Chapter 32 Lucas
lucas
I have so many feelings about getting on this plane today, so many possibilities that are taking away from what I need to be doing right now, which is focusing on the games ahead of us. So many things could go wrong, yet so many things could go right.
Half my team is restless. We put a plan into place last night. Elliott, one of Abby’s brothers, is spearheading everything. Him not being involved in law enforcement gives him a bit of an advantage. Less red tape to cut through, while also being able to dig without raising any red flags.
He’s a vigilante hacker, for lack of better terms. One who’s going to get this information to the people who are chomping at the bit for a story.
The ones who want credit for taking down someone as big as Sebastian Arias.
The ones who want to be seen as a hero of the story, even if they really might be a villain.
Elliott is a silent but deadly force, one I’m happy to have on our team.
On the flip side, Dex and Collin are going to wait until after our first away game to make a call to the FBI branch in El Paso.
Luckily for us, an investigation into Arias Corp is already open.
Meaning he’s already on the FBI radar, we just don’t know in what capacity…
yet. Some research has to be done first to see if they can’t find out whose pockets are a bit cushioned, another task for Elliott.
That way, they come armed with some additional motivation.
It also gives us enough time to effectively remove ourselves from the suspect list. If we’re all playing in a different state, our alibi is air-tight. Not that we’re actually doing anything wrong, but should something happen, it’s pretty clear we weren’t involved. At least not directly.
“We’ve got this man, it’s going to work out,” Sammy says as he sits across from me at the card table.
We agreed that Lettie would stay at Abby and Tate’s house, and he and his old roommate Zeke will be there for added protection.
But the dread building in my gut makes me want to say screw it and run back to the ranch so I can see she’s safe for myself.
I nod, desperate for something to distract me from the endless what-if scenarios. “Oh! Sing-along with Lucas. We need a superhero group theme song. Like the ninja turtles or something.” Sammy claps his hands together as Wilder and Reed look ready to throw him off the plane.
“A theme song?” Our captain asks with the raise of his eyebrow. “What are we, five?”
Samuels flops back into the seat, “Think about it, we could be the next Marvel Squad. Hockey stick slinging vigilantes."
My hand flies to my mouth as I try to smother a laugh. Wilder doesn’t hold back, though, nor do Andrews or Wilson. “We’re like the hockey sextuplets,” Sammy says as he folds his arms behind his head.
Andrews coughs into his balled fist, “Did you just say sextuplets?”
“Yeah, that’s what it’s called when you’re pregnant with six babies at the same time,” he deadpans.
The back of the plane breaks out in laughter. “Ahh, is that what we are? Band of brothers, born of the same womb?” Wilson snickers.
Sammy’s hands fly through the air before he leans his forearms against the table. “You assholes are missing the point. This is prime real estate for a theme song.” He looks at me, “Come on, you know you want to make one up.”
Folding my arms over my chest, I try to come up with something, but my mind is too heavy to be creative right now.
“Oh! We could be the ice guardians!” He cuts in. “Come on! Help me out here.”
“You’re off your freaking rocker.” Reed chuckles from his seat.
Defeated, Sammy juts his lip out. “Boooo! You spoilsports.”
My phone lights up seconds before they close the door.
Scarlett: Settled in Abby’s guest room. I’m good, please focus on the game. I love you, Goldie. See you when you get home.
Lucas: I love you, miss you already.
Scarlett: Back at ya.
My nerves settle a bit, enough for us to pull out the cards. All of us in need of a distraction, Wilder and I for the women we’ve left at home, the other three, well, you can tell their minds are racing. Quiet in a way that isn’t normal for us.
It’s comforting to think that maybe they’re just as worried about the ranch and our friends at home. But at the same time, it isn’t their burden to carry. But they chose to carry it with us, to spread the weight so it's not overwhelming for any single person.
The flight to Tennessee is just under two hours, and we’ve played more rounds of spoons than I can count. A game that's as mindless as it is intense. I’m convinced we don’t even pay attention to the cards we have. We just wait for someone to pull a spoon before we all jump in like animals.
“Clean up your mess, boys, leave nothing behind.” Coach Stevens hollers from the front, his typical speech before we deplane.
Elliott: One of his meetings today just so happened to be with someone he’s trying to silence. Monitoring all communication. Will keep you updated.
Lucas: Got it. Thanks for the update.
“It’s begun, my friends.” Turning my phone to them as we climb onto the bus. Sammy rubs his hands together, clearly still feeling like a superhero, while Reed forcefully exhales, and Wilder gives me a tight nod.
It’s going to be impossible to sleep tonight, but we still have a job to do.
One that requires focus, so for now, we’ve got to trust in Tate, Zeke, and Dex to do what we can’t while we do what we can to get back home in one piece.
The last time one of us lost focus during a game, Wilder took a nasty hit from behind and was out for months while he rehabbed his rotator cuff.
Once we make it to the hotel, I figure everyone will go their separate ways, but they somehow all end up in our room. “Wilder, buddy, can you stop pacing?” I ask as I watch him take his what must be twentieth lap around the room at this point.
His shoulders raise to his ears, then drop as he exhales, “I’m sorry. I know they’re okay, but I don’t like knowing we’re poking the bear and we’re not home to protect them.”
Reed leans back into the couch on the other side of the room, “You know good and well that even if Dex and Collin weren’t involved, your brother would never let anything happen to them.”
Tate may be a grumpy asshole to most, but he’s the gooeyest cinnamon roll for Abby.
