Jase

by MariaLisa deMora

  “Both, actually, eh?” She sighed.

  “Jesus Murphy, what was she thinking?” He tipped his head back against the wall in frustration. “You sure you don’t want me home for this, Ma?”

  “I’m sure, Jase. We have things under control for now and she’s okay. She will be okay. I’ll call you again tomorrow, give you a bit of an update, eh?” She took a long, shaky breath.

  “Yeah. Give the old man a hug and tell my Sharona I’ll talk to her soonish. Love you, Ma.” He rolled his neck and shoulders, working out the stress and tightness.

  “Je t’aime, Jase.” She disconnected the call and he stood holding the handset for a few minutes.

  Giving himself a shake, he brought his attention back to Daniel’s office, realizing he missed a question. “I asked do you want me to do the whole thing or pull an agent in for you?”

  “I trust you to do the honors,” he said with a smile.

  “Yeah, you just don’t want to give up the twenty to an agent.” Daniel was joking with him, but there was a seed of truth to the words.

  “Twenty percent is a lot to some of us, man,” Jase said, standing to leave. “Thanks again, Daniel. This means the world.”

  ***

  Sitting in the locker room unlacing his skates, Jase found it hard to believe it had only been a month since he first approached Daniel about leaving the Mallets. Things had moved quickly once Fort Wayne understood he was serious about the trade. Tonight was his last time skating on the Chicago home ice, his last time wearing the green and black colors of the team he had been a part of since returning from Russia at twenty-two, over eight years ago.

  The silence of the room caught his attention, and he looked up to see team members with phones in hand, their faces turned his way as the word of his departure swept through the locker room. He wanted to wait until the last minute to tell everyone, so he didn’t screw up the dynamics of the team for this series. Daniel had managed to get the Fort Wayne and league management to agree to hold the announcement until after tonight’s game was over. He was certain they would have published something by now, and the Mallets fans had probably already picked it up and were retweeting and reposting like mad.

  Half of the team was looking at him, but the other half were staring over at Daniel, apparently assessing his mood. Some of them were probably wondering what had happened between the two men, because their tight friendship had long been a stable foundation for the entire team’s game play. They were trying to analyze the situation, because while evidently he was traded and had known about it beforehand, he and Daniel together had skated some of their best shifts of the season tonight, and he had been awarded one of the team’s highest honors just before the game.

  Slapping the trademark smirk on his face, crooked and full of playful adventure, he slipped off his skates and stood, facing his teammates. “Aww, naw. Come on, none of that, guys. This was my request. I’m ready to move on; you boys just aren’t challenging enough any longer.” His attempt at a joke fell flat and he grimaced.

  “I’m kidding. About your skills, ‘cause you got ’em in spades. But, it’s my request. I need a change. And if things work out the way I want, then everything will be worth it. Like Gretzky said, ‘You miss one hundred percent of the shots you never take’, and I’m taking this shot, eh? So, there you go. I’ll need you to wish me luck, tell me to break a leg, chuck a puck, whatever.

  “It’s been an absolute honor to share ice with you guys, and I’m proud as hell to have worn the Mallets colors for so many games. We won the fucking playoffs last year, and that’s a memory to hold to, yeah?”

  He stepped up on the bench behind him, clutching Gary’s shoulder to steady himself. The man looked furious, and probably had a right to be, since he had been kept in the dark along with the rest of the team. The only people he told other than Daniel and Nate had been his parents.

  “So tonight let’s go to Jackson’s and celebrate, eh? Get our celly on. Fucking win column for my last game here. Couldn’t have asked for a better way to go out, eh? You gotta keep this going too; don’t want Coach here to lose his job.” Laughter scattered across the group and he saw a loosening of tension in jaws and necks as his teammates realized this had been his request, that it wasn’t a trade forced on him by someone supposed to be his friend.

  He threw his head back and yelled, “WOOOO! Fuckin’ win column, baby! Let’s shower and get the hell outta here, so we get our celly on.” Hopping down from the bench, he accepted the handshakes and back-pounding hugs from his friends and teammates. Catching Daniel’s eyes from across the room, he nodded at him in thanks, fingering the co-captain patch that had been sewn to his jersey for tonight’s game. Daniel nodded back and then dropped his head, busying himself with his own post-game rituals.

