by Tijan
Feeling the chill from the ice, how it felt fucking flying over it, easing in and around my opponents, all of that and more. There was just more happening tonight.
The smack talk wasn’t affecting me one bit. I was in a zone.
My stick was a part of me. The puck too.
Hendrix lined up, but I knew his read. It was in our play, and I skated up into place. His wrist moved. The puck came to me, and I was there, ready for it, and it flicked past two opponents, past the goalie, and swish. I went Top Shelf. The puck hit the net.
This shit never got old. Ever.
I completed the turn, rounding past the goalie, and Hendrix was on the other side to meet me.
One done.
More to go.
This would not be a one and done. Not for damn sure.
Then, the call came, and we switched up. Second line was out, and we were on the bench. I got some pats on my pads, my helmet. The coach gave me a nod, and Franklin banged against the box. He was still doing some time. We’d all been there before, it was just part of the play.
Sitting, taking a breather, I got a water and towel handed to me. That felt good, but I wanted back out there.
“Your family came tonight?”
It took a second for the question from Hendrix to penetrate.
We weren’t far from where I first grew up.
“Yeah. My brothers too. We’re doing dinner after. You want to come?”
He nodded. “You know it. I like Mama Alice.”
I smirked. Everyone liked Mama Alice, and all hockey fans loved Killer Mama Alice at our games.
“Ryder.”
I looked at Coach. He motioned to the ice. “Get out there.”
It wasn’t unusual to switch up the lines, but hell yeah, I was ready.
We waited, then made the switch. Alex skated in and I jumped off, moving into position.
I pushed forward, meeting up against the other team’s defender, and it was then that I got it. He was fast. I knew he was fast. Everyone knew he was fast, but going against him, Alex wasn’t as fast.
Thirty seconds later, Hendrix moved next to me.
We changed lines.
Changed again.
It was the end of the first period when we got the puck back, when I faked at shooting, gave it to Hendrix, and he got it in.
Lines changed up. I got a breather, and like last time, Coach sent me out for Alex once more.
This guy on the other team was good. He was winding up, but I moved in.
He slapped it to his teammate. Franklin was moving in. He intersected and we weaved around each other, then back into position.
We were holding it.
The other team was good. They’d held us off for most of the first period, but we had two goals in.
I should’ve been ready. A part of me was ready, but Franklin hit the puck to me.
I got it and bam!
I was shoved down, blindsided and looking up—their fucking enforcer.
His check was legal, barely, and he flew past me with a smirk on his face. “Two more to go, Ryder.”
I glared, feeling a spike in my blood. The magical spell of the game had been interrupted, but I knew that was why he was targeting me. He wanted in my head. Well, welcome to the shitshow and walk your ass right in. Enforcers didn’t work on me how they worked on most players. They brought an edge to the game, knowing you’re targeted, and I welcomed that edge. I used that edge to up my speed, up my adrenaline, up everything, and the more aggressive he got against me, the more aggressive I got against his teammates.
He just didn’t know that yet.
It was in the second period when he made his move.
He swung in.
I saw him coming, moved the puck to Franklin, and I turned to meet him.
Okay, asshole.
He read me and veered back.
He was bluffing, but I read him right and I nodded to Franklin.
I pushed forward, veering right past their enforcer as he was swinging back around. He wasn’t ready for that. Franklin shot to me and I moved forward with the puck, Franklin swung in against their enforcer. No contact was made, but Hendrix was skating with me.
I passed to Hendrix.
Hendrix passed to Franklin.
Franklin moved in, got cut off, and the puck came back to me.
I lined up, did a tight circle, and tapped it to Hendrix.
Hendrix got it in.
Goal three.
Then their enforcer came at me.
There was no bluffing this time.
Two games in a row.
Fuck.
My jaw hurt. My hands hurt. Everything hurt.
I was tired.
The mind games had me tired by the end of this game.
We were up three to one. Alex let one in, and I was hurting, so Coach kept me for my breather.
He signaled the line change, but I was held back.
Alex stayed on.
Another thirty seconds.
The third line went out.
Alex came back in and his gaze found mine. I read the apology there and dipped my head. There was nothing else to say. This was the game.
“You good?” From the assistant coach.
I nodded. I wasn’t but I gritted my teeth. That was all strategy from their team. Their defender was better than Alex. I was out there. I had the stamina to meet him, best him at times, and then they sent their head-fuck guy in and it worked. I fought him off, but that beast was raging in me, simmering underneath. He wanted out to play.
I hit the ice, felt that ‘home’ feeling, and I smiled.
I was letting the beast out.
There was no way they’d see him coming.
At the end of our last period, I heard from the stands, “WAY TO KILL ’EM, CUT! I NAMED YOU THAT FOR A REASON!”
There was a roar from the stands.
Yeah. Everyone loved Killer Mama Alice.
9
Cut
The team headed for the hotel, but I had it worked out to stay the night with my family. It was on my dime to fly back the next day, not with the team. It was worth it, especially now walking out from the arena, my entire body tired from our post-game workout and my mom was waiting for me.
