Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
JESSIE
“ S omeone’s got a spring in their step.” Jensen smiles at me as we board the team plane to Dallas.
Never did I think I’d be practically skipping onto a flight back to my hometown. But after last night, there’s no bringing me down. “Life’s good right now. What can I say?”
We take a seat next to each other, and Jensen turns to look at me. “You could start with, Thank you for always being right and pushing me to go after the girl .”
I roll my eyes and pull my headphones and cell from my carry-on bag. When I open up the playlist, it’s set on Adele’s album, and the last track played was “Make You Feel My Love.”
I inwardly smile and set my headphones over my ears.
Jensen looks over at the album playing and mouths, Simp .
“All right, listen up.” Coach Burrows closes the overhead bin and turns to the rest of the team. He points at me, and I pull off my headphones and wait for him to speak. “Thanks for joining us, Callaghan. All right, tonight’s game is a late one. It’s a grueling game, and that’s why this morning’s skate was light. I need you to be as rested as possible. Take on extra fluids, eat well, grab a massage from the trainer when we land and get to the hotel. The key to this win is preparation.”
Jensen dips his head down to me. “What about you, Jessie? Have you eaten well?”
I quirk a brow. “What I ate is none of your damn business. But my fist is on the menu if you want that.”
He throws his head back into the seat and laughs.
“Something funny, Jones?” Coach props his hands on his hips.
“Nothing. Just having a bit of fun with Callaghan here.”
“Figures. Well, save the joking around until after we get the W.” Coach spins around and takes his seat at the front.
From a couple of rows down, Zach unclips his belt and walks toward us. Leaning his forearm on the empty seat in front, he lowers his voice. “So, you know how Tate Coulson gave up the C at the start of this season?”
Jensen nods. “Yeah, taking a step back in preparation for retirement.”
Zach’s lips pull to the side as he looks down at the floor and then back up at us. “I don’t know if it’s because they expect the game to be physical or one of their first-line defensemen is carrying an injury we aren’t aware of, but word is, he’s gonna be starting tonight.”
My stomach twists. “So, you’re telling me they want to give a slower, older guy more ice time over younger alternatives?”
Zach shrugs. “That’s what I said to Jon when he texted me to say there’re rumors circulating in the press that he’s being favored over Sanchez.”
“Probably picked something up in early practice. Or it’s bullshit, and they deliberately started a rumor to try and force Burrows’s hand to make changes to our lineup, only for Sanchez to start anyway,” Jensen replies.
Zach taps the seat once with his fist. “Yeah, maybe, but all I’m saying is, something doesn’t feel right. He’s no longer the captain, and he doesn’t have the same expectation on his shoulders to set an example for the team. I should know—once an enforcer, always an enforcer.”
“I don’t like this,” Zach says from his bench as we make the final preparations to head out onto the ice. “Warm-up felt weird; the entire atmosphere is weird.”
“It’s just a big game getting in your head, Cap.” Jensen claps a hand on his shoulder as he strides out of the locker room.
Zach stops me with a hand on mine as I follow him. “Has Tate said anything to you?”
“In the warm-up?” I shake my head. “No.”
“Would he normally?” Zach asks, chewing on the side of his mouthguard.
Pulling on my helmet, I blow out a breath. “I’ll admit, it’s strange that he’s in first line tonight, but Coulson hasn’t said a word to me since the second I got traded. We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”
Zach’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”
“Mia. He had a thing for Mia and his head firmly up Jenkins’s ass. But that was years ago, man.”
“Is there a chance he knows?”
I shake my head, remembering Mia’s confidence in Tara. If her dad knows, then there’s no way Mia wouldn’t, and we definitely wouldn’t have been having text sex an hour ago. “No chance.”
As I step into the rink, I raise my hand and acknowledge a crowd who, over time, has accepted me back onto their home ice. At first, my trade was controversial, and I lost a lot of fans, but as I skate past the boards, a bunch of Destroyers fans show their appreciation. There’s a small part of me that would like to see the end of my career back in this arena, but I know that would mean moving back to a city where my dad could get to me and those I love more easily.
When I skate past Zach to get into position for the puck drop, he tips his head at me, reminding me to keep my eyes up.
There’s no denying that there’s zero love lost between me and my former captain, but I’ve been on the ice with him plenty of times since I got traded to the Scorpions. Tate would need to look at me to take me out. And since the day I left the Destroyers, he’s barely acknowledged my existence. Sure, he’s an asshole, but he’s no Alex Schneider—the former New York Blades defenseman who nearly killed Zach a couple of seasons back with a dirty hit, all because of his former girlfriend.