  ***

  Mason stared at him from across the bar, a look of incredulity on his face. “You’re doing what, motherfucker?”

  “Moving to Fort Wayne. Starting in two days, I’ll be playing for the Fort Wayne Tridents. Got a condo lined up, furniture rented, eighty-inch flat screen already in place. It’s a fucking palace.” Jase took a drink from his beer, cautiously watching Mason’s face across the rim.

  Turning to look at Daniel, Mason narrowed his eyes. “You on board with this, man?” He asked the question casually, but his posture belied that with the muscles in his arms tensing, the side of his jaw ticking with pressure as his teeth gritted together.

  “Yeah. The man made a convincing argument. I could have forced him to stay and play out his contract, but he’s found something worth fighting for. Seems like he’s willing to make a hell of a sacrifice to see where things go. Kinda reminds me of someone.” Daniel smiled at Mason.

  “She knows you’re coming?” He directed this question back at Jase, who shook his head.

  “We’re talking tonight. I plan on telling her then. She wanted me down for the weekend,” he laughed. “This will just extend the stay indefinitely. I’m not invading her neighborhood; the new condo is a ten-minute drive from her apartment, but it’s close enough to be convenient. I figured I’d touch base with Slate as soon as I get into town, see if he can hook me up with someone to keep my riding skills in shape.”

  “I’ll let Slate know so he’s expecting you. Birdy’s moving down there, too, so you’ll know a couple of the boys. DeeDee though, that’s all you, man. Respect, Jase. Turning your life upside down for a woman that don’t even know you’re coming is crazy. I hope it works out the way you want.” Here, he leaned closer to Jase, lowering his voice. “But if it doesn’t, then you will leave her the fuck alone. You get in her space unwanted and I will fuck you up, friends or not. You fuck her over? I will fuck you up. Stay out of club business, keep your goddamn nose clean, don’t fucking shit on her, and we’ll be all fine and dandy. Stray from that path, and we got us a goddamn fucking problem. You get me, Jase Spencer?”

  Jase felt a kick of fear while Mason was speaking to him. Mason on a rant was frightening, but Mason like this, quietly delivering a threatening promise, was downright terrifying. His balls were trying to escape back up into his belly and his skin rose in goose flesh all over his body. All he could hear was Mason, all he could see was Mason, and he knew that his friend meant every word. While it might bother him to do it, he would deliver on every promise if Jase fucked up. Davis Mason was a dangerous man, and it was never smart to lose sight of that fact. Jase had faced and fought some of the fiercest enforcers in both the KHL and AHL, but this man was scary at an entirely different level. He swallowed, his suddenly dry throat clicking as with a serious tone and a steady, slow nod, he responded, “I got you, Mason. I understand, man.”

  “Well, all right,” Mason said. His shoulders and arms relaxed as he leaned back, and with that, the air around them lightened, the noise of the bar rushing back into the vacuum, click and clack of pool balls and murmur of conversation audible again. “Have a couple of rounds on me, man. Will be strange not seeing your sorry ass around here any
more.”

  Setting up several shot glasses on the bar, Mason splashed liquor into the glasses and spoke to Daniel. “Good game tonight, caught the last frame on the box. How does Jase leaving change things for you?”

  Daniel launched into an explanation of how Rodney Dahl, a sophomore forward, would be stepping up. Jase watched as other members of the team drifted up, listening while their captain laid out the strategy for the next few games. He already felt a separation from them, knowing that they would be the ones executing Daniel’s plans, while he would be on the ice in another town with a pack of strangers, their only commonality a love of the game. Even with these guys, playing alongside some of them for several seasons, he knew that few would make the effort to stay in touch. Their careers were too transient to maintain long-lasting connections.

