CHAPTER 11
THE PUCK STOPS HERE
***
Madison
My heart pounds as I watch Zach and Mark battle. The tension ratchets up tenfold when Zach throws down his gloves. My stomach twists, and every fiber of my being is on edge. Watching them come to blows overwhelms me to the point I can barely breathe.
I watch Zach as the ref escorts him to the penalty box. His face is bloodied, but his eyes remain fierce. My heart swells with emotion. I can’t help but think he fought for me.
Me.
I want to rush the ice and wrap my arms around Zach, and let him know how much he means to me. But my presence here has been enough of a distraction. I don’t need to add fuel to the fire. I stay in my seat, gripping the edge of the bench as the game resumes, waiting for Zach’s time in the penalty box to be over.
The penalty buzzer sounds, and Zach steps back onto the ice. My heart leaps as I see him rejoin the game. He’s moving with purpose, every stride powerful and determined. The tension between the teams is thick, and I know it’s only a matter of time before Mark pulls a stupid stunt. He isn’t one to back down.
The puck drops, and the play is fast and furious. Zach is everywhere, his presence commanding. He’s skating harder than he did during practices, pushing himself to the limit. Mark is back, too, circling like a predator, neither man giving the other an inch.
The puck flies across the ice, and Zach intercepts it, driving it toward the Predator’s goal. Mark is on him instantly, their bodies colliding with a force that causes me to wince. The crowd jumps to their feet, the noise deafening as the two men struggle for control.
Anger sparks in Mark’s eyes, the frustration of being bested getting the better of him. He throws a cheap shot, his stick jabbing at Zach’s side. Zach grits his teeth, shoving Mark away and keeping his focus on the puck. He maneuvers around him with a skill and focus that takes my breath away.
As Zach powers towards the goal, my own determination rises. I can’t hide behind fear and doubt any longer. I know now, without a doubt, how much he means to me. I have to tell him. He has to know.
Zach sends the puck flying into the net with a final, powerful shot. The arena erupts in cheers, the goal lights flashing. I jump to my feet, a mixture of relief and pride flooding through me. I scream Zach’s name as loud as my lungs allow. He did it. He scored.
The victory is short-lived. Mark charges at Zach, rage fueling his attack. They collide, and this time, it’s more than just a scuffle. It’s a full-on brawl. Fists fly, and fury flashes in their eyes. The refs and their teammates rush to break up the fight, but it’s chaos.
My heart thunders in my throat as Zach and Mark are pulled apart. Blood drips from Zach’s nose, but his eyes are fierce and unyielding. Mark shouts something at him, his face twisted with anger, but Zach just shakes his head, his gaze unwavering.
As they’re both escorted back to their respective penalty boxes, the toll it’s taken on Zach is obvious. He’s battered and bruised, but the fire in his eyes tells me he’d do it all over again.
The game continues, but I can’t focus on it. My eyes keep drifting back to Zach and how he holds himself with determination in his every move. He’s more than just a player. He’s a protector, a defender.
When the final buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game, the crowd erupts in applause. The Saints won, but I can only think about getting to Zach. I push through the throng of people, making my way to the locker room area.
I flash my press badge at security and scramble toward the locker room. As I reach the corridor, I see him. He’s standing there, talking to one of his teammates, a towel pressed to his bloodied nose. When he glances up and sees me, for a moment, everything else fades away–the crowds, the noise, and any lingering doubt.
I rush to his side, my heart in my throat as I catch a whiff of his blood and sweat. “Are you okay?”
“Just a few bruises.” His voice is rough but filled with relief. He nods as a small smile tugs at his lips.
How on earth can he smile when he’s bloodied and bruised? I reach for him but pull back, afraid I’ll grab a sore spot or worse.
“I’m so sorry this happened,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “This is all my fault.”
“None of this is your fault.” Zach reaches for me, and I step into his arms as relief floods through me. “Mark had it coming. Any prick who thinks he can mess with the woman I love is on notice right now. I’ll fight for you, Madison. Every day, every time.”
I bury myself in his chest, allowing his words to soak into my skin, heart, and lungs. Tears sting my nose and eyes, but I don’t care if I cry. It isn’t weakness. It’s love.
“I love you, Zach Brooks.” I blink back the tears and throw my arms around his neck.
He lifts me off the ground, planting a bruising kiss on my lips. He’s salty and sweaty, but he’s mine, and I’m never letting him go.
***
Zach
After a quick shower and Q&A session with the press, I make a beeline to Madison at the back of the room. She’s more than someone I care about. She’s my family, someone I’ll protect no matter what. Mom and Lauren have taught me that family always comes before self.
The press gave me a good grilling about the scuffle and if it was worth the time I lost in the penalty box. If I hadn’t made the last shot, we would have lost the game. Was the fight worth risking losing the game? Damn straight. If standing up for what’s right disappoints fans or tarnishes my reputation, so be it. We’re all Saints on this team, but we aren’t angels. Fans look up to us and emulate us, but that doesn’t mean we’re perfect or will always set the best example.
Tonight, I fought for the woman I love, and I’ll never be ashamed of that.
“What do you say we get out of here?” I grab Madison by the waist and pull her into my chest. I hold her close, soaking in the warmth of our embrace with her steady heart beating next to mine. “I’d like you to meet my mom. Beating cancer makes her the fiercest fighter I know.”
“I’d love that.” Madison’s eyes sparkle when she smiles, lighting up my world with renewed energy and joy. “Did she teach you that right jab trick?”
She snickers as she loops her arm around my waist, and we’re exactly where we’re meant to be, by each other’s side, ready to face the world without guilt or apology.