Page 10

Ten

RIZZO

I don’t know if I’m happy that Nat turned me down, annoyed that she turned me down, or horrified that I’d even asked her out at all. A combination of all three, I guess. I try to push thoughts of Nat and dating and everything else out of my head and focus on the upcoming game. This one is always a rough one. Once upon a time, a baby-faced Rizzo and Shep both got recruited by the Kodiaks out of college—and then proceeded to both leave them for the Vipers at the same time a few years later. Some of the guys decided to take it personally and ever since then have made a point to make this game as violent and bloody as possible. It’s stupid really, but hockey players—all athletes actually—are nothing if not dramatic.

My phone buzzes and I pull it out, hoping to see a text from Nat, but smile all the same when I see it’s from my mom. I open up the message and snort.

Mom: Good luck tonight! Go Vipers!

lol thanks, ma. Love you.

Mom: Light the lamp. Be safe. Love you.

“You ready?” Shep asks, punching me in the shoulder. I toss my phone in my locker and turn to face him.

“Hell yeah. I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.”

He grins. “Does that have anything to do with you leaving the bar last night with Nat?”

“For the last time, nothing happened.” Nothing much, anyway. Apparently Mac had spilled the beans that Nat and I were the last to leave the bar and was conjecturing her little southern heart out. “I drove her home. She went inside. I went to my place and passed out—alone. End of story.” He gives me a skeptical look, but I’m saved from further conversation by coach calling for our attention. He gives us our pre-game speech and then I put in my ear buds, cranking my Game Day Playlist and getting in the zone.

It’s fucking go time.

The game is more brutal than usual, emotions running extra high for some reason. Fights break out every few minutes, the penalty box pretty much stays occupied, and I’ve already scattered Figgy’s chicklets across the fucking ice. Well worth the time in the box for that one—Martin Figueroa was a prick a decade ago and he’s an even bigger one now, getting in cheap shots and talking so much trash it’s insane, and not just the typical stuff. Real vile, uncool shit. Not to mention there are rumors he doesn’t like to take no for an answer from women, so honestly he deserves a lot worse than having his teeth knocked out.

It's back and forth all night, blueline to blueline and back again. Shep is doing damn work in the net to keep us up by four, but the game is intense as hell. Another fight breaks out and while they get it broken up, I skate by the glass where Nat, Mac, and Bobby are sitting. I smile at Nat and I swear she bites her fucking lip as she watches me go by. And now my cock is trying to join the game. Damn this woman…

I shake myself, focusing back on the game. If we can just hold them a bit longer, we’ll be golden.

“Ah fuck!” I yell as a couple of Kodiaks make a break towards our goal. Jules and Roman are hot on their heels though, skating like bats out of hell, and I’m not far behind. Shep is ready, waiting with that intense, almost scary focus he has. He’s like a big cat or a snake waiting to pounce on their prey, sitting so silent and still until the last possible second, and then it’s all over.

And then someone goes down, causing a massive five-guy dog pile that careens towards Shep at top speed. I tense as they get closer, knowing it’s going to be one hell of a collision. They slam into Shep and there’s a tangle of bodies shoving the goal backwards across the ice. I wince at the hit, knowing that it has to hurt…but then I see a helmet fly across the ice and my heart clenches, sending spikes of fear through me.

It’s Shep’s helmet…and he’s not moving.

No. No, no, no .

I skate faster than I’ve ever skated in my life, reaching him in a heartbeat and sliding on my knees on the ice, shoving a Kodiak violently to the side, not giving a shit if he’s hurt too, which is probably fucked up of me but I don’t care. The refs are trying to get us all back, telling us to give everyone breathing room, but fuck them.

“Shep? Shep!? Fuck, come on, Con, answer me.” Nothing. He’s out cold and there’s a dark streak on the ice beneath him that I know is blood. My stomach lurches. Hockey is a brutal sport. Injuries are common and blood is par for the course, but seeing your best friend in the world down like this is different. I’ve seen guys never walk away from hits like this. I have the wherewithal not to touch or shake him, but I move my hands restlessly over him, uselessly trying to figure out something to do to help. “Connor, God damn it, you can’t do this to us. Come on …”

Our athletic trainers finally make their way over and this time I let them force me back. Jules helps me up and I see that he has a nasty cut across his brow, blood pouring down his face.

“You need to get that looked at,” I tell him, though the words sound like they’re coming from someone else, far, far away. I shift my gaze back to Shep. I don’t want to leave his side but I know I can’t help him. But what I can do?

Beat the absolute shit out of Figgy.

