“Gents… this here is my girlfriend, Willow Monahan. I expect you all to be polite and treat her with respect, because if you don’t, I’ll kick your ass. And after I’m done with you, her brother—Dax Monahan—who plays for the Vengeance, will take up where I left off.”
The boys are all good-natured, of course, because they’ve just been flown to see a playoff game in a luxury box filled with all kinds of free swag and good food. They beam at Willow and offer greetings.
She smiles back before addressing me, her brow knitting in confusion. “What is all this?”
“These are some of the kids from Miller House which is a group home in Los Angeles that I do work with,” I say.
It only takes a second before her expression and her eyes soften. She glances over her shoulder at them and then back to me, her voice going all gooey. “You brought them all here for the game?”
Shaking my head, I reply, “Not all. Some are on restriction, but most of them. I normally take them to basketball games in Los Angeles a few times a year, but I thought this would be fun.”
Willow snorts. “Fun? Are you kidding me? This is probably like the best thing ever to them.”
My gaze moves past her to the grinning and laughing boys—their joy actually filling the air around us.
“You’re amazing,” Willow murmurs. She says it with such reverence—in a tone I’ve never heard from her before—that a tremor moves up my spine. When my gaze snaps to her face, she’s bestowing a look upon me that makes my knees want to buckle from the enormity of what she’s expressing.
I’ve suspected it.
She’s hinted at it.
She’s trying.
Goddamn, I know she’s really trying.
But right now, she’s regarding me in such a way that says she genuinely cares about me. That she sees past the trappings and the wealth, and she’s pushing aside the fears she has based on her past experiences. She’s looking at me like I’m a good man—one she could entrust herself to.
Possibly.
I could be reading too much into it.
Regardless, I don’t make a big deal about it since it would freak Willow out if I did. Instead, I casually loop my arm around her shoulder. “Let’s grab some food and drinks, then get our seats. We’ve got a rowdy crowd up here with us tonight, so it should be lots of fun.”
“Can’t wait,” she exclaims gleefully.
♦
The game is intense with less than three minutes left in regular play. The Vengeance is up 2-1 over the Demons, and desperation permeates the air. The Vengeance is hell-bent on keeping this lead until the final buzzer sounds, and the Demons are clawing and kicking every step of the way to stay in it. The kids are all out of their seats, going nuts.
Every fan in the arena is on their feet, bellowing frenzied shouts of encouragement to hold on, which creates a unified roar that has the floor vibrating.
Willow and I have our hands clenched together. She’s hopping up and down, screaming so hard most of her voice is gone, and my eyes are pinned intently on the ice as I watch my team putting forth every ounce of effort into winning.
The Demons will be pulling their goalie if they don’t score soon, choosing to go one attacker up on us. For a dizzying moment, they get control of the puck in our end and manage a point-blank shot on goal, which Legend manages to deflect. Demons regain control, making a few smooth passes between their players to try to create an opening, but then Wylde manages to poke it away.
Tacker is there, managing to get his stick on it near the boards. All he needs to do is flip it out of our zone, but the worst thing imaginable happens. Lars Nilsson slams into him from behind, crushing Tacker’s entire body into the glass so forcefully I can hear the impact above the roar of the crowd.
Ordinarily, this isn’t anything to be concerned about. Tacker’s a big guy. He’s tough as nails.
But he and Lars Nilsson have a terrible history together. Last November, when Tacker was in a really dark place, he and Nilsson got into it on the ice. Then Nilsson made a horrible comment about Tacker’s fiancée dying, which resulted in Tacker going ballistic. He dragged Nilsson down onto the ice, then kneed him in the head so viciously he lost consciousness.
Tacker got suspended for ten games, which had started a major spiral out of control for him.
Luckily, he’s come back from that dark place and moved on. He’s been playing the best he’s ever played, and he leads our team in points in the playoffs. That shove into the glass by Nilsson doesn’t mean anything to a guy like Tacker these days, but if the rival player says something about his dead fiancée, there’s no telling what the guy will do.
Willow and I freeze, staring helplessly at the ice.
And then… all hell breaks loose.
Gloves go flying, landing haphazardly on the ice. It’s a universal sign between two players that they want to fight. But it’s not just two players. It’s every fucking guy out on the ice and they start squaring up, fists raised and ready to brawl. Tacker faces Nilsson, and I can see it in his eyes… he has control of himself. Doesn’t mean he’s not going to lose it, but he’s not going to back down either.
Fights are not as common in playoff hockey as they are in the regular season. Sure, they happen, but for the most part, at this level, players try to avoid penalties and injuries. Most guys know the importance of keeping their cool when the championship is in sight.
But this is Tacker we’re talking about.
This is the Arizona Vengeance, a team that has stood by Tacker’s side as he’s battled back from the depths of despair and helped to solidify our race as a prime contender for the cup.
Not one of my guys is going to take Nilsson’s assault on our star center lightly.
The crowd goes nuts because everyone loves a fight. The refs stand back uneasily, circling the men who are now throwing jabs and crosses. Bishop gets tangled up with a Demon player, and they go falling to the ice. A ref rushes in to break them apart, but the other men are going at it furiously with their Demon counterparts.
And then the thing that rarely ever happens… happens.
Legend drops his stick to the ice, both gloves following, then he streaks toward the other goalie. For a moment, the Demon net defender doesn’t move. But then he realizes he’s being challenged, and he has no choice but to meet it. He takes off, the two goalies meeting at center ice. Legend grabs the Demon by the jersey, who reciprocates, and they start grappling. I hold my breath, praying Legend doesn’t take a shot because his hand will probably end up broken against the other goalie’s helmet.
My eyes dart to the bench. My Vengeance players are on their feet, leaning over the half wall and I can tell by the looks on their faces they want to clear the bench and join the brawl.
“Don’t do it,” I mutter under my breath. We can’t afford the suspensions that will come if they leave the bench.
The kids from Miller House are going nuts. They are experiencing a rarity indeed… a full-line brawl with even the goalies going at it, and the kids couldn’t be enjoying themselves more.
Luckily, it’s all over fairly quickly. The four officials move in, somehow managing to break up the fights. To give my guys credit, they seem to realize this could get out of control and cause injuries, which could severely impact our future. Those whose fights have broken up start to pull their teammates out of the fray. The last two combatants to be diffused are Legend and the Demon goalie, who have really only managed to wrestle each other in what I deem to be a display of nothing more than not wanting to be left out of the fun.