“Hey, big guy.”
Same greeting after every game, with a wide smile, and she held her tiny arms out for me.
I bent down, hugging her back and she embraced me, squeezing tight. Another reminder never to underestimate Killer Mama Alice. She had the grip of a bear, and once she was done hugging me, she let me go and patted my arms. “You’re looking dapper.”
I raised an eyebrow.
Dapper.
The Killer part of her name was gone since the game was done.
“Hey, Mom.”
Her face softened, and she pulled me back in for another hug. “Oh, man. I have missed you.”
I glanced around, but no one else was with her. “Where are the others?”
“Your dad went to get the vehicle, and you know Dylan and Jamison. They said to text them when you showed and they’d meet us at the door.”
I did know my brothers. “They’re off flirting with girls?”
She grinned, patting me on the arm as I started for the arena’s door for the players and family. “You know it.” She was pulling her phone out when one of the attendants came over.
“Mr. Ryder, a driver is out front saying he’s your father.”
I nodded.
Alice snorted. “Can we tell them he’s not your father?”
“Mom.”
She laughed. “What? It wouldn’t last, but it’d be fun to see what he would do.”
Her phone was buzzing and I noted, watching her as she read the messages, “He’d just park and then call you to have us walk out to him.”
“True. It’s not worth it.” She was punching buttons on her phone, frowning and biting her lip. “Your brothers. Do they really think we’re going to let them go to a nightclub wit
h some girls they just met tonight?” A pause. A ding from her phone, and she laughed. “And I don’t care to see these girls’ Instagram accounts. The amount of skin these girls are showing does not help their case.” She was narrating as she typed, “No. You cannot go out with these girls. We’re here to see your brother. Period. Get back. Now.”
We were nearing the door. “You told them, Mom.”
“Damn right, I did.” She was still frowning, still talking to the phone.
Another ding.
She groaned, then hit a button and put the phone to her ear. A second later, she said in her ‘mom’ voice, “I do not care how nice these girls seem like. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the size of their breasts, but we came here to see your brother. Your brother who has just played a game and I’m sure is tired and under-hydrated and you are his brothers and you’re holding us up! Get here now.” A break. “The family doors. The same ones we’ve exited many times before because this is not the first time we’ve left with your brother after his away game.”
She’d raised her voice, and was garnering attention.
I was just enjoying it. Same Dylan and Jamison.
She rolled her eyes. “You’ve got two minutes or you can pay for your own Uber to the restaurant. Got it?” She didn’t wait for their response. She hung up and turned, a bright smile for me as she linked her arm around mine. “Your brothers are excited to see you. They love you very much.”
I barked out a laugh now, and lifted my arm to circle my mom’s shoulders. I pulled her in and leaned down, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “I love you, Mom. And I was a boy, too. I know what my brothers are loving more right now than me.”
Some of her annoyance eased and she relaxed. “They’re good boys.”
Dylan was a junior and Jamison was a sophomore.
Both were good-looking, and both played sports. Jamison followed me into hockey while Dylan kept with football and baseball, but both were athletic, popular, and they had their fair amount of girls hitting up their DMs.
The family SUV was parked by the curb, two parking attendants were standing by the driver’s door and as we neared, I wasn’t surprised to hear my dad talking about the game.
“Oh yeah! I know. And did you see that cheap shot at the end? I wanted to head to the ice myself.”
Both attendants were nodding, agreeing, and then Alice opened the front door.
“Cut! Yo!”
Dylan and Jamison were heading down the sidewalk, coming around the back end of the arena and both were walking fast. Their voices carried. The attendants looked through the SUV and I heard them starting to talk, but I stepped back to meet my brothers.
Alice reached over, taking my bag from me.
She was Supermom Extraordinaire, and she was putting it away for me as both my brothers got to me.
They looked good.
Each wrapped me up in their arms, giving me tight hugs.
Dylan. Jeez. I hadn’t seen in a while. “You’ve gotten even bigger.”
He smirked, raking a hand through his dark curls. “Yeah, well. Gotta keep up with our superstar brother.” He pounded me on the arm, then turned for the SUV.
Jamison wasn’t as cocky, but he was just as tall as Dylan.
I whistled, shaking my head at him. “Fuck. That’s gotta piss D off that you’re as tall.”
A cocky smirk showed now and he ducked his head down, shrugging one shoulder up. “He’s so scared I’ll go out for football next year.”
I laughed. “Right. He’ll be a senior.”
“His big year.”
Jamison took after our mom, his hair was blonder. Dylan had Dad’s dark hair, and I was the mix. But Dylan had our dad’s extrovert attitude while Jamison was shyer. Mom again, except at my hockey games, which had me wondering…
I followed Jamison inside and asked, “What’s Mom like at your games?”
Both groaned.
Dylan rolled his eyes.
Jamison pretended to hit his own forehead. “You think she’s bad at your games?”
Dylan looked at me. “She’s worse at our games.”
Alice turned around from the front seat. “I am not. I’m the same volume, but it’s not my fault the fans are quieter at your games. They shouldn’t be. High school sports need loud supporters.”
