Chapter 10
Sloane
“With sixty seconds on the buzzer, there is a good chance the Portland Hellions will win this game, Mike.” The announcer whistled as he relayed the information to the listeners at home.
While I had a bird’s-eye view of the ice, I also had an earbud in so I could catch anything I might have missed.
“Yeah, Jack, but that means the Devil needs to deflect the puck and to date in this season, when Jory ‘the Gory’ Holden is playing center, he has not missed a single shot. Not one. It’s a tall order for Beck Kendrick.”
Mike chuckled. “Everyone is rooting for the Hellions, especially with the near tragedy both Kendrick brothers faced. Let’s see what he can do. With a loss tonight, it would all but crush the dreams of the Hellions.”
Oh, God. No pressure indeed.
Everything was riding on this last play.
While the Hellions’ defense was doing their best to keep the puck from getting anywhere close to the net, I’d watched a couple of videos highlighting Jory Holden’s method of playing.
He reminded me a little of Savage Masters in how he switched up his plays when faced with a possible loss.
However, if I knew anything about Beck, he’d already anticipated what Jory would do.
I found myself rocking on the seat, my teeth chattering and my condition had nothing to do with the frigid temperatures in the arena. They had to win. They just had to win.
While there’d been no additional official information about his father’s condition, if there’d been a death, I was positive the two brothers wouldn’t be at this game.
I was in a wall-to-wall fan zone. While smaller than for Miami, at least one third of the people were rooting for the Hellions if not more.
For the first time in being at a game, I was having a little issue feeling claustrophobic.
The reason was easy to decipher. The email I’d received.
I’d been continually looking over my shoulder everywhere I went, certain I’d see the jerk from the hotel following me.
So far, I hadn’t, but I had been feeling a strange set of prickly sensations.
That was one reason I wasn’t sleeping very well.
Even in the crowded arena, I could almost swear someone was watching me. While I knew I should tell Beck about the email, I was trying to figure out what good that would do. Not knowing him very well, I also worried his game would be affected.
God knew I didn’t need to be the one labeled the reason the team had lost a chance to make the playoffs.
All things being equal, I should have shared the threat, which was what I took the email as being, with my boss. Right… I could only imagine Matt’s reaction. He’d call me compromised and incapable of doing my job.
With the pressure he was putting on me to provide some shadowy article on the shifter side of things, I was needed to be extra careful in how I handled Matt.
His last words before I’d left the office in a rush:
“Remember your assignment.”
Then he’d lifted his gaze, staring into my eyes. The way he’d looked at me had been entirely different.
I’d written the article on the plane and in truth, I’d decided to finish it with Beck’s help.
If he didn’t shut me down, which I wouldn’t blame him for.
At this point, I’d all but decided to keep the ugly detail to myself unless I received another.
What had the asshole thought he was going to achieve anyway?
Blackmail? It wasn’t as if either one of us were married and cheating or God forbid underage.
Sure, the question of ethics would come into play for the rest of this season but would fade when another oh-my-God scandal hit social media.
Maybe that’s what the jerk had intended. To drive me batshit crazy.
Fuck you!
I laughed and turned my full attention back to the game.
The moment Jory caught the puck from another player, everyone knew instinctively this was the play. It had to be. The clock was ticking.
As soon as he moved toward where Beck was waiting, everyone was on their feet. All cheering. All jumping up and down.
I’d never seen such a frenzy before. There were at least a thousand tailgaters outside, almost every sign positive. The momentum for the Hellions and for the brothers was growing.
Maybe my article had been a small part of the reason why.
I was breathless, sick to my stomach while watching them play. I tried to keep my eye on the puck because of the importance, but the draw to Beck had been heavy and hot all night long.
Whether or not he knew I was here, I couldn’t tell. The plane had arrived late, which had put me at the arena after the start of the game. What I found fascinating was the buzz of energy I’d felt the moment I’d walked in, the same electricity that I’d experienced when spending any time with Beck.
Heat swept across my face in a moment of wildfire and the crowd was crushing forward.
I managed to get a spot near the front, trying to video his performance.
Whether or not I was getting anything I couldn’t tell and honestly, I didn’t care because I was too busy screaming out his name like everyone else.
