Page 45 of Pucking Them
“Wait, what?”
“Don’t you think that I rang everyone I knew the moment I found out? That I cornered their asshole coach? I know the guy. I didn’t think that he’d pull this. But the wider investigation against Wilder collapsed. Other players were too frightened to testify or withdrew their statements. They thought that it would hurt their careers. Wilder’s golden public reputation istarnished, but behind the scenes in private, he still holds power. The dicks only hit him with a ten thousand dollar fine.”
“That’s pocket change to Wilder.” Stunned, I shook.
Dad shrugged.
“The system sucks. Nobody knows that better than I do. Do you want to know the real reason I think the investigation failed?” He leans closer. “The Penguins have a shot at winning the season. Their board didn’t want to throw that away by screwing over their captain. He wins their games for them.”
“We won’t let him. But you knew about this before I walked out here to the rink.” I ducked my head. “Why didn’t you at least send me a message in the chat and warn me?”
Dad huffed. “I didn’t raise my kids to be snowflakes. You’re over him now, aren’t you? You have a new relationship. I’ve alerted security. The asshole won’t get near you.”
“He already has.”
Dad turned away. “I don’t have time for this.”
“This,” Eden’s quiet words sounded unbearably loud, and Dad flinched, “is the hurt of your only daughter.”
Dad swung back to Eden, poking him in the chest. “Don’t become involved in my family business.”
“I am family.” Eden’s eyes darkened.
Dad turned away dismissively. “For now.”
It’s almost three quarters through the game, and it’s a nightmare.
The game itself is brutal. This is war on ice.
Yet the score is2 — 0.
Shay and D’Angelo have barely managed a shot on goal. Zach, on the other hand, has been wildly defending goals.
If not for Zach’s incredible effort, the Penguins could have scored at least another five times.
The fans are trying to help as much as they can, cheering every time that the Bay Rebels gain the puck.
But D’Angelo and Shay are bothoff.
They are frustrated, angry, and unfocused.
Worse, they are being targeted by Wilder and his teammates. Every time either of them is brutally checked against the boards, part of me dies.
My heart is beating fast. I’m lightheaded.
Would it make for a terrible headline — and photograph in the papers — if I bent over and hurled?
Suddenly, Eden’s arms are curled around my back, pulling me away from the glass like he heard my thought. He cradles my face against his chest to hide me from the cameras.
“If you need to puke, you can do it on me,” he offers.
I weakly chuckle. “That’s a large sacrifice, when I know how much you love this suit.”
“I love you more,” Eden says with earnest seriousness.
I imagine that he has a list somewhere, probably written down in that moleskin notebook of his that he also loves, of his ranked favorite things.
Now, I know that I am his number one, tied with Shay. I imagine D’Angelo is tied with cats and tea.
