Page 100 of Pucked Together

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Page 100 of Pucked Together

The air is thick with emotion, and I feel the tears welling up in my eyes at the love these two brothers share and the shit they went through and have overcome. And I have so much respect for them.

"So, what happened with your stepdad?"

"Dumbass burned his hand trying to put out the fire and pressed charges,” Ryker says. “He worked with his hands, so he ended up collecting insurance and disability. He has our mom trapped like a prisoner in her own home. He's convinced her that she'll never be able to make anything of herself. We heard him do it for years.” Ryker shakes his head at the memories. “I’ve tried to convince her to leave. I told her I would buy her a house. What good is this money I have if—” he waved his hand overhead and clamped his lips together.

"I—I'm so sorry. That's horrible. I don't know what's worse. Losing both your parents or losing one and knowing you still have one that you'll never be able to see."

The tears slip onto my cheeks, and Ryker looks over at me, taking my chin in his hand and swiping his thumb over my cheek softly.

"Well, we're hoping to change that," Rowan says, ripping his eyes away from the tender moment taking place across from him. "We're going to nail the bastard. And we're going to get her out of that hellhole."

I turn to Ryker, whose half-smile sends my heart into overdrive. He cares for his people. In the same way he fights for his team on the ice, he fights for the people he loves. And my heart swells for this man even more.

"Eat, baby," he motions to the cooling plate of food in front of me. I pick up the fork and shovel some into my mouth.

"So," I say between bites, "how are we going to do this?"

Chapter 31

Ryker

The announcer's voice comes on over the loudspeaker. "And tonight's starting goalie is back after an 8-game suspension. Houston's very own "Bear in the Net" Ry-y-kerrrr Ba-lin-gerrrr!"

The cheers from the crowd erupt all around me as I skate over to my place at the net.

It's been weeks since I've played. And with Izzy and Trevor finally clearing the air. It feels like we can too. And it helps that I didn't break his nose like I had feared. He's one of my D-men, after all. I can't play this game without him.

I can already hear the things the sports commentators must be saying to the audience watching at home. Keelan was amongst them, still recovering from his broken leg. He'll be out for the rest of the season.

Sincaid skates up to his position near the red dot. He nods at me, a sign that he's got my back. And I return it with a nod of my own.

The rest of the boys take their positions, and right before the puck drops, I look over to the area where Izzy is already snapping photos. She must see me because she lifts a hand over her camera and waves. Then she turns and shows me her jersey.

My jersey. The number 33 is prominently displayed on her back, and my name is scrawled across the top.

She turns and the light in her eyes distracts me for a split second before I see the shuffle at center ice.

We don't win.

Even with the crazy amount of saves and shots on goal from the Heatwave. We still lose 2-1. But we fight for every second, our team coming together like I haven't seen them do in so long. I get the feeling that this is the beginning of something good for us.

The plane crash. The injuries. The fights amongst ourselves. In a really weird and unexpected way, it's brought us even closer together.

The opposing team is taking time to salute their goalie for the win behind me. I feel a heavy hand on my back as I make my way off the ice.

I turn to see Zane O'Connor.

“Welcome back, Balsy,” his grin is wide behind his mask.

Zane lived in my condo. We’d see each other all the time. Sometimes even riding the elevator together in silence after defeats like this.

“You ever coming back to the building, or are you a whipped man living in suburbia now?”

We make our way down the hall toward the Heatwave locker room. I can already hear the loud chatter of our teammates echoing down the hall.

“You know, Z. I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t think a penthouse is the best place for a stroller and crib.”

‘I wouldn’t think so,” he agrees. “Wow, daddy Balsy. I wonder how grouchy your kid’s gonna be.”




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