Page 4

SILAS

GAME DAY

G ame day nerves were normal but today, my heart was literally in my throat.

After knocking Langston College from the rankings, then crushing Grainger, we were ready to face off against the west coast finalists, Kallinger University, for the national win.

Kallinger was a Seattle-based college with two of the top ranked players in the overall standings.

Their forward, Matt Gross, was close to Jace’s stats, and their goalie, Evyn Gerard, was phenomenal.

Not to mention, two of their defensemen, Kai Strong and Niall Koskinen, were some of the biggest guys I’d ever played against.

Our opponents had size, speed, and scoring, plus, a rock-solid goalie. If we wanted to clinch this thing, there was no room for error.

We’d travelled to Chicago for the finals, far from our hometown crowd. Kallinger was in the same boat, so it leveled the playing field.

I’d had to arrange for someone to stay with Josiah, who was seventeen going on thirty, with an attitude to match.

My sunny brother was back but there was an added sass to him that challenged me.

Despite his surgery success, there were still issues with his health, and add in the teenage hormones…

I wasn’t fully prepared for raising a teenager, but I guess, no one is.

And I’d never been so far from home before. As I prepared to leave the house, I hesitated.

Until my brother rolled his eyes and nudged my side with his surprisingly sharp elbow.

“Stop acting suss and go already,” Jo quipped. “I can manage on my own, you know. I’m not a baby, even though you got me a sitter for the next two days.”

“It’s not a sitter, it’s your BFF,” I insisted. “And I know you can manage, but you’re still seventeen. These are the rules. Remember, if you don’t feel good, you call me?—”

“I know, I know.”

Josiah was chafing at my protectiveness.

Like any guy his age, he wanted independence.

He also wanted to go back to playing hockey, which he’d given up.

For now, that was a hard no. Much like me, Jo pushed back and stood his ground.

I knew that he wanted to be with his friends, but I held firm.

He was still dealing with a lot, coping with health challenges, medications, and appointments that most of his friends didn’t even begin to understand.

“Now stop pacing and get moving, you don’t want to be late for your bus to the airport,” Josiah added with a smile. “And I’ll be fine. I swear. River will make sure of it. Bring back lots of pictures and that freaking trophy so we can show Dad.”

His confidence—in himself, in me—had me hugging my brother tighter than I ever had before.

Reluctantly, I let him go and headed for the door.

The rest of the day was a chaotic blur, getting to the bus, the airport, the plane ride, the hotel. It was like I was living in a dream-state at warp speed.

And after a restless night in a strange hotel bed, game day finally arrived.

Next thing I knew, I was sitting in another drafty locker room, tying my skates, and listening to the sounds of my teammates joking around as we pumped ourselves up pre-game.

Looking down at my hands, I was surprised to find they were steady.

I’d had Josiah’s birthdate and initials tattooed on my right fingers, and anytime I felt myself wanting to give up, I curled my hand into a fist and remembered everything I was fighting for.

“Hey, Rufus!”

That shout came from Ethan Walker, one of our star forwards.

I’d had the word Ruthless tattooed on my chest recently, and Ethan thought Rufus was an appropriate, and somehow, hilarious, nickname for me.

I’d warned him not to call me that. It made me sound like a dog or something.

My clapback, of course, was ignored. Hockey players were weird and once they get something in their head, forget about it.

Honestly, it could’ve been worse. Like Axel and Jace, who were tagged with Hot ‘n’ Honey .

Or Maddox and Kayden, who were Salty five minutes of play went by like it was five seconds. Axel got cross-checked by Gross—no penalty called—and Jace, who always managed to eek out an opportunity, couldn’t get near Kallinger’s goalie. Gerard was well protected. So much for their defensive weak spots.

With a line change called, I took my turn on the bench and grabbed my water bottle to cool down.

“This game is fire,” Kayden admitted as he wiped his face with a towel. “Fucking hell, did you see the reaction time from Strong?”

“Yeah, their defense is on point tonight. Even Jace couldn’t get a shot on goal,” I muttered. “It’s wild.”

I didn’t need to hear Banning pacing behind me to feel his stress.

I could smell him, or rather his fancy cologne.

He was probably sweating through that tailored suit with all his angsting.

Unlike the rest of us, who smelled rank already, Banning was fresh, like a hot summer day.

No doubt that scent was probably as expensive as that fancy-ass suit he wore.

Banning suddenly leaned forward between me and Kayden, his face close to mine, and I nearly slipped off the bench.

Jesus, jumpy much?

“Watch out for Gross,” Coach warned us. “He nearly clocked Axel on the last play, and it looks like he’s champing at the bit for more. He also has a habit of using his stick as a weapon when the refs aren’t looking.”

“Right,” Kayden replied.

“Got it,” I added, keeping my eyes strictly on the opposing team, studying and analysing every move.

The period flew by even though we ended it with neither team scoring. Right before the clock ran out, Gross slammed Finn into the boards with a telltale crunch. My teammate was shaken but, thankfully, okay since he was back on his feet quickly.

We started to push ahead during the second period. Axel and Jace did their magic, deke’ing around so many players it was difficult to keep track of them. And despite Kallinger’s solid defense, they were no match for Jace’s wicked slapshot.

Halfway through the period, he slammed it home and our team went nuts.

One goal for the Cougars and one period to go.

Intermission was a much-needed time out and had us guzzling down electrolytes in between catching our breath and comparing notes. We reviewed the plays, listened to more feedback from Coach, and hit the ice at full speed again.

Shit became real in the third period.

Seven minutes in, and despite our best efforts, Gross got the drop on our defense, specifically, on me.

He ended up scoring, tying the game one-one.

This was not the position we wanted to be in, but I had to hand it to my teammates; none of them showed any outwards signs of disappointment, except for a few chosen curse words.

When confronted with my error, I had a choice. I could either let it fuck with my head or keep pushing.

As if reading my mind, Coach yelled out. “Moss, get back in there!”

So, I did.