Page 40 of Playoff (Toronto Blaze #4)

Pinch me

Alek

Surprisingly, I didn’t get a lot of questions from my teammates about the bruise on my jaw.

Everyone knew about the animosity between the Johnson family and mine by now, and assumed that was the main issue, with JJ’s grandmother’s death the trigger.

Except for Fitch and me, no one had any idea that JJ had an additional reason to want to punch my face.

I even got some undeserved sympathy, since no one thought he was right to take it out on me. I didn’t explain.

The trainers checked me out carefully, but I was fine. I hadn’t hit my head, and my body had more than enough padding to protect it. JJ had been rushed off, and after cooling down and showering, we all hung around longer than usual on a game day skate to hear that he’d broken his fingers.

Called it.

The locker room was quiet when that news came out.

The team had lost Ducky, but that was in December and I’d been traded in to pick up the scoring slack.

Now, this close to the playoffs, and past the trade deadline?

The team couldn’t get someone else, except through call-ups from the Inferno, the farm team.

JJ was not an easy player to replace, so there was going to be a lot of pressure on whoever they chose.

Game time, things were a mess. Coach had to switch around the D assignments, and the team knew all too well what had happened last time JJ was out of the lineup. He was one of those workhorse guys who rarely sat out a game for any reason. He hadn’t missed since they lost the Cup.

Petey, however, was not out like he had been for that last game in the finals, and he was the difference. We were outshot embarrassingly, but I managed to score a goal and Petey got the shutout, so we notched a win.

There were so few games left that this was big. It kept our playoff hopes alive.

I had to face the press after the game—I’d scored the only goal, and with my bruised jaw on display everyone wanted to know why JJ had punched me. But I’d been questioned by the press about uncomfortable things before and I’d learned to deflect.

“Denny,” the first guy called out. It was strange now to hear that nickname. The team had completely switched to Alek. “We saw JJ drop you to the ice and you’ve got that bruise on your jaw. What happened?”

Without intention, I rubbed the sore spot on my face. “You should ask him.” JJ had vanished after the skate, and no one wanted to harass someone who’d just lost his grandmother. Or they couldn’t find him, which was more likely.

“Is there still bad blood between the two of you because of your parents’ Ponzi scheme and the money stolen from the Johnsons?” was the next question. Another classic.

I shrugged. “I hope not. I lost money then as well, but it’s been ten years and we both know how important each game is at this time of year.”

Oops, hadn’t mentioned before that my parents had ripped me off. That got a lot of attention. I didn’t give them any more details, but based on the questions they asked about whether grief could have affected JJ, they’d already started to write a narrative.

I was fine with that. If JJ didn’t like it, he could tell them differently.

But I was confident he didn’t want to talk about his sister to the press.

And Jess wouldn’t like— I shoved thoughts of her into the no-fly zone in my head.

I hadn’t blocked her, but I hadn’t responded to her pleas to talk.

She didn’t have to spell it out—I knew the score.

JJ would always come first. Hope the idiot appreciated her loyalty.

I was exhausted when I finally got back to the condo. A tough game, a tough session with the press, and no Jess.

Fitch brought out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “Thought this might help.”

“Yeah.” I hadn’t slept well last night, and I needed to get some hours in before we flew out on a road trip tomorrow.

My sleep wasn’t great, despite having one glass of whiskey too many.

I missed Jess. Not just the sex, though that had been next-level.

But I’d gotten used to talking to her, messaging her.

I dragged myself out of bed in the morning, grateful that Fitch had coffee ready and was taking us to the airport.

“You don’t look so hot,” he said as we were driving up the 427.

“Thanks,” I answered dryly. Not like it was a surprise—I’d seen myself in the mirror.

“JJ, Jess or both?”

“Both.” Which was true, but the ratio was heavily tilted toward Jess.

I could survive a teammate pissed at me—it wasn’t the first time.

It hit harder now because we were close on this team.

Even though I wasn’t used to it, I liked it.

But no one had gotten as close to me as Jess had.

Which was stupid on my part, because I knew better. I was easily left behind.

I sighed. That wasn’t fair to Jess. She could have avoided me once she knew who I was. Being with me made no sense but she’d kept coming back. If she’d been someone else, maybe we could have made it work.

