Chapter 58 Jordan
jordan
Thirty seconds. Thirty seconds to figure out how to score on this team.
Again. We’re tied at one goal each in game six.
This is do-or-die—we lose, we go home. Win, and we live to fight it out in game seven.
At home. In front of our fans. Thirty more seconds to figure out how to get to that final game instead of busting out the golf clubs after a season-ending loss.
The worst part? We’re playing fucking Montreal.
My hometown. Growing up, this was my team.
I had posters on my wall of all the players.
Jerseys, tuques, key chains, T-shirts, you name it.
All with Montreal stamped across it. And now I’m playing for the other team and trying my damnedest to be the reason my favorite team loses.
My head and my heart are in a full-on battle as if they’re in a boxing match on the ice.
The blood racing through my veins fuels my adrenaline with the surreal situation of loving and hating this team all at once.
The one benefit? My family is here. My home is here.
Having them in the stands warms my heart, sending a surge of pride through me.
They’ve been flying back and forth to Milwaukee for all the home games in this round, too, but something about us all being here, back where my hockey career started, helps push my game even harder.
I’m dying for a chance to introduce Kennedy to my family and show her around my hometown, but between my game day routine, practice, rest, games, media, and her job, there just hasn’t been a chance.
I glance up to where the rest of the WAGs are sitting.
I hate that Kennedy can’t be here during the third period during away games.
She skipped the game entirely tonight and is already on the way to prepare for the flight home.
My teeth grit. Chadd has been a complete self-absorbed jackass lately.
Kenni says he’s been somewhat behaved during their flights, still insufferable as fuck, but she’s trying to make sure he has no excuse to blame her for anything, and she didn’t want him to think the game was a distraction.
And while I’m sad she’s not here, I’m so proud of her for being such a badass bitch pilot.
Especially with all the Chadd bullshit. Lately, outside of the flights, he and his girlfriend, the Edna Mode impersonator with her short black bob and constant sunglasses, have been everywhere.
Every time I see them, they’re fucking making out, or she’s sitting on his lap, full-on groping one another in public.
I mean…okay, maybe Kenni and I are doing the same thing, but Chadd’s just…
gross. And something about him just doesn’t sit right with me.
If I didn’t know for sure he couldn’t have taken some of the photos of us, I would swear he’s the one behind all of this.
I shove a player into the boards channeling all my anger for that dick pilot into my game—at least something good comes out of knowing that asshole.
But fuck…I can’t dwell on any of that right now.
I have to focus on winning this damn game.
Montreal’s goalie stopped the puck after a killer shot by EJ, so we have a face-off right by the goal.
Momentum is in our favor, even if the crowd is against us, and Coach calls a time-out to draw up a play, letting us catch our breath and forcing Montreal to stew and stress.
“Alright, boys, this is it. Let’s get the goal here so we don’t have to go into OT, and we can head back to Milwaukee to win this fucking thing at home. Bougie, Tay…that puck does not cross the blue line. We stay in their zone, got it?”
Tay and I tap gloves. “Got it, Coach.”
The arena is electric as the puck drops and Zack takes the face-off, but he doesn’t win.
Fuck. Montreal has control, working to clear it from the zone.
I don’t fucking think so. The puck is almost to the blue line as I channel every ounce of energy into beating it there.
And thank fuck I get there right on schedule, stopping puck with my stick to keep it in the o-zone.
I pass across to Tay as our offense gets in place.
This is the play. The one we’ve practiced so many times, I can do it in my sleep.
Tay passes to Larsy, who fires it right back at him to keep the defenders on the retreat.
As Tay shuffles the puck, I know it’s coming my way.
And…fuck me…I see the shot. EJ has one of their defenders distracted, positioned exactly where Montreal’s goalie can’t see me.
The shot’s mine. I pull my stick back like a loaded weapon as the puck heads my way.
Swinging forward, I fire off a one-timer.
The puck sails through the air, high above his blocker.
Larsy sees it and heads toward the net for a rebound.
But we don’t need it.
My teammates scream and throw their arms in the air as the puck hits the back of the net right as the clock hits zero.
My grin is instantaneous as they all dogpile on me with pats to my helmet.
We fucking did it. I fucking did it. We forced a game seven back at home.
One more fucking do-or-die game to win the whole damn thing.
“JJ!” The cheering from my family echoes in the hall outside the locker room after the game. As I approach, my mom nearly takes me out despite her five-foot frame, tackling me as she gives me a giant hug.
“We’re so proud of you, JJ! All those days sitting at the rink while you practiced are finally paying off,” my mom says as we all laugh.
“You’re almost there, bud,” my dad chimes in as he pulls me in next. “We’re all coming to Milwaukee for the next game. Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Hannah grabs me the moment I’m free, squeezing the shit out of me. Damn…I love having a family full of good huggers. “It’s unreal, JJ! You deserve this, and so does your team.”
My eyes are burning, the emotions of everything that’s been going on finally sinking in. “Thanks, everyone. I’m still in shock, I’m playing in a game seven for the Cup.”
“Sooo,” Hannah says in a singsong voice, completely derailing the celebration. “Now that we’ve got all the congrats out of the way…when can I see Kennedy? I’m dying to see her again.”
“She’s at the airport. Apparently, she has to make sure the plane is working, review flight plans, checklists, safety protocols, blah, blah, blah,” I tease. “Actually…it’s pretty fucking badass.”
“Language, Jordan,” my mom scolds.
I cringe. “Sorry, Mom.”
“Oh my God.” Hannah quickly comes to my defense. “Aunt Maria, that’s mild compared to half the stuff these players say.”