  Small fingers slipped into the back pocket of his jeans and he whipped his arm back, grabbing the hand tightly as he turned around. Shouting with laughter, he wrapped the petite blonde in his arms, picking her up off the floor in a tight hug. Gripping her waist, he lifted her to the bar, setting her beside where Mason was still working on the drinks. “Jessica Nalan, I hoped I’d see you tonight.” He grinned at her, laughing as her blue eyes narrowed with a frown.

  “Help me down, you Neanderthal,” she scolded him and then grinned, reaching out to playfully slap his face. “I haven’t seen you in too long, Jase. How’s a girl supposed to get her cockblock on if she can’t find a cock to block? Hmmmm?”

  Next to Mason, Jess was Mica’s best friend, and the girls had worked together since the two of them graduated college. Together, they made up the backbone of Mica’s company, MishMash Development. Jess was a talented programmer, and Jase had watched her when she was working on the team’s revamped website last year, marveling at how quickly she pulled the various components together while fielding outrageous requests from management and players.

  “She bothering you, mister?” He heard the question and recognized the voice, so without looking, he reached out to wrap his arm around the shoulders of the dark-skinned woman beside him.

  “Hey, Brandy. I’m gonna miss all of your delectable deliciousness, darling.” Grinning, he looked down at her. Brandy Still was Jess’ girlfriend and the owner of a local bakery. “You gonna miss me, sweetie?”

  Jess piped up from her perch on the bar, “How can we miss you if you won’t go away?” Reaching over, she picked up a shot glass and smelled it, smiling at Mason and saying, “Oh. Lemondrops. Yum!”

  Daniel looked up, asking her, “Mica come with you?”

  Nodding, Jess said, “She’s sitting in the car. Something went wrong with a project, so she’s got folks on the phone. She’ll be coming in a minute.” She sipped the drink and turned to Jase, asking, “Why would we miss you, chunk of hunk?”

  “It’s my last night in Chicago,” he said, watching her face slowly lose the laughter as she realized he was serious. “I’m trading to Fort Wayne.”

  Without taking her eyes off him, she yelled, “Daniel!” pulling everyone’s gaze to her. Turning to look at her best friend’s husband, she continued shouting. “What the fuck are you thinking? Did you seriously trade Jason? My Jase?” She put her feet on a wobbly stool and carelessly stood while Jase wrapped his arm around her legs to keep her from falling. “Dude. You, Jase, and Gary are the magic line. You are the fucking mystical shift. You can’t do this to me. Daniel, please.” She held out her hands. “How can I like you if you trade Jase? And then, how can I stay friends with Mica if I don’t like her husband? Don’t take my best friend away, Daniel.” Her voice turned pleading. “Be reasonable. Give me Jase back. Let me keep Mica.”

  Laughing, Daniel reached up and helped Jess down from the stool. “He didn’t give me much of a choice. Talk to him; he’s the one who demanded the trade.”

  Whirling around, she poked Jase in the chest repeatedly and painfully with a stiff finger. “You wanted to leave us? I’m wounded…devastated. Why would you want to leave? These people are your friends. I’m your friend.”

  Nodding, he grabbed her finger with his hand, pulling her into another hug. “True love,” he whispered into her ear, and she stilled against him in reaction.

  Pulling back, she looked up into his face as she blindly reached behind her. Brandy seemed to know what she needed and grasped her hand, threading their fingers together. She stared at him for a long minute, then sighed and thumped her forehead against his chest, mumbling, “Well then, okay. Now that I can understand.”

  ***

  “What do you mean you’re moving to Fort Wayne?” The disbelief was thick in DeeDee’s voice; the giveaway was that carefully modulated tone she used when trying to clarify something without seeming to question you. He noticed she used it a lot with the Rebel members, less frequently with him, but when she did, it meant something.

  “I’m traded to the Tridents, baby,” he said, waiting for a reaction.

  “You’ll be playing for the Fort Wayne team? Why would Daniel do that? When did this happen, Jase?” She sounded affronted on his behalf, which he found cute as hell.

