Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
Deacon
I’m on the ice for morning skate— my focus was a little off, but timing is everything. And my time is now.
“Sterling,” Faulkner calls across the rink as we head in. “You even live at the Pad anymore? Or is that just your mailing address?”
Killer grins. “Yeah, man, we’re thinking of subletting your room.”
Dash is on cloud Noelle, “Can’t help it if I’ve got better company.”
Hate to take this away from him, but you gotta do what you gotta do.
“Listen up … I’m gonna propose tonight. At Icehouse. Win or lose, I want you all there after the game. Bring your girls.”
The room goes still for a beat … then erupts—whistles, claps, shouts of approval.
“Gotta win it then,” Killer says, clapping him on the back.
“Savannah’s covered,” Koa adds. “We’ll get Paul to our place.”
I look at him, “How do you—”
“You two have been shacked up for weeks at the Bridgeview, how did we not know?”
“You didn’t say shit,” I shake my head.
“Some things don’t need to be said.” He winks.
We’re on the bench talking game plan and strategy, I kind of feel like shit about thinking it was funny with Dash now, but whatever.
It’s all lined up—game, proposal, celebration. Just one thing left …
“Show us the ring, man.”
Fuck.
“You don’t just wing this shit,” Koa grumbles.
“I mean, technically, he does.” Killer chuckles.
“Fuck you.” I sneer.
“All right, ease up. We got this covered like a red dress the night before a wedding.” Dash laughs. “Let’s roll. I got a replacement bed being delivered at noon.”
Faulker chuckles. “You broke her bed?”
“That ain’t shit. I stole her heart, too.” He grins.
By eleven fifteen, we’re wedged in traffic, Dash’s driver, Joel, inching the SUV forward, and I’m scrolling through rings.
“You’re sure tonight’s the night?” Faulkner asks.
“Positive. Icehouse feels right. She deserves this.”
“All right then,” Koa says, flicking through images. “Halo, solitaire, vintage. What’s Claudia’s style?”
“Simple,” I say. “No flash. She wouldn’t wear something gaudy.”
Killer shows me a picture on his phone. “So, not this one.”
Then Dash says, “That. It’s perfect. She’ll wear it every day. Looks like it belongs on her already.”
He hands me the phone, and I see it. It’s perfect. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
Koa taps on the screen and then holds it out for me to see, “Done. They’ll hold it for two hours. We’ll swing by for pickup.”
I don’t go home after I get the ring; I head to the arena.
“Marshall, you need to rest, kid,” I call to him.
“Just trying to feel it,” he says, frustrated.
“You talk to Doc yet?” I ask.
“Nah, she’s busy with real problems, I’m sure.”
“She’s not too busy for you. But right now, let’s you and me go get a meal, and I’ll tell you how awesome she is.”
“You see her yet?” he asks as he skates in.
“I’ve seen enough to know I’m going to marry her as soon as she says yes.”
He smiles, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to a thrilling night of action between our Brooklyn Bears and the Vancouver Vortex, here at Costello Arena!”
The roar of the crowd is alive tonight, but I only care about two people in it. Okay, maybe more, but yeah, it’s a big night.
“Are you ready for some hockey?” the announcer bellows, and the crowd answers in unison, a sound that rattles my bones and makes me feel, for the briefest second, like nothing bad can touch me here. “It’s time to get loud, get on your feet, and show some love for your Brooklyn Bears!”
“Moretti.” Coach D nods to the front. “You’re up here.”
I look at Hank, making sure he’s good, although he and I already talked about it, it’s still gotta sting.
Dash yells out, “Plot twist.”
Koa nods. “Moretti is starting in goal, which is where he belongs. He’s put in the time.”
I watch Hank skate back to them. I expect him to be a little off, but he’s grinning.
“You good?” Koa asks.
“Am I good?” He laughs. “Fuck yes. I’m home, man.”
From the drop, Vancouver is playing dirty, elbows high and sticks higher, and Stone gets railed on jump.
Vancouver makes it clear from the first face-off that no one is leaving this game without a bruise.
Giulietti answers using his body as a human battering ram, and their center is sprawled out on the ice.
“Fucker’s gonna stay there, too,” Stone says as he skates by. He turns, skating backward, grinning with all the menace of a wolf with a fresh kill. “Am I right, or am I right?”
“You tell no lies, Stone!” Dash, who you’d actually think is high, since he and Noelle became a thing, shouts back.
I do what I do and keep it out of the net.
I have never wished a game away before, but tonight, tonight is lined up to perfection. She knows it’s coming; she gave the green light, but I hope this shows her how much I care.
I fucking love her.
The second period is just as bad, but the score is 0-0, so we’re not losing.
Rivera goes center and then left, takes the pass, and feeds it across to Dash, and he snaps it, top shelf, clean past their goalie’s glove.
Third period Coach asks, “You good?”
“I’m good.”
“Heard a rumor.”
“Yeah, you’re gonna be there to see if it’s just a rumor or there’s any truth to it?”
“You bet your ass I am.” She looks at the time and then at me. “You wanna make sure your face stays pretty and let Williams finish out the last two minutes?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“You think he can keep the score where it stands?”
“No doubt.”
She nudges me as he skates toward the boards, “Turn him around.”