But. A big but. The tie with her brother was stronger than anything else.

Some families were like that. Not mine obviously, but I was glad Jess had someone she could count on.

Despite the fight yesterday, I knew JJ was a good guy.

He’d be happy to see her with someone, just someone more like him, not me.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Fitch asked.

“Hell no.”

“Then let’s talk about Detroit’s D-line.” That kept us going till we reached Pearson Airport and met the rest of the team for the flight.

We lost those road games. Games we couldn’t afford to lose.

The only silver lining was that everyone else competing for the last couple of playoff spots was also screwing the pooch.

We returned to Toronto still in playoff contention, but only by the skin of our teeth.

As a team we were dragging, but there was still determination there.

These guys had made it so close to the Cup, and they were hungry.

I was pulled out for questions at the airport, but Agent Miller was brief.

“Any more letters?”

I pulled one out of my jacket. “This is the only one delivered to the condo since our last trip.”

He nodded. “The news you dropped, about having lost money yourself? It’s been getting play on certain websites. I think you’ll find fewer problems. If you’re a victim, you’re less likely to be part of the scheme.”

“People don’t run on logic. They’ll believe what they want to.”

“Some of them, yeah. But most are moving on.”

Not all of them. But I thanked him and left to join Fitch for the drive home.

Returning home also meant returning to the place I’d been with Jess. My room was filled with memories of her. Hell, the hallway and kitchen reminded me of her, and we hadn’t even had sex there. Having her come to my place was stupid, but I’d been doing a lot of that lately.

I needed another focus. I got Fitch to help me move my furniture around, changing up the look of the room and trying to banish some ghosts.

When thoughts of Jess intruded, as they often did, I shoved them aside and focused on hockey.

Fitch and I spent our free time watching tape, of the teams we were playing and of the games we’d just lost, trying to figure out the magic that would bring success.

This team was going to make the playoffs.

I’d cost them JJ and seriously harmed their chances of a Cup win this year, so I would make up for that.

I lived and breathed hockey, reviewing video and pushing my body as far as I could.

Instead of watching my goal and assist numbers, I made sure we had our best chance to win our remaining games.

My previous coaches wouldn’t have recognized me.

Jess and JJ were still in BC. I picked that up from team gossip, so there was nothing to distract me.

I didn’t hold my breath when the elevator doors opened or check for someone near the storage lockers.

But the focus paid off. We didn’t win every game, but we won enough to keep in contention.

It all came down to the last game of the season, and it was do-or-die time.

We won this, we were in the playoffs. We lost, and we might have a chance, depending on how other teams did.

In the locker room before we hit the ice for that last game, Cooper stood up.

“Most of you were here when we played Minnesota last fall and decided we were putting it all on the line for that game. Like it was our playoffs. And I’m damned proud of how well everyone has played then, and since. Ducky got us through that?—”

There was applause, and Ducky, who’d come down to cheer us on, blushed.

“Then he was injured and it looked like we were done for the season. But we got Alek, and he’s kept our dreams alive.”

This time I was the one who felt my cheeks heat up.

“The last week and a half”—since the confrontation with JJ—“Alek has worked his ass off. So tonight, let’s go out and support him. Let’s win the fucking game and show the world what this team can do. We’re going to earn our playoff spot, not sneak in while someone else is shutting the door.”

Massive cheers from the guys in the locker room, including Ducky, and even me.

The cheers faded as someone else entered the locker room. JJ stood just inside, like he wasn’t sure he deserved to be here. Ducky pulled him in, hugging him and offering his condolences.

I dropped on the bench in front of my locker, my breathing tight. Was Jess back as well? No, I had to push those thoughts aside. I was here to play. To win.

“Just came to wish you all luck,” JJ said. “And to apologize for leaving you short a guy. And Alek—” I looked up, everyone watching us. “I’m sorry. I was completely out of line.”

I blinked, then nodded. “No problem. I get it.”

“Drinks at the Top Shelf after are on me,” JJ said, and then left the room.

“Fuck yeah!” Oppy said.

Everyone laughed. The mood in the room was upbeat as we filed out to play.