  “Daniel worked out a deal for me,” he told her. “Tonight was my last game as a Mallet. Tomorrow, I move down there. There’s a condo all set- up and waiting. Furniture should be delivered while I’m driving my truck down in the morning. Practice is the day after tomorrow, and the first game is Saturday.” He paused, waiting for her to respond, and when she didn’t, he said, “I was hoping you’d be pleased, DeeDee.”

  An additional beat of silence passed and he sighed, smiling, ready to give her an out, take the pressure off. “I know it’s a lot to take in, baby. Let me know when you’re ready to talk about it. Tell me about your day. Did Mercy behave herself?”

  Anxiously, he waited to see if she would take the opening, holding his breath and then letting it out in a silent rush when she responded, “Yeah, she’s kept her heels off customer crotches for nearly two weeks now. For a while there, I was afraid we had to register her shoes as deadly weapons.” Laughing, he asked more questions about managing the club, giving her a chance to establish their customary, comfortable back-and-forth repartee.

  They had been talking for about thirty minutes when she received another call. She told him to hang on and placed their call on hold. Almost immediately, he received a text from Mason, and then one from Hoss, and then another from Mason. Putting the call on speaker for when she came back, he flipped over to the messages, and as he read them, his stomach dropped, fear rushing in. Ruby, DeeDee’s daughter and Slate’s woman, had been abducted.

  Staggered, he texted DeeDee to call him back as soon as she could and hung up, dialing Mason as instructed. “What can I do?” he asked by way of greeting.

  “Get your ass down there. DeeDee’s gonna need you, even if nothing else happens tonight, and especially even if she doesn’t think so right now,” Mason growled. “I’m hanging tight here until things are resolved. Then I’ll be in the wind myself. Motherfuckers don’t know what they stirred up with this shit. They do not fucking understand how it is. We will coat the motherfucking streets with red. Get to the Fort; someone will text you with DeeDee’s location. She’s being moved right now to make sure she’s safe.”

  “I’m on my way, Mason. Keep her safe for me,” he pleaded, not knowing if she was in danger, but wanting Mason’s reassurance.

  “We will, brother. She’s family. We got her, man. Ratchet it in and get in the wind.” Mason disconnected the call and Jase leaned back on his couch for a moment. Straightening and unfolding to his feet, he looked around the apartment, glad he already packed the truck with everything except what he had on his back. As the door pulled closed behind him, he focused on what was ahead of him, easily setting aside what was behind.

  Learning the ice

  “I want a hard around dump and chase.” The coach was yelling from the bench area, calling a multi-player skills practice routine and Jase lifted a tired hand, indicating understanding. This was the second wee
k as a Trident, and he was pushing himself harder every day, learning new drills and trying to anticipate the offensive needs of the team. They won three of the four games in which he played, but things still weren’t clicking with his line.

  Since nothing was instinctive yet, he couldn’t relax and flow with the play. He thought he understood now why Daniel was so tired after playing, because that man was constantly analyzing games, even when they were going on around him. That was how Jase had to skate right now, reading things on the fly and then matching the way the line was skating to a mental index card of plays.

  He knew it would come with time, but he wanted very much to make this work quickly, since he requested the trade. There was a deep need to prove his worth to the organization, even if none of the players were aware of the circumstances. In fact, as far as anyone on either team knew, this was an ordinary trade, something management had worked out. Daniel had gotten a good backup goaltender in the deal, which was key for the Mallets, because while Dierk was talented, it was important to have a strong second in the wings.

  “Good,” the coach yelled, “that’s good. Bring it in, Spencer.”

  Skating over to the bench, he stepped off the ice and onto the mats, grabbing a water bottle and shooting a long stream of water into his mouth. He pushed his unfastened helmet on top of his head, took a towel from one of the equipment guys with a thankful nod, and wiped the stinging sweat from his eyes.

  “Looking good, Jase,” Leeland Dugger, the Tridents’ long-time team captain, told him as he slid to a stop against the boards beside the bench.

  “Thanks, Cap’n,” Jase responded, feeling a twinge of disloyalty. Daniel had been his captain for a long time, but that was part of what was behind him. From what he saw so far, this man was well deserving of the honorific, working to develop a good rapport with all the team members and encouraging everyone during practice and game play.