AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We talk about hockey and reminisce about the good old days when I was The Flamethrower, burning down the house. I share my best stories and have the father and son laughing their heads off. We have a great time.
I only leave because I have a pre-game meeting I have to get to.
“You keep fighting,” I say as I clasp my new friend Chris’ hand. “You stay tough for your boy and fight through this. I’m going to have front-row tickets ready for you guys when you get out of here, okay?”
He nods. “Thank you, Harris. I needed this.”
I give him a careful hug and then Arthur walks me out of the hospital.
“Thank you so much,” he says. “You have no idea how much that meant to us.”
I shake his hand and then pull him in for a hug.
“You be strong too, Arthur. Your dad needs you more than ever.”
“You got it, Mr. Sutton. I will.”
A heaviness hits my core as I walk to my truck through the rain. What a kid. What a father-son relationship those too have. It was beautiful to see.
I climb into my truck and sigh, wishing I had something like that.
Someone who would look at me like that.
“Come on,” I whisper harshly to myself as my eyes get hot. “It’s game time soon. Get ready.”
I start the engine and the radio flicks on.
“Harris Sutton better be playing at a high level for a change tonight or the Hyenas will be forced to part ways with the?—”
I slam the radio off and hit the gas.
CHAPTER TWO
Harris
I’m racing up the rink with the puck when Lance Kingston comes out of nowhere and slams me into the boards so hard the glass shakes. I fly off my feet and land hard on the ground. The crowd lets out a loud collective ‘Oooh!’
The fucker scoops the loose puck with his stick and passes it to a teammate.
“You gotta be faster than that, old man,” Kingston says with a grin before skating away to rejoin the action.
I wince and groan as I push myself up. My knees are throbbing. My elbow is on fire. I grit my teeth and force myself to catch up to them.
The game isn’t going well. It’s near the end of the second period and we’re losing four to one. I got three passes stolen and I took a shot on the net, but I missed by a mile. My burning elbow is not helping.
Our star player, Sebastian Kemp, steals the puck in our zone, turns, and makes a breakaway for the opposite net. Everyone follows, struggling to catch up to The Sniper.
Sebastian makes it look easy. He dekes one way, making the goalie shift out of position, and then snaps the puck back and shoots it in the opposite direction. It flies toward the open corner, but the goalie is one of the best in the league and he gets his stick up just in time. It bounces off and Nylander from the other team gets the rebound by the boards. Tucker slams into Nylander so hard the crowd winces.
I skate over to get the loose puck. I grab it and I’m about to pass it to Austin when Kingston comes out of nowhere and steals it.
“Fuck,” I grunt as he disappears, flying toward our net in a breakaway. I’m playing defense and he’s caught me out of position. I’m struggling to catch up, but he’s too fast. It’s just our goalie Nolan Barlowe left.
Kingston feints left, feints right, and then puts it in between Barlowe’s legs.
The crowd quiets as the Nighthawks celebrate on the ice.
My heart is pounding with anger as I skate back to our bench. I reach over the boards and grab my water bottle, expecting to stay on the ice.
