Chapter 23 Zane
ZANE
Ibarely said a word to anyone in the hours leading up to the game.
Before you ask, the answer is yes, that includes Jakob.
I wanted to warn him, or at least hint at what was coming, but I knew how much shit that would cause.
Forget about the whole “what happens in the locker room stays in the locker room” principle.
No matter how long and hard I thought about it, I couldn’t find a way to pardon this.
During warmups, I had to look away from Jakob at all times. Please don’t think I’m a bad guy for doing that. Deep down, I wanted to wave to him in the worst way, but I couldn’t. This was hockey. Serious business, you know?
While the national anthem played, the lyrics floated in one ear and out the other because I felt so preoccupied by thinking of ways to keep Jakob safe. For now, the only guarantee I could make was to not take a cheap shot at him or any other Larkin Lion.
But I could make no promises regarding my teammates.
Anthem finished, I approached center ice for the puck drop.
I stared Levi Dunn right in the face and realized how handsome he was.
God, it reminded me of appreciating Jax’s body more when I took the time to study it.
Rumor had it that Levi Dunn had a boyfriend, somehow that bucked stereotypes even more than Jakob and me.
I struck down that thought as soon as it crossed my mind because we had a game to win.
I kept telling myself that anyway.
Back to business.
Staring deep into Levi’s eyes, I wanted to psych him out during the face off. Sometimes those moments took forever. This faceoff was the longest of my whole life.
Finally, the ref dropped the puck, and I snatched it up, then used my speed to race away from Levi.
I slipped the puck to Jax Echlin who carried it past the blue line into Lions territory.
Then he passed the puck back to me. I wound up, slapped the puck, and launched it toward the net.
Ryan Detenbeck stopped the shot with ease but that didn’t stop our home crowd from erupting in boos like it’d been a seriously close shave.
Jakob took over at the next face off against Jax Echlin.
My boyfriend (Did I really just call him that?) swept up the puck and darted for the opposite end of the rink at lightning speed.
We all chased him, and I had to at least pretend to hunt him down hungrily for the sake of my teammates.
Oh hell, I was competing and wanted to win, so I caught up with Jakob and checked him into the board—but not that hard.
I only struck him hard enough to jar the puck loose and not inflict harm.
With the puck in my possession, I advanced a few feet, but Jakob didn’t follow.
It wasn’t because he lacked the speed to keep up with me either.
Jax Echlin hammered him from behind, causing him to hit the boards again and collapse onto the ice.
I gasped, struggling to hide my shock.
Before I could yell, “What the fuck are you doing?”, the ref blew the whistle and announced a two-minute roughing penalty on Jax. The home crowd booed the decision, despite the ref having clearly made the right call.
Jakob rose to his feet slowly, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs.
And I just stood there and watched. Yep, that’s right.
Jax nearly took my boyfriend’s head off and I did absolutely nothing about it.
But what would the Riptides have said if I’d gone to help him?
Maybe they would suggest I could give him a hug and kiss while I was at it.
Given my team’s current agenda, I doubted they would be so kind.
It had begun. The war, I mean. You could say that a war had always existed between Remington and Larkin, but that wasn’t true. There’s a difference between a fierce rivalry and all-out war, which I learned that night. Jax’s ridiculous hit on Jakob represented the first shot fired.
On the next play, Levi scooped up the puck and headed straight into our territory.
He wound up, slapped the puck, and fired it straight into the net.
The crowd booed his goal even worse than the completely warranted Jax Echlin penalty.
I felt totally confident that Levi would’ve flashed a double-barrel middle finger at the crowd if not for his hockey gloves.
Anyway, the score was zero-one, and I saw no reason to panic… about winning, I mean. Still early in the first period, we had a shit load of hockey left to play. I worried about my team’s extracurricular activities more than anything.
On the bench, Clay Morris leaned over and asked, “What gives, Hirst? You just gonna sit there with your thumb up your butt?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Dude, you had at least one really good chance to take Jakob Martin out and earn some serious bucks, and you left it all on the table.”
“I didn’t leave anything on the table. And I didn’t let Jakob Martin off the hook. I checked him into the boards, didn’t I?”
“That little love tap?”
“I wouldn’t call it a love tap, Morris. I hit him hard enough to make him cough up the puck.”
