Shootout (Northbrook Hockey Elite Book 6)

by Sophia Summers

  “It’s all you girls, really. You’re amazing dancers.”

  Once they were dressed again, it was time for the shovels. When they exited out onto the ice, the stands went crazy. Everyone on their feet, cheering them on. Janae smiled and waved. She couldn’t believe all the hype.

  And then she giggled. The players had lined up in the middle with hands out as the girls skated by, and they were each getting a high five from the hockey players.

  The next morning, Janae sat across from the hosts on Good Morning Detroit, trying not to yawn even one time. The hostess had asked her all kinds of great questions, about where Janae had come from, her history, her experience, her goals. Then she said, “So, really you came here hoping to get out as soon as you made a name for yourself.”

  Then the screen went blank.

  “Wait, don’t I get to answer that?”

  “Oh, sure, honey, we just went to commercial.”

  “But that’s kind of a bad way to end. If people don’t stick around, they’re going to think I’m using the Comets to step up to something better.”

  “Well, aren’t you?” Her gaze was challenging, but Janae didn’t back down. “No, I’m not.” And she knew it was true. She was building something special with this team, and she wanted to stick around to see what it could become.

  “Then you better tell our audience that after the commercial.” She waved her hand. “In three, two, one.”

  “So, you said something right before the break that I disagree with.”

  “Oh? And what was that?”

  “That I was hoping to leave the Comets as soon as possible. That’s not true. I’m here to see where this can go. I’ve started something amazing, and I want to watch and see where it ends up. I love the team, the girls, the owner and the coaches. They’re like family.”

  “Some are closer than others, aren’t they?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Oh, just that rumor has it you and the elusive Trane Jones have found a sweet spot on and off the ice.”

  “Well, certainly not on the ice.” She laughed, and the audience did too.

  “Oh no? Look at this footage someone shared with us.”

  She showed a video of her and Trane on the Zamboni.

  Janae held her hands to her face. “That is a personal moment between me and Trane.” She looked into the camera. “Can’t you see how that’s personal?”

  “Oh honey, they want to see all that personal stuff. Think of us as your girlfriends. We’re a part of your life, we’re cheering for you and hope the best for you and Trane.”

  “Hm. Thank you.” She wanted nothing more than to walk out of the studio, but she kept herself planted in her chair by pure force of will. The smile on her face may have looked forced but it remained.

  “You are so welcome, so now that the deets are out, spill the rest of the tea.”

  “Well.” She laughed. “There’s not much to spill. We’re figuring this whole thing out as we go. He’s a great guy. I feel lucky to have him in my life.”

  “He sure is. Wow, our Diesel has been a hot item on the team since he got here.”

  Janae just nodded. She didn’t know what more to say. She just wanted it all to end.

  “So, that about wraps this whole thing up, any last comments?”

  “Yes, we love the support for our new dances. If you could keep that up even with the social media shares and things. It makes a difference.” She waved. “Thank you.”

  “And done.” Their hostess took off her microphone. “You did great.”

  “I can’t believe you did that. Where did you get that video?”

  “Oh, hey, a good news woman never reveals her sources.”

  Janae shook her head. “That wasn’t cool.”

  “That’s the way it works honey. You’re lucky we went that direction instead of exposing his dad and that whole mess.” She clucked. “You’re much more interesting to our viewers anyway.”

  Janae felt her stomach drop. Then she stood. “Leave Trane and his dad out of this.”

  “Don’t worry. I told you. You’re much more interesting.”

  Janae walked out of that studio flaming mad. She couldn’t recall a time she’d been more angry.

  Her phone rang. Trane. Her heart clenched. “Hello?”

  “So, you’re trying to get of here as soon as you can?”

  “No.”

  “That’s not what it sounded like?”

  “Well, that’s the truth.”

  “And who sent the footage?” His tone sounded so accusatory, so angry.

  “I’d like to ask you the same question.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, who’s idea was it to ride the Zamboni? I certainly wouldn’t have asked for someone to video myself working out.” Suddenly she knew who might have taken the video.

  “Why are we even having this conversation?”

  “You called me, Trane. I’m as ticked off as you are. And your accusations aren’t helping.”

  He let out a bunch of air into the phone. He was quiet for so long she thought he’d hung up. Then he said, “You’re right. I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet.

  “Just like that?”

  “Yeah, I freaked out. Are you leaving Detroit?”

  “Didn’t you watch the rest of the show?”

  “No. I turned off the television. But the replay on the Zamboni is everywhere.”

  “Turns out she was using that as a segue into commercial to get people to stick around. I began the conversation explaining that I was sticking around.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sounds like I should go watch it.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “Janae.”

  “What?”

  “Will you come to Tennessee with me?”

  Her grin grew, but she didn’t want him to know so she waited until she could answer without squealing. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

  “We going to be okay?”