Up until now, the game had been exciting, but this was something completely different. I was floating on air even as the clock ticked down in slow motion.
Then everyone was holding their breath when the puck was released.
Beck didn’t react. Not a single muscle in his body moved, nothing tensed. I could just tell, although I’d later defend my certainty by claiming I’d been praying hard for the win. I couldn’t breathe, hadn’t blinked once, and in the last seconds I could see the timer’s yellow lights.
Five. Four. Three. Two.
With a huge roar, I cleared cobwebs before I realized Beck had done it. He’d managed to win the game for the Hellions.
“Hell, yeah!” My scream was louder than some of the guys dressed like Vikings. Since when did Hellions translate into Vikings? I didn’t know, but I took a few pictures anyway.
There was utter pandemonium in the arena, confetti flying and horns blowing. Now we were in a Viking Mardi Gras. When they started chanting ‘the Devil,’ I had a sense of pride wash over me.
How silly. How… ridiculous.
“Yes. Yes. Yes!” I plastered my hand on the plexiglass, trying to capture a few pictures of the joy the team shared while jumping all over each other. When they finally started to do the victory lap, I waited just long enough to see if Beck would skate closer.
My heart was thumping so hard the sound was echoing in my ears.
He waved, even flirting with the crowd while rounding the corner heading in my direction.
When he was only a few yards away, his smooth and easy skating slowed. He lifted his head and I knew the second we locked eyes by the way heat rushed from my muscles straight into my core.
He turned in a full circle, making exaggerated moves including placing both gloved hands over his heart. I shook my head in response, even pointing my finger at him.
What I should have done was slink back into the shadows, but that wasn’t like me. I wasn’t the kind of woman to hide from anything or anyone.
The flight had been last minute since no one had known the Kendrick brothers would be at the game. Matthew wouldn’t have taken no for an answer, but in truth, I’d wanted to come. Just to talk to Beck.
And to warn him.
Whether or not I’d been the sole recipient of the email was still on my mind. There hadn’t been another email, no weird phone calls or anything out of the ordinary. But the damage had been done. I’d continually felt as if everything I was doing was being watched.
But the nagging remained in the back of my mind. I had tried to discover the identity of the guy in the hallway, even sweet-talking the person at the hotel.
Nothing had worked.
As soon as he passed, I moved through the crowd, heading to the back.
Some of the fans were already trying to disperse, which made getting to the back difficult.
I had to push my way through several groups, reaching for my press credentials so there wouldn’t be any holdup.
By the time I made it, at least ten minutes had passed.
I was already at a disadvantage not knowing when the media would be allowed access.
When I approached the coach, he pointed to the media scrum area where a few players had been chosen to face the throngs of people. Getting this close to the playoffs, the night’s win had been a big deal.
Since Beck had been a huge reason for the team’s win, I suspected he was one of the chosen ones. I was right. He was sitting with his brother at a table, looking about as uncomfortable as I’d ever seen him.
I found a place on the side, curious as to how the session would go.
The usual questions were asked first, the reporters all very excited to be with the members.
“How does it feel to be this close to clinching a playoff spot?” one reporter asked.
Beck referred the question to Ford.
“Are you kidding me?” Ford stated. “A dream come true.”
“How did you know the Gory would alter his play?”
Beck grinned. “Because that’s what Ford would have done and from what I can tell, the Gory is fascinated by my brother.”
The press corps adored his answer. There was always a little ribbing, all in fun.
“What’s it like being brothers on the same team?” The female reporter wasn’t exactly swooning, but she had moved as close as the reporters were allowed.
I had to admit I understood why women were so enamored with them. Together they weren’t only a force to be reckoned with on the ice, they were both GQ material.
“I’ll answer that one,” Beck said with a little growl.
“Be careful,” Ford cautioned in jest.
Once again, the group was happy and taking notes, the flashes going off from all corners of the room.
“Serious,” Beck continued. “I wouldn’t want to be here without him.”
“I feel the same.” Ford winked.
The collective sigh brought a laugh. They were also both hams.
“Just a couple more questions, folks. We need to let them rest.” The coach was certainly protective.
“What does it feel like being shifters?”