It must be ten minutes into the first period when I pick the puck up from our center, the move eliminating two players, one of them Coulson.
With an inside-outside move similar to the one I pulled off against Colorado, I take out their final defenseman and slot the puck home with a snapshot that catches their goalie off guard. When I light the lamp, it takes my tally to thirty for the season so far, and as I pump my fist in the air, keeping it low-key since it’s my former team, I can’t deny I have one eye on Wayne Gretzky’s record for most goals in a single season.
“All right, that’s how we fucking do it!” Rob Jackson, our center, bangs his glove on top of my helmet. “Fucking goal machine, bro!”
I point back at center ice, my focus locked in and my head already running through the next play. “There’s another fifty minutes of game time. We’re gonna need at least another four to seal the W.”
“Damn right we are.”
When Jackson skates out of my line of vision, I see Zach raise his glove at me, pointing to my left.
“What?” I shout, knowing full fucking well he won’t hear me over the noise.
“Finally got your shit together, Callaghan.” As Tate Coulson pulls up alongside me, he throws ice up, causing the Destroyers fans to bang on the glass behind us.
I don’t know if they’re anticipating a fight, but they should know I’m not one to get into it on the ice.
“Did you trade your voice for some class?” Coulson sneers as I ignore him and push off.
I know I shouldn’t, but my newfound game confidence gets the better of me, and I spin around at the final second. “Nah. Just found a captain I actually want to play for.”
He throws his head back and laughs before refocusing his attention on me.
I don’t like the look in his eyes as he slides up closer.
“Or is it more to do with the pussy you were inside last night? You’d think she’d have wised up the first time around.”
My heart hammers in my chest as I fight to keep my expression unreadable. “The fuck did you just say?”
Replacing his mouthguard on a smile, he skates forward and then stops right next to me. “Jenkins knows. But don’t worry; it can be our little secret for the next fifty minutes. Can’t promise it won’t hurt though.”
My head is spinning out when I take a seat on the bench, watching the game play out in front of me.
How the fuck does he know?
Tara. It’s gotta be Tara.
“Callaghan, you’re back in. I want the same performance again.” Coach’s booming voice snaps me from my trance as I rejoin the play and immediately pick up a loose puck, handing us a turnover.
When two defensemen come charging for me, I consider the option of pulling off a similar move as last time. But neither of them is Coulson, who hangs back down the wing.
As much as I’m shitting myself over the prospect of Graham knowing, I’m pissed that Coulson thinks he can threaten me and talk shit about Mia.
I know he’s slow and he doesn’t stand a chance when I hit the jets, and that’s exactly my game plan as I head straight for him.
The deke I throw offers me the perfect chance to thread the puck through his open legs, embarrassing the shit out of him, and I’m sure he can hear my laugh as I hit overdrive and accelerate away, my head up and ready to pass the puck off to Jackson to put us up by another goal.
But as I set up, ready for the pass, my stick doesn’t connect with the puck; instead, my jaw does when I hit the ice so fucking hard that the noise of the crowd fades in my fight to stay conscious.
When I roll over, Coulson’s face is the first thing my blurry vision recognizes as I bring my gloves to my jaw.
“Fuck you, Callaghan!” he shouts, spitting on my jersey. “You think you can just disrespect the man who gave you everything?!”
“Nah, bro, fuck YOU!”
I watch from my back as Zach lands the first punch against the side of Coulson’s head, sending him straight back and into the boards.
Climbing to my feet, I look down to see a puddle of my blood freezing on the ice. Blood has never bothered me, so I know the nauseating feeling rolling through my stomach is either from the pain or a concussion.
“No one messes with my wingers!” Zach spits, landing another punch on Coulson’s helmet, and it flies across the ice. “I fucking knew you were gunning for him!”
My vision is shit, but even I can see the fury in Zach’s eyes as he lands punch after punch, each one sending Coulson closer to the ice until he lands flat on his back.
Zach doesn’t stop beating on him until the ref pulls him off. Calling a major penalty against Coulson for taking my legs out with his stick and the same for my captain for fighting.
“Game’s over, son.” Coach Burrows wraps his arm around my shoulders as I step off the ice, my glove clutched to my chin to help stem the bleeding.
I shrug off his arm and turn to him as the team doctor shouts for me to follow for treatment. “I need to speak with Graham. Where is he?” I say, knowing he’ll have eyes on me from somewhere in the arena.
The empathetic look on Burrows’s face turns to stone. He knows I would only be asking for Graham’s whereabouts for one reason. “No fucking idea, Callaghan. But if you’re asking for the reason I think you are, I’d say there’s a fair chance he’ll find you. Now, get off the ice and get that jaw looked at.”