  “I don’t totally know, but Tennessee sounds nice.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Chapter 19

  Trane was just happy Janae agreed to come with him after he lost it and called her, complaining. What was wrong with him? She had a right to leave Detroit if she wanted to. But he’d panicked and called her. And turns out, everything was fine. Watching the show after commercial, he saw the fire in her eyes, the irritation at the stunt the host had pulled. And he knew his Janae was sticking around, at least for now. She wanted to watch what she’d created become something special. And he hoped she wanted to stick around to be with him.

  He waited for her at the airport in Tennessee. Her flight arrived a little later than his with the team. But she should have been walking down to baggage any minute. People around him were giving him double and triple takes. He supposed he stood out if only for his size.

  A kid and his father approached. “Are you Trane Jones?” The kid looked to be around ten years old.

  “Yes I am.”

  “See Dad. I told you it’s Trane. Hey can I have your autograph?”

  “Sure. What do you want me to sign?”

  The kid dug around in his pockets, and searched for something for so long that Trane had mercy on him and pulled a puck out of his backpack, already signed. “Would you look at that!”

  “No way! That’s awesome!”

  “Thank you, sir.” His dad held out a hand. “I’m Tony Valdez. And it’s a real honor to meet you.”

  “My pleasure, hey if it helps kids work for their dreams, if it helps them have focus and direction, I’m more than happy to help. He held out his hand. “And what is your name?”

  “I’m Tony too.”

  “Great to meet you Tony.”

  He smiled as he watched them walk away, a father with his arm around his son. When he looked up, Janae was standing in front of him with her bags.

  “Oh great! When did you ar
rive?”

  “I’ve just been right over there, watching that sweet little boy, and you.” Her eyes were misty and a little dreamy.

  “And what did you think?”

  “You’re so great with kids. They look up to you. And you treat them like normal people. I think you have a gift.”

  Her words meant more to him than she realized. “Thank you.” He held out his hand. “You ready for some amazing Tennessee fried chicken and biscuits?”

  “If you suggest it, I’ve learned to just say yes. Cause I know it will be exceptional.” She laughed to herself, thinking about what the ice girls would say about fried chicken. She didn’t care one bit.

  “Perfect. Let’s go right now.” He led her to a waiting limo. “Giorgi is our driver, and he is going to take care of us tonight.”

  “Hello Giorgi.”

  “Hello bella.”

  She climbed in and leaned back. “This is nice.”

  Trane stretched out his legs. “I could get used to it. It’s nice for away games. But I might prefer the truck for the home games.”

  “I do love your truck.”

  “This car has the same feature.” He reached out and spread his palm at her hip and tugged her closer to him.

  As she snuggled into him he hoped things would work out. For the first time in his life, he felt ready to try something more serious. “I’ve got you seats behind the goalie. So for most of the game you’ll be right behind me. I hope that’s okay?”

  “That’s perfect since you’re who I’m here to see.”

  “And their ice girls, they’ve got nothing on ours.”

  She smiled against him.

  He dropped her off at the hotel and left his luggage before heading over to the arena. Coach called an early arrival and practice.

  The Pit was going.

  Rocco had started something. Diesel and Zane going at it today.

  This is going to be one low scoring game.

  Lots of thumbs up followed. Trane clicked to respond. Janae is here.

  Oooh. Zane you gotta make the Diesel look good.

  I’ll do my best, but some things can’t be helped.

  Trane sent a laughing emoji. Dinner.

  I’ll be there.

  They went off on a tangent about another team who was predicted to play Jax in the Stanley Cup. Their main wing had just become the Pit’s number one rival.

  After a couple hours of warm up practice, Trane had all his pads on and the team was ready for the game. They stood in a line in the team’s box, listening to the national anthem. Coach said they had to be out at the rink. Then after, new music started. Trane recognized it as a medley of all the armed forces. The announcer got back on. “And now, a moment to celebrate the men and women in our armed forces. Please stand so that you can be recognized.”

  Trane thought about Clint. He was a retired Marine. Peppered through the crowd men and women stood. Trane watched as their close friends and family cheered them on. Some looked like they wished to hide, others stood proudly. Some saluted. It was a beautiful sight.

  He found Janae sitting behind his goal. She had her hand on her heart. He couldn’t tell what she was looking at. A man next to their box looked like he was in his eighties. A younger woman stood beside him, gripping his elbow. He stood tall, his legs shaking beneath him. And suddenly Trane wanted to be the man holding him up. What had he given during his full life on the earth? What had he sacrificed? Trane’s chest pounded inside as he considered his own life. What had Trane yet done for others?

  When the music started and the lights flashed everywhere, Trane considered his job guarding the goal. He’d wanted to play pro his entire life. And now here he was, with more money than he knew what to do with. He spent his life, day in and out, focused on keeping a small black puck out of his goal. And there was nothing wrong with that. It was awesome. But maybe there was more.

  Maybe he’d talk it over with Janae. His eyes met hers. She grinned and clapped for him. He used his stick to salute from his helmet and then he circled with the team. Janae, sitting in the audience, was doing things to him. She always watched at home. He knew the ice girls were down there cheering in front of the televisions, but somehow this was different. And he was happy she’d come.

