BECKETT #2
I nodded. Back in high school, it had been all the same. Here, from day one, it had been the stuff of gossip. “But you never…?” I couldn’t even form the question. I wasn’t sure if it was the offensive nature of it or the fear of the answer that stopped me.
“Jesus, Beckett, of course not. Are you that insecure about your skill?” Uncle Nate’s voice was soft even when his words were not. They struck right at the core of it. “And would I risk my career for a bumbling baboon with a stick? You’re an excellent hockey player.”
I lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “Player, yeah. But I can’t see why Coach Murray named me the captain, Uncle.”
Uncle Nate snorted. “I can. It’s clear as day.”
My frown prompted him to go on.
“You really don’t see it?” he asked, tilting his head to one side.
Then he shook it in surprise. “I’ll grant you, it was a rough start.
I almost didn’t know if you’d make it. But your coach is as much a risk taker as you are, Son.
And the gamble paid off.” He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
His rectangular face was hard, but his brown eyes radiated warmth only an honest person can achieve.
“The Titans are on fire this season, Beck. Your team trusts you.”
“I can’t see why. All I ever did was drink, screw, and arrive late.” The admission rolled over my lips before I considered how smart it was to reveal such a truth to my closest family member.
He laughed. “You really are your uncle’s nephew.”
“When I saw you here, laughing, I really thought…” I swallowed. Then his words came to me and I frowned. “What do you mean?”
He gave a guileless smile. “I was the same, Beck. In high school, we used to get college kids to buy us booze. We broke into our own rink once, got wasted on the ice, got sick, and…well, you can put the pieces together. But there comes a time when you have to choose. Is that the life you want? Or do you want more? You’re not too late to make those choices, Beck.
And it looks to me like you already decided. ”
My chest felt heavy, like someone had piled rocks on it. Choices.
“Your coach trusted you with this responsibility because he saw your potential. You could have blown it. But you didn’t. Doesn’t that show you how right his choice was?” Uncle Nate talked to me almost like I was a blubbering mess when all I did was curve my lips down.
Responsibility. Risks. Choices. “Do you mean that?” I asked.
“No,” Uncle Nate said flatly. “I’m saying it to make you feel better.
You suck.” He cocked his lips at his own sarcasm and grinned.
I chuckled a little, but Uncle Nate stood and put a hand on my shoulder.
“Beckett, get these silly ideas out of your head. I’d move a mountain for you, but I wouldn’t build your career for you.
Hockey’s too important to me to disrespect everything and everyone by doing that.
And it wouldn’t be a favor to you, either. ”
I surged to my feet and wrapped my arms around the man who had been more of a father to me than he had ever been my uncle.
In fact, the very word, ‘uncle,’ represented to us what others translated as ‘father.’ I held him perhaps too tightly because he was frozen for an instant and then put his hands on my back, tapping and rubbing gently.
“Are you sure that is all that’s bothering you, Beck? Seems like…” He trailed off.
“I love you, Uncle,” I said, cutting off his words before he went too deep. I didn’t know how to say this to him. I didn’t know what he would tell me. And I had no idea what good would come out of it. But I knew I needed to rise to the occasion. It was time to stand up to the challenge.
Caden had put his trust in me. He had gambled by taking me to his bed and then by baring his soul. And all I had done in return was teeter on the edge, shrouded in the shadows, asking for more favors. It was time to be the person everyone thought I could be, including Caden. Especially Caden.
“I love you, too, Beck.” Uncle Nate pulled away from me, but his hands remained on my shoulders as he looked into my eyes. I had the same eyes. “Nothing can change that, Son. You know that. Right?”
I wasn’t so sure about it. And my heart clenched when I realized what I definitely was sure of. I had to put his words to the test. Perhaps that was why I took so long to step back from him. I might lose you after this, I thought. But I wasn’t going to tell him first. It didn’t feel right.
I nodded to his question, a knot tying in my throat, and blinked the stinging feeling from my eyes. “Wish me luck,” I said. My tingling fingertips made me restless. I needed this luck for much more than just the battle against the Vikings.
