Chapter 68 Jordan
jordan
The police arrive quickly and work with the Riders personnel to figure out where we are.
Apparently, there is a storage room no one uses anymore.
No shit. It had some water damage, which forced them to move almost everything to another part of the arena, letting this one just stay empty.
Angelica, somehow, stumbled upon it and thought this would be a fitting place to hold Kennedy hostage.
We watch as our kidnappers are hauled away on gurneys in handcuffs.
I should be thankful neither of their injuries were life threatening, but I can’t say I’m not a tad disappointed they will still exist on this earth.
Hopefully, they will be spending the rest of their lives behind bars.
The EMTs and the Riders’ medical personnel check us out as well.
Outside of the cut on my face, which is not out of the ordinary for me, especially during a game, I’m good to go.
Kennedy checked out fine as well. Thank you, hockey gods.
All her vitals are great, but they want her to get some bloodwork done and see a high-risk pregnancy doctor as soon as possible.
I lean back against the wall outside the medical room, the cool brick settling me. Our family is okay.
The calm evaporates quickly as I realize I have to turn my attention to the other part of my life.
The fucking Cup final. Game fucking seven to be exact.
It’s ninety minutes till game time, and fans are already filing in.
I haven’t done my pre-game routines, meal prep, or had a nap.
I run my shaky hand through my hair, tapping my foot at warp speed. I don’t play well without my routine.
“Hey.” Kennedy grabs my hand. “What’s wrong?”
My shoulders slump. “I didn’t get to do any of my pre-game stuff with all the…
ya know…kidnapping and attempted murder.
I don’t typically play well unless I finish my routine.
Vladi’s superstition is easy—sit next to me on the plane.
Although I heard a rumor he has some good luck charm he keeps with him too, but no one knows what it is.
But for me? It’s my whole fucking game day routine. ”
She squeezes my fingers. “Oh shit…Jordan, this is all my fault. This is like the biggest game of your life, and today has ruined it.”
“No, Kenni, absolutely not. This is all Chadd McKidnapper and She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s fault.
I’ll push through. We can’t change what happened, and I’m beyond thankful to have you back and safe and here.
I just have to rely on my skills and pray they’re enough for tonight.
I’ll just channel the adrenaline from almost dying into the game.
I just have to get out there and go for it. ”
Kennedy freezes, a spark in her eyes. “I have an idea. Wait here!” she yells over her shoulder as she races to the vending machine down the hall. She frantically taps her phone on the card reader, racing back to me with two items in her hands.
I narrow my brows. What the hell? “Cheese-it’s and jellybeans?”
She nods with a reluctant smile. “I know it’s not the traditional Genovian cheese and pear dessert, but it is cheese crackers, and these jellybeans are pear flavored, so…close enough? And…” —she swallows hard, nervousness creeping across her face— “I have another idea.”
She steps back, looking around the tunnels as if she’s double-checking no one is around. Something tugs behind my rib cage—I can feel it in my gut this is another rom-com dream come true. “Grilled Cheesus, I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but…here goes,” she mumbles under her breath.
I try not to react, to stay calm so she doesn’t lose her nerve—but it’s no use.
A smile creeps across my face as wide as the entire rink as I watch the love of my life singing about putting her mind to it, going for it, and breaking a sweat along with every hand motion of the Go For It song from Saved by the Bell.
She doesn’t quite have the pizzazz I do, but damn, it’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
I race to join in, doing all the moves with her and goddammit this is the best moment of my life.
The moment she’s done, I pick her up, swinging her around in the hallway, and kiss her harder than I’ve ever kissed her before.
This is it. The woman of my dreams. Well, she was the woman of my dreams. Now she’s the woman of my present and my future.
No more dreaming needed. She’s here, in my arms, and I’m going to go fucking win the goddamn Cup for her.
As if I wasn’t exhausted enough from the day’s activities, the game goes into overtime.
Montreal decided that me being fucking kidnapped was not a reason to go easy on me or my team.
This game has been brutal. We each scored one goal in the first period and not another since.
Three minutes left on the clock for the first OT and fuck, we need to score.
I’m resting on the bench between shifts, willing my muscles to keep working, convincing my lungs they have a little more space left to keep breathing.
“You alright, Bougie?” Tay asks, sliding down the bench next to me. “I know it’s been a day and if you need someone else to swap out, we all understand.”
I take a sip from my water bottle as I debate his question. My body is tough, but even I’ll admit this game has been rough on me after not having my full pre-game routine. Maybe I should—Out of the corner of my eye, I see something sparkle from one of the suites above.
Kennedy.
The WAGs all have jackets for the playoffs, but she went and got hers bedazzled for me.
She hates bling like that, but she said it was an homage to my sparkly personality and ‘the damn leopard’ in her apartment.
She still refuses to call him Neil. But seeing her up there cheering for me is the only motivation I need to keep going.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just got my second wind.
Let’s fucking do this.” We pound our gloves together as we wait for our teammates to skate to the bench for a line change.
Go time. Hopping over the boards, I race toward the back of our goal where Vladi has the puck waiting.
I pass to Zack, following him up the ice into the offensive zone.
He sends it over to Larsy, who gets a good shot off but it’s blocked before a full-on scuffle for the rebound breaks out.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tay creeping up to the other side of the goal where no one is looking.
Fucking genius. I can tell Larsy sees it too, gaining control of the puck and shuffling it over to Tay, who pulls back his stick and aims for the goal.
Montreal’s goalie tries to shift across to stop it.
But he doesn’t.
The puck hits the back of the net, and the entire arena explodes.
We clobber Tay as the entire team flies off the bench.
Gloves, helmets, sticks, everything goes flying as we scream.
We fucking did it! We fucking won the whole enchilada.
We hug, scream, and slam each other against the boards in excitement, the weight of the moment truly sinking in.
“Fuck yeah! Colton Taylor with the game-winning goal!” I shout, pulling him in for a hug.
“TAY!!!!” EJ screeches as he comes running over to him.
“You fucking won us the Cup! My best friend won us the Cup!” he whoops as he cups Tay’s face and kisses him right on the lips with a huge mwah, then disappears to continue celebrating with the rest of the team.
Tay stands stunned, his hand shaking against his lips. Yikes bikes.
“Boucher!” Coach Cal walks over in his suit and dress shoes on the ice.
“I told you no more pre-game antics, and you just couldn’t resist getting yourself kidnapped on the day of the fucking Stanley Cup final game?
” I narrow my brows. Is he really upset about this?
“I’m fucking kidding. Pull all the antics you want after this damn game… you’re a Stanley Cup champion!”
“Jordan!” Vladi wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for the world’s biggest hug. From the world’s biggest hug hater? Nobody pinch me. “Now we celebrate. We celebrate as teammates and friends, yes?”
“Fuck yeah, Vladster. Fuck yeah.”