  Trane’s goal had a water bottle at the back. He rarely drank from it, but today, during the first period, he found five reasons to reach back for a drink when the puck was at the other end.

  Janae smiled each time. Her face was full of sunshine.

  Then the pace of the game picked up, and his defenders were letting more and more pucks get through. He focused in where he was supposed to and stayed forward on the front part of his skates.

  During the third period, everyone on the rink became heated. The tension hummed through his skates. He moved from side to side unable to keep still. Without thinking, he waved his stick around on the ice in his box, clearing imaginary white fluff the girls had already taken out with their shovels. The puck drop was about to happen right in front of him. And he bent his knees, leaning forward.

  The ref chucked it down on the ice and the other team picked it up. Trane waited, watching that small black biscuit until the guy slammed it toward him. Trane dove, but he guessed wrong. The wing had shot the puck toward the opposite corner. It hit Trane’s leg and would have gone in but Trane dove back, throwing his body toward it enough that it bounced off the tip of his glove.

  He stood, breathing hard while they battled for possession behind him. The puck came back around, and one of the wings stood in Trane’s face, trying to shove his way past into the goal.

  “You know you’re not getting in here,” Trane said to the other team’s players. “Take your pint size somewhere else.”

  “We’re going to score off you old man. We’re going to win this game. There’s nothing you can do about it.” He shoved Trane.

  “Nice try, junior. Hurry back to your mama, and let me play hockey.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. And this puck is coming right back here. And it’s going in.” He laughed. “Oh, is that your girlfriend back there?”

  Trane growled.

  “What! It is?” He blew kisses at the glass behind Trane.

  He gritted his teeth until his jaw ached.

  “Maybe she’d like some company tonight.”

  Trane shoved him.

  The crowd went crazy.

  “Oh yes, she looks like she’d be good company. Hmmm. Real nice…”

  Before the punk could stand there and imagine one more thing about Janae, Trane barreled into him, whacking his legs with his stick. He shoved him so hard the guy stumbled backwards and landed on his back. The crowd went crazy. The whistle blew, and Trane was put in the penalty box.

  The coach was furious. Absolutely spitting mad. The team wouldn’t look at him.

  But Trane was more angry than every one of them. Let that guy try even one thing, and he was going to pound him.

  “Cool it.” His coach mouthed to him.

  Trane looked away.

  And they were without a goalie for one more minute.

  His defenders did their best but the Tennessee Hounds scored.

  Zane skated by, watching him. “You okay?”

  Trane shook his head.

  Z skated to the wing who was giving Trane trouble, and the two had some words, but Z skated away, shaking his head. The puck dropped again and finally Trane was able to race back to his goal.

  But on his way, his dad stared at him from halfway down the stairs, moving toward Janae. He nearly tripped. And almost passed by his goal to move to the glass.

  Get a hold on yourself. He tried breathing, but his breaths came out fast and furious. What would he say to her? When he had a second, he turned. His dad hadn’t moved. But Trane shook his head.

  And then he laughed and started walking down toward the glass. Toward Janae.

  And Trane saw red.

  The puck came at him, he sent it flying away, not even to a player,
just clear down to the other side of the rink.

  Tiny came back to bother him. Trane shoved him so hard, he tripped backwards again. Someone else came within inches of his box, and they were out of there before they could think about crossing into his space. And he breathed. Janae could take care of herself. Hopefully she got up and left.

  But he couldn’t turn around to see. The puck came barreling toward his chest. He caught it with a glove and sent it flying down the ice again, this time to his own wing.

  They raced past Zane, faked the Hounds’ goalie and scored. They were tied up. And Trane didn’t even care. He turned for his water. Janae sent him a heart with her hands. “It’s okay.”

  But his dad sat on her same row, two chairs down. And all he could do was lean back and laugh in response to Trane’s scowl.

  He knew his dad was egging him on. He was being a bully. Trane tried to calm down about it all. Janae didn’t need him defending her honor to the other guys. She didn’t need protection from his dad, though that was debatable since the man seemed bent on ruining Trane’s peace of mind. But besides all of that mess going on in his personal life, Trane had a job to do.

  At period break, he left the ice, his head a complete mess.

  Zane met him in the exit ramp. “Dude, what’s wrong with your head?”

  “The guys insulted Janae.”

  He snorted. “So? Come on. They’ll insult your dog if they think you care.”

  “And my dad’s here.”

  Zane’s eyes sharpened.

  “Over by Janae behind my box.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll take care of it. You just get back in the game.” He grabbed Trane’s helmet. “Brothers.”

  Trane head locked him. “Brothers. Thanks.”

  He made his way back to the team room feeling better, so that when his coach laid into him, he took it without letting it get to him.

  When the whistle blew, he was back and focused. During a commercial break, two security guards arrived to escort his dad out of the arena. And all Trane could do now was laugh. He winked at Janae. And took four deep breaths. Maybe he’d make it through the game after all.

  But then Tiny was back, in his face. Even though the puck was down at the other end, he stood in Trane’s face, making talk. And Trane ignored him.