“You’re obnoxious sometimes, Mom.” From Jamison.
Dylan added, “You’re not Killer Mama Alice at our games. She’s Serial Killer Mama Alice at our games.”
Alice turned back around, as our dad had said goodbye to the attendants and he was starting to pull forward. “I just have to tell the world how much I love you boys.”
It was then when we were pausing in line, and David turned around. “Hey, Cut! I was getting out to hug my oldest when you all piled in like we were late for the NASCAR race.”
Dylan and Jamison both groaned at the same time, leaning their heads back. “Dad. Seriously. Stop with the NASCAR references. We’ve had enough.”
Jamison said to me, “Dad met a NASCAR driver on the golf course two weeks ago, and guess what’s his favorite sport now to watch? It’s not hockey anymore.”
“It’ll always be hockey. You don’t listen to your brothers. I’m just intrigued. That Case Triven seems like a nice guy.”
“Case Triven is a professional dirt bike rider. You met his brother, Ace Triven.”
“That’s right. Case is the more famous one, right?”
Dylan couldn’t stop rolling his eyes. “They’re both famous, Dad, and that’s why you started talking to them because of Cutler.”
“That’s right. It’s like you guys were both there.”
Dylan and Jamison said at the same time, both so over it, too, “We were.”
“Right.”
I chuckled, seeing my dad wink at me through the rearview mirror.
Dad. David.
Mom. Alice.
It didn’t matter how old I was going to get. I had missed my family, and I had missed this, our tradition.
They picked me up after the game.
We would go to the same restaurant that we’d been going to for four years. We’d sit in the back room, eating and laughing for the next three hours. And even though Pine Valley wasn’t a far drive, my family opted to stay close to cut down on the time driving. We’d been going to the same hotel for the same four years. We’d all stay in the presidential penthouse suite, with two rooms attached on both sides. And even though I’d try to pay for the rooms, Alice would blackmail the front desk clerks to make sure she paid for the ensuite and all the rooms attached and not me.
In the morning, we’d have breakfast on the hotel suite’s balcony.
After breakfast, we’d lounge around and do whatever until my flight later in the day.
The team would have flown back in the morning.
My family would pack up from the hotel, give me a ride to the airport, and I’d fly back home later.
All this to spend a few extra hours with my family.
Always worth it.
It was the next morning.
Dylan and Jamison went to get coffee from the coffee place around the corner. The hotel was exclusive so they wouldn’t be hitting the coffee place in the hotel lobby. Not enough girls their age there, so yeah. They’d be gone for an hour because I’ve seen that line. It was always the same, out the door.
I was sitting on the patio with my mom.
David had gone to the gym, which Alice said was really code for the spa.
It was then when I asked, “You remember in high school when Chad came to stay with us?”
She was thumbing through a paperback, but lifted her head, frowning at me. “Yeah. Why?”
“What did they say was the reason for him coming over and staying so long?”
“Uh.” She put her book down and tilted her head up, her forehead marring. “It was because Deek needed to house his daughter for a bit. Something about her mother was going on. Why are you asking? Is everything okay
with Chad?”
I didn’t answer that question. “They ever say anything about the daughter? Any specific reason Chad had to not be at the house when she was there?”
She was chewing on the inside of her lip, staring at me. Studying me. Another dip of her eyebrows, and she answered, but she answered slowly, “Well. I think they were just being cautious. Natalie was concerned about the boys because the girl’s mother wasn’t a good influence. I’d be cautious, too, to be honest. If a kid’s coming from a bad environment, you never know what behaviors might be coming into your home.”
Right.
That made sense, except I couldn’t see Cheyenne being like that.
“What’s going on, Cut? It’s not like you to ask a question like that out of the blue.”
I shook my head. “It’s nothing. I just don’t remember hearing about Deek’s daughter, that’s all.”
“You know, I don’t remember Chad mentioning her much. He spent a lot of time at our house anyway. It might’ve just felt normal for him. Something come up with Deek’s daughter now? Now, Deek and Natalie divorced so she wouldn’t be any relation to Chad anymore, would she? Well. Wait again. There’s Hunter…”
It wasn’t sitting with me right. None of it was.
“It’s too bad that Natalie moved out there. I mean, not for Chad’s sake. He gets to see his mom and brother, but I suppose I’m talking out of order here. I always thought Hunter and Jamison would be best friends like you and Chad. Didn’t turn out that way, though.”
She yawned before standing up. “I can’t wait for those boys to get back with our coffee. I’m going to make a pot in the room. You want a cup?”
“Nah. I’m good. I’ve got my water.”
“Yes. You keep hydrated. I know those games are so hard on you players.” She moved around me, patting my shoulder as she went inside.
I pulled out my phone, pulling up the old text conversation I had with Chad.
Chad: The fuck? That chick you banged is Deek’s daughter.
Me: What?
Chad: Cheyenne, right? Did she use the right name? What alias did she say to you?
Me: She didn’t. We didn’t exchange names, but what are you talking about?