I picked up a bottle and squirted water into my mouth, wanting to ignore my teammate while wrestling with the overwhelming urge to defend myself.
“You saw what happened to Jax for the shot he took, didn’t you?” I asked.
“He got two minutes in the penalty box. Big fucking deal. It’s just collateral damage.”
“Collateral damage? Levi Dunn shot right down the ice and scored the moment we were short a man. I don’t know what you’ve been smoking.”
That shut my teammate up and, of course, I knew that the precious silence would be short-lived. Before we hit the ice again, he said, “Go out there and take Jakob’s head off, will you?”
Coach Mack’s Cut off the head and the body will die mantra echoed in my head, and I couldn’t force it out.
Thirty seconds remained in Jax’s penalty when the puck dropped again.
We quickly found ourselves a scrum behind the Riptides net, where I tried desperately to steal the puck from Jakob.
I definitely wasn’t standing there with my thumb up my ass.
I invested all the energy and might in my body because I put winning at the forefront.
You know, winning the right way?
I loosened the puck from the scrum and fired it down the ice. We all chased after it, only I focused more of my attention on Jax Echlin being freed from the penalty box.
Turned out, I wasn’t the only one watching, because I saw Levi Dunn turn his head once he saw my exiled teammate return to the ice.
I shot the puck to Jax, hoping he would take it into Lion territory, but Levi Dunn had other plans. He charged straight at Jax, knocking him into the boards with a ferocity I’d never before seen. I’m not saying I had to cover my eyes, but it was pretty damned rough.
Honest to God, it looked like a dump truck running over an ice cream cone.
Let that sink in.
When my teammate hit the ice. I honestly wondered if he would get back up. The rest of the Riptides went after Levi, and I followed, at least pretending to give a damn about Levi’s nasty bastard of a hit.
Payback is a bitch. I couldn’t believe I’d called that phrase to mind against the Riptides, especially with Larkin involved, but I couldn’t deny my team’s behavior reached beyond the pale.
The game officials needed several minutes to pull everyone apart and cool them down. Only suggesting that they could even be cooled down seemed so disingenuous. Both teams were fired up and there was no stopping them.
The lead official announced a two-minute penalty to Levi Dunn for roughing. Boos filled the arena because the crowd probably wanted Levi thrown out of the game entirely. I didn’t care what the refs did or didn’t do at that point. I just wanted the game to be over and done with in the worst way.
At least the Lions managed to capitalize on their power play. I sure as hell couldn’t say that about the Riptides. We wasted two whole minutes of five-on-four, constantly looking for shots to take.
Clay Morris knocked Jakob into the boards, using far more force than necessary.
Once Jakob steadied himself, he responded by checking Morris back.
Shit was about to get real. I skated up to them, feeling the overwhelming urge to slug my own teammate, but the Lions beat me to the punch (both figuratively and literally).
Once again, the officials intervened to prevent a brawl that surely would’ve made the Colter Bay Grill incident look like Sunday School.
I stood back and gazed upon Jakob. God, he was so beautiful. He looked even more stunning when he was getting his ass kicked.
Okay, I know how weird that sounds. I guess I couldn’t help admiring him no matter the moment. He was vulnerable and had a bullseye on his back. I would’ve given anything to help him.
When he glanced at me, I hoped he felt the same way, at least without the vulnerable part. I only hoped he knew I had nothing to do with the bullshit my teammates were pulling.
But would that be enough? I knew what they’d planned to do, hadn’t warned Jakob, and had done nothing to stop my meathead teammate from hurting him.
Back on the ice, Levi Dunn finished the remainder of his penalty and returned to action.
He slammed me into the boards, and I summoned all my might to absorb the hit.
When he stole the puck from me, I chased him down the ice and checked him into the boards.
Again, I did it the normal way, and didn’t try to take his head off.
That I felt like I’d run into a brick wall was another matter altogether.
When I steadied myself, I advanced on the net and scored on Ryan Detenbeck. The crowd went nuts. That at least tied the game at one, and I could say I’d contributed my share to the team, even if my contribution didn’t include cheap shots.
When the period ended, I bowed my head and thanked God nothing seriously bad had happened.
Yet.
As we marched into the locker room, I swore I’d just finished the longest period of hockey I’d ever played.
But that was okay. We only had another forty minutes of regulation left to go, right?