice and the arena goes wild, cheering him on but he’s by the boards.
“I’m okay, little man. I’m okay!” he shouts as loud as he can, and Emett nods, wiping tears off his face. Sava skates off the ice but not before looking right into Aurora’s eyes, although I’m not paying attention to what’s going on between them because my girl is here.
My Electra is here and before I can get all excited about it, she sends me a murderous glare.
What are you doing here? You were supposed to be on the plane . I let my eyes say.
“Waiting to hand you your ass, you bloody asshole!” she screams, folding her arms across her chest. “You just wait until the game is over!” And my head tips back as I laugh.
My angry elf is here.
“Four wide come the Devils. Nice zone entry by Zima. To Siga around the wall. Shot on goallll and it’s deflected by Minaev.”
“What a save! I still can’t believe he came back onto the ice for third period after that, but he’s not only back. He seems to be working extra hard. They all are.”
“Outlaws got the puck. Zlatan is on the move, Siga on him, he takes the puck and that’s a penalty!”
“Yes, that was a very clear tripping, so it looks like we are going on an Ice Devils power play with Zlatan sent to the box for two minutes.”
“And the heat turns up.”
“Last thirty on that power play, let’s see if the Devils can do anything.”
“The puck bounces off Zima to Quinn. Is he going to go for it himself? That’s what we’re used to seeing all season long.”
“No! Pass to Goram. But Zima is right there. Look at that! Goram slides the puck under Zima’s stick, reaches around him and he takes it!! SCORE! What a beautiful shorthanded goal!”
“Goram scores for the Outlaws with a beautiful pass from Quinn. What great teamwork!”
“This is what we’ve wanted to see all season long. The arena is going wild! The Outlaws are in the playoffs!!!”