“I don’t care that everyone else is cursing,” Mom snaps back. “If they all jumped off a bridge, would you follow after them?”
We all laugh and roll our eyes as I kiss Mom’s cheek. My mom will never see me as anything but the five-year-old in skates begging for a snack at the concession stand after practice. And I kinda love it.
“Bougie!” EJ comes up behind me, putting his arm around my shoulder with a ridiculous smirk on his face, his cheeks flushed. “Are you going to introduce me to your family?”
I let out a loud sigh. “This is Erik Johanson, but the team calls him EJ. These are my parents, Joseph and Maria, and you’ve met my cousin Hannah before.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Boucher,” he says, stepping forward to shake their hands.
Then he turns to Hannah and does the same, holding her hand for a few seconds longer than I’d like.
“Hannah, a pleasure seeing you as always.” His voice practically oozes flirtation.
I grit my teeth. I hate it. “Are you coming to Milwaukee for the next game?”
“I’ll be there,” she says with a smirk.
“Nope! EJ, time for you to go.” I shove him down the hall, breaking up their little love-fest. “Did I mention Hannah will be joining a convent next week? She’s off limits. Got it?”
“I was just saying hello, not asking her to the prom. Calm down, Bougie!” he shouts over his shoulder, walking away, then has the fucking audacity to blow her a kiss. “Bye, Hannah. See you in Milwaukee!”
My parents share a look with one another, giggling to themselves.
I suck my teeth, seeming to be the only one irritated at the thought of EJ hooking up with my cousin, who is my best friend and might as well be my sister.
Just as I’m about to tell Hannah to stay the hell away from him, Tay walks up to see the commotion.
We just won the game, but he looks like he’s seen a ghost. That’s fucking weird.
I shake my head, trying to focus on the fact that my family is here. “Tay, have you met my parents before?”
He forces a stiff nod. “Very nice to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Boucher. Hannah…” He pauses, offering her a soft smile as she flashes him one back.
“Good to see you again, too. I gotta go get my knee iced before the trip home. See you all in Milwaukee.” He darts toward the training room, glancing over his shoulder one last time.
That was fucking weird too. What the hell is going on with my teammates tonight? I’ll deal with these jokers after we win the Cup.
“Nice to see you again, Colton!” my mom yells back.
“I'd better get going too,” I say, “See you all in a few days.”
We all say our love yous and goodbyes, and I head toward the bus, my steps heavy.
The weight of not being able to spend much time with my family always hangs on me.
I love them all so much. My mind wanders to the blonde bombshell waiting for me at the airport.
Maybe after the season, we can spend a week with them.
I haven’t seen Kennedy since early this morning, and I’m eager as hell to celebrate with her.
Finally stepping onto the plane, beyond exhausted from a grueling game, I peek down the aisle to see Kenni in the flight deck. I take a step toward her, only wanting a quick kiss since I see her looking over checklists, as a hand grips my arm.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” Theresa says, shaking her head. “Captain Ainsworth is in a shitty mood, for some reason, and I have a feeling you going in there will make it worse for Kenni.”
My hand balls into a fist at my side, the excitement of seeing her quickly turning into rage. “If he’s mean to her, even the slightest bit, you’ll come get me?”
She nods, squeezing my bicep. “You know I will. Have I not passed along your coffee to her all season long? I’ve always been Team Jordan,” she says with a wink.
“I’m working the front tonight, so I’ll keep an eye on her.
You know he won’t touch her with half this plane ready to beat the living hell out of him if he does, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be a complete asshole when he thinks no one is looking. ”
I roll my eyes as my teammates continue to file in behind me. “Isn’t that his attitude most of the time?”
“No comment,” she snorts, gesturing into the plane. “Take your seat, please, Mr. Boucher, so we can get you all home.”
I head down the aisle to take my normal seat next to Vladi.
He already has his earbuds in, which means he wants to focus.
I sigh, already missing our deep conversations.
I’ll save my existential question about life for later and leave him be.
I put on some music, take some deep breaths, and close my eyes.
Do I have nerves about the next game? Yes.
But more than that, the fear sitting in the back of my mind at all times creeps to the front—this damn stalker and what he wants.
I’m constantly worried about Kenni. We’re together a lot, but I worry about her when she’s alone.
Is someone following her to the airport?
Is someone hanging out in the building across the street from her apartment and watching, waiting to see when I leave?
Did they somehow take that photo of us on the tenth fucking floor with a drone or something?
Fuck. I pinch the bridge of my nose. I don’t need this added stress during the playoffs.
Sinking into my seat, I chew on the inside of my cheek.
I just want to spend time with her. I want to get to know every detail about every minute of her life before we met.
I want to hear about her time in the Air National Guard.
I want to hear about what she was like in high school.
I want to hear about the old boyfriends I need to beat up because they didn’t treat her right.
Then thank them for fumbling Kenni so hard she found me.
She’s the air in my lungs and, if that was ever taken away from me, I wouldn’t survive.
I send a quick text to Ray. I’m hoping he’s got some sort of update on stalker-gate at this point because I need something, anything, that will calm my nerves.
Jordan
Hey Ray…Any leads?
Ray
Nothing new. We talked to the guy that runs the coffee shop across the street from the apartment, but he hasn’t seen anything unusual.
And he’s run the place for ten years, so I don’t think he suddenly got a fixation on either of you.
Looking into some new leads, but nothing concrete. I’ll keep you posted.
Fuck. I run my hand down my face. I want this fucking guy caught.
Jordan:
Thanks for the update. , , ,
I was hoping this would take away the worry over all this, but all it did was make me more worried that we have zero information. Who the fuck is doing this?