“You don’t need luck, Beckett,” Uncle Nate assured me. “You know exactly what you need to do.”
That I did.
Coach Murray returned a moment later, knocking on his own door to announce himself and I stepped back from Uncle Nate.
This was possibly the last time I saw the love and caring on his face.
Perhaps I was about to lose everything, but I needed to try.
There was more to gain if I played my cards right.
Caden waited on the other side of this equation.
And if that was my prize, maybe some things simply needed to be lost. If there was a choice to be made, I needed to choose the right one.
Uncle Nate winked at me as I headed out of the office.
It felt like walking through a dream as I crossed the long hallway to the locker room.
My guys were moving around restlessly down there and Caden was standing still in all that anxiety.
He hadn’t put his helmet on, but the rest of him was ready for the game.
His pads were fastened correctly, his jersey made him as handsome as ever, his stick was set against the wall, and his blades were on.
I still needed to change my shoes out for my blades and fetch my helmet, but I moved through the shifting mess of worried bodies without a pause.
A few glances came my way as I crossed the locker room and marched up to Caden.
He looked at me. The expressionless mask slipped for a single instant when he realized I was walking toward him. The hurt and apologetic look in his eyes battled, but he buried those right away. Lifting his chin a little, he cleared his throat. “Ready, Captain?”
“We need to talk,” I said quietly.
Caden’s eyes flashed with a deeper hurt then, but he hid it just as quickly. “Do we have to?” It was as close to a plea as his pride would allow it.
“We do,” I insisted.
“Alright, boys,” Coach Murray announced from the door.
What horrible timing, dammit. I didn’t look back and neither did Caden. “We haven’t done it the right way, Jones. I still have things to say.”
“One-minute warning,” Coach Murray called.
“Beckett,” Caden whispered, eyes on me alone. “I’d really rather not go there right now.”
“Please,” I said.
“This isn’t the time,” Caden said. “And neither was last night. I’m sorry for that. I just knew I couldn’t take it anymore. And now…”
“You need to listen to me,” I insisted.
Caden’s face contorted with grief. “Please, shut up, Beckett. Please. It’s bad enough already.”
“Caden…”
“Partridge, do you plan to run on the ice in those sneakers?” Coach Murray called.
“We’re not done,” I whispered.
Caden closed his eyes softly. I could see, then, the twinkle of his tears in his long, black eyelashes. His expression begged me to let it be done, but I couldn’t do that.
I jerked back when Coach Murray called my name again.
“Coming,” I said. I put my skates on while all the other guys dragged on their helmets and picked up their sticks.
We filed out of the locker room one after the other and I glanced at the line behind me.
Caden was looking elsewhere, but Jordan was looking into my eyes.
Asher, walking next to him, wore dread all over his face.
It almost felt like we were marching to a certain loss.
It felt as though true Vikings were awaiting us out on the ice.
I had failed before I had even tried to do the right thing.
All my wants existed in some suspended reality and I couldn’t tunnel my way between my world and the world where there was a happy ending for us.
Caden wished to leave it be; I was dying to get it all out.
And our scariest foe waited, inspired to kick our asses.
Perhaps I had been too distracted to give it enough thought.
Or I had simply underestimated just how rough the Vikings would be.
Whatever the case had been, it didn’t change the outcome of our first encounter.
Their big, beefy guys stormed our defenses and minced our players in the first period.
There was carnage everywhere I looked. For twenty minutes, we were getting fucked without lube in front of tens of thousands in the audience.
The Vikings rammed against us, never allowing us to rally a counter-offensive.
The few measly attempts I pulled against them were more simple prodding and probing than any real expectation of leading my team to win the first period.
Sawyer’s swift movements on the ice was our only saving grace in that block of time.
While his stature didn’t let him play as a human shield, simply blocking the goalpost against the enemy’s designs, it allowed him the sort of movement that surprised the Vikings all over.
We’d of course faced off against them in the past, but Sawyer’s conditioning and late-night activities increased his stamina by at least fifty percent in my eyes.
He minimized the damage by defending our goal post for the better part of the period, but we still left the ice bruised, battered, and well behind the Vikings.