He’s also hella protective, like, step-in-front-of-a-bullet protective.
My concern is that Scarlett’s way worse on that front.
At the first hint of them being in danger, she’ll flee.
Drawing her dad, or whoever is there with ill intent, away from the safety of our friends.
Hannah: Can you calm my husband down? I can feel him stressing from here.
Laughter fills the room as Hannah’s text simultaneously makes everyone’s phone ping.
Lucas: Oh my God, Hannah, come get him. He’s driving us insane.
Sammy: Seriously, if he doesn’t stop, he’s going to turn into an actual ping pong ball.
Wilder: I’d like to see you assholes when the woman you love is in danger.
Reed: Monroe’s woman is in more danger than yours is, and he has cucumbers on his eyelids.
Reed:
Hannah: Dozer, take a page from your roommate.
Wilder: I’m trying here, Kitten. But, damn. You really should have come with me.
Hannah: No, I’m right where I’m supposed to be. I love you, but other than throwing a punch, which would be entirely unhelpful unless it was close combat, you can’t do anything.
Wilson: Shots Fired.
Andrews: BURN!
Wilder: I hate all of you.
A knock on our door has all six of our heads snapping toward it. “Did you order anything?” Wilder asks as I pull a cucumber off my eye. My head shakes against the soft fabric of the pillow I propped myself up on.
The knock comes again. Sammy, being the tallest, and Wilson, being the broadest, walk to the door. The second it opens, they’re laughing. When they pull the door open further, Abby, Hannah, Scarlett, and Tate walk in. “Lettie Girl!” I yell as I throw my arms open.
“Hi,” she whispers as she tucks herself into me.
Wilder all but tackles Hannah, “Oh, thank God.”
“As glad as we all are to see you guys, what happened to the plan?” Wilson asks as he slides onto the end of the couch, crossing his ankle over his knee.
Abby explains what Elliott said about the ranch being a direct threat and that her dad would likely go after the ranch in an attempt to get everything to stop. But there was nothing they could do at home to stop it, so they decided to come to our game.
“Listen, don’t get your hopes up. Tate’s staying in here with you two.” Abby snickers as Tate grunts. “We’re having a girls' trip.”
I flop back against the bed, pulling Lettie with me.
“Oh, come on!” My bottom lip pushes out as I give them my best puppy dog eyes.
I hate that thought, that she’s here, so close yet out of reach.
I want her next to me all night. I want to wake up with her leg thrown over my hip, the smell of her vanilla shampoo all up in my nose.
“Nope,” Lettie pats my chest, “This is girls' weekend, we just so happen to be going to a hockey game. My first hockey game.”
I gasp, how could I have forgotten she’s never gone to a hockey game before?
“May I offer you an authentic Markus Samuels jersey?” My teammate chides as his tongue pushes against his lip, turning the small silver ring. His eyebrows dance across his forehead as Lettie attempts to smother her own laugh.
“I think the hell not!” The pitch of my voice is so high I almost think my balls have removed themselves. “My girl. My jersey.” My arms tighten around her waist.
She giggles, “Actually, I have my own to wear.”
My brows furrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Her finger taps against the tip of my nose, “You’ll find out tomorrow.” She presses a chaste kiss to my lips before climbing out of my lap despite my protests. “Get some sleep. See you boys, tomorrow.”
Despite both Wilder brothers and my own grumbles, they walk out the door without so much as telling us their room number. They’re smart, those three. Had they told us, one of us, if not all of us, would have been in there by the end of the night.
The smell of her shampoo lingers on my pillow. Burying my face in it, I take a deep inhale. “The rest of you, get out. I need to sleep so I can hold my girl again.”
The thunk of the door latch is the last thing I hear before I drift off, dreaming of my girl in the stands. This is the first game of my entire hockey career that I’ll have someone in the stands for me.
I’m jumping on my skates in the locker room, my blood buzzing as I sink into game mode.
There’s no longer any fear of something happening to Lettie while we're gone, because she’s here.
We had breakfast together this morning, complete with Sammy’s normal bitching about his Avocado toast being too thin.
Why he continues to order it when it’s almost impossible to meet his standards, I’ll never know.
“Ready?” Reed’s gloved hand bounces off my shoulder pads. I give him a nod, the fluorescent lights flickering as he turns to give his pregame speech. And before I know it, we’re walking out to the ice, sticks in hand, and determination in our hearts.
We’re on a four-game winning streak, and it’d be great to make it five, but it’d be even better to do it with Lettie here. The second my skates hit the ice, the world falls away. My body zeroing in on the task at hand.
I’ve made two laps when a tap on the glass pulls my attention, Hannah’s bright smiling face, Abby’s slightly less smiley face, and Tate, who looks like he would rather be anywhere but here.
“Where’s Lettie?” I mouth. Movement in the corner catches my eye, Lettie’s curly hair bouncing with every step.
Not only is she wearing a Hawks jersey, but she has a giant picture of my face on a stick.
She wiggles it before pressing it to the glass so I can see.
“You look good in my jersey,” I yell. Her responding smile is straight sin.
She spins, giving me a view of her back.
My number, 26, sits on both arms, and in the middle of the jersey, but when she pulls her hair over her shoulder, “Goldie’s Girl” is written across her shoulder blades instead of my last name.
My head drops back behind me as I let out a groan, “You’re trouble, Lettie Girl.
” Throwing her a wink, I skate around the goal a few more times before we’re called to the bench for the national anthem.
With renewed strength and a little added motivation, I’m determined to make this the best game I’ve played in a long time.