The bastard was one of the ones in the dog pile and all I can see is red. If he did this on purpose…

I throw my gloves off and skate at him like a freight train, not slowing even a little before plowing into him and clocking him right in the jaw. My momentum propels us a few feet until he hits the glass. He manages to stay mostly upright, so I grip the front of his jersey and pull him back towards me, rearing back to give him another. This one catches him right in the eye and is going to leave a nice shiner. I get in one more shot before he’s able to push me away, and it splits his skin on his cheek, maybe even cracks the bone. I grin at the sight of his blood, probably looking maniacal as fuck, but I don’t care. Several other sets of hands finally pull me off of him completely, and whistles blow all over the place, but I don’t give a flying fuck.

“What the?—"

“Tell me you didn’t fucking do it, you sorry sack of shit!!” I scream around Nowski as he tries to keep me from jumping at Figgy again and ripping his throat out. “Tell me it wasn’t a cheap shot. I swear to fucking God, Figgy, I’ll end you right here on the ice if you did this on purpose!!” Part of me knows I’m not being entirely rational right now, but I can’t seem to listen to that part. I can only listen to the part that’s roaring in rage to cover up the fear and panic. If I listen to those, I’ll break down. No, the rage is much better.

“I didn’t!! Fuck, Rizz, I wouldn’t! I swear to God.” He wipes blood from his lip and glares at me, but there’s a hint of sympathy and worry in his eyes. “Jesus, I’m an asshole, but I wouldn’t do that and you fucking know it.”

“Rizzo, come on, man,” Roman says from beside me, tugging at my arm to pull me back. Nowski remains in place between me and Figgy in case I try again I guess. I glare at Figgy for one more long second but finally throw up my hands and turn away. But what I see makes my whole body go numb. The medics are on the ice now and they’re getting Shep strapped to a spine board. My heart roars loudly in my ears, my stomach feeling cold and hollow. He still isn’t fucking moving. He could be paralyzed or fucking dead for all I know?—

Then I remember Hattie. I whip around to where they’re sitting and our eyes catch for half a heartbeat. Hers are wide and filled with absolute terror, and if I didn’t know that she was in love with him before this moment, I sure as hell would know it now. That look…I shudder. I hope I never see that look again in my life.

And then she’s gone, turning and sprinting up the stadium steps like a bat out of hell. I see Bobby but not Nat. Where is she? I suddenly need my eyes on her. To know she’s ok or to calm me down or who the fuck knows why, but all I want in this moment is to see her. When I figure out that staring at the empty seat next to Bobby isn’t going to make her magically appear, I cut my eyes back to Shep, still lifeless but now loaded up on the spine board and being carried off the ice. My heart feels like it’s being squeezed by a giant fist and I know I need to fucking breathe but my brain and body don’t seem to be communicating.

“Rizz. Hey, Rizzo, look at me, man.” I force my gaze away from where they’re hurrying down the tunnel that leads to the training and locker rooms on the ground floor, and find Howey staring at me. He puts a gloved hand on my chest and holds my gaze. “Rizzo, you gotta breathe, man, you’re gonna pass out.” I blink and nod, knowing he’s right. I close my eyes and force my body to obey. It feels like it takes hours, but finally that fist around my heart loosens its grip enough that I can get some air into my lungs.

“He’ll be alright. He’s Shep, ya know?” Howey says, trying to smile but I can see the worry beneath it. “He’s like fucking Superman. Nothing can keep him down for long.”

I try to laugh but barely manage a grimace-like smile. Eventually everything settles back down and the game resumes. I do more time in the box for my attack on Figgy, and though I know we have to keep playing, it feels so wrong to be up here while Shep is…I swallow hard, forcing the thought away as I skirt around a couple of Kodiaks and manage to score another goal. We’ve still got the lead and though he’s no Shep, Rosie is a hell of a goalie. We’ll pull this out, I know it.

I look over again and still no Nat. No Bobby now, either. Maybe they’re both comforting Mac somewhere. I skate back to the bench during a time out and find Jules back from getting his brow patched up.

“He’s awake,” he says quickly, smiling, and I swear I take the first full breath I have since it happened. It feels like hours ago, but I know it’s only been a few minutes, really. “Awake and talking. They’re taking him to the hospital to get checked out, of course, but he was alert and everything. Talked to Mac.”

“She ok?”

He shakes his head. “She was shaken up real bad, man. I think she’s alright now, but she almost passed out I think. Kasey got her squared away, but yeah, she took it hard.” I nod in understanding and thank him for the update.

The time-out ends and now that I know Shep is ok—well, alive anyway—I’m ready to finish this.

“Let’s fucking go,” I tell Jules and we fist bump as he climbs over the wall and heads back towards the center line with me.