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I raise my fist in victory. Adrenaline pumps through my blood. My heart pounds in my chest with such force, I’m sure it’s going to break through my ribcage. I point my finger at Caspian, who raises his stick over his head in response. A huge grin wreathes his features. Jagger throws his head back and roars. The crowd’s decibels rise, mirroring him. Enzo pounds on the glass separating him from the crowds. Finn extends his arms, stick still clutched in one hand, and skates to the center of the ice. From the corner of my eye, I spot those on the bench spilling onto the ice. Their shouts of exuberance rise into the air. They glide toward me. Caspian, Jagger, Enzo and Finn in the lead.
Like a swarm of locusts, they descend upon us. The tension that’s gripped me for months begins to fade away. It’s replaced by relief, a burst of happiness, a sense that I’ve vindicated myself. I allow myself a grin, then grunt when Finn jumps on me. I hit the ice. Enzo, Jagger, and Caspian swarm over me, followed by the rest. The men are laughing, crying, yelling, a mixture of noises that drowns out my groans as their weights press in on me, a second, another, then the pressure is lifts. I draw in a deep breath as the guys spill off me and onto the ice, where they lay panting.
"You okay, buddy?" Edward holds out his arm. I grab it, and he hauls me to my feet. I take in the three-piece suit he’s wearing, combined with the skates on his feet, and the helmet he’s pulled on. He resembles a medieval knight.
"Thanks." I glance up toward the stands, scan the space where she normally would be on the front row behind the plexiglass. When I can’t see her, I look toward the balcony outside the VIP rooms, but there’s no one there who resembles my Goldie.
"She’s leaving."
"What?" I continue to scan the bleachers, but I can’t find her.
"Gio. She quit her role. She said she’s returning to L.A." He’s close enough that I hear him over the roar of the crowds and our team.
"What?" I swing my head in his direction. See the finality in his expression through the cage. "She can’t do that." I brush past him. Jagger steps forward; I skate around him. Enzo grabs my shoulder, but I shake him off. Finn plants his body in my path, and I shove him aside.
"Not now." I race toward the exit, but he keeps pace.
"Captain of the winning team for one minute, and already, you’ve forgotten your teammates and—" He must glimpse something on my face for he sobers. "Shit. What’s wrong?"
I shake my head, reach the exit doors and step off the ice.
"Bro, tell me. Whatever it is, I can help you."
"In this, you can’t." I walk up the pathway, cursing the skate boots which impede my progress.
"Is it Gio? If so, I overheard her tell Edward she’s taking the night flight to L.A., but she hasn’t left the arena yet."
"How do you know?" I turn on him. "You keeping tabs on my wife, asshole?" I grab the front of his jersey and haul him to his toes.
"Relax, Gio’s the sister I never had." His expression reveals he noticed I called her ‘wife,’ but he doesn’t comment on it. "She realized I knew about her plans and begged me not to tell you."
"But you did anyway?" I ask slowly.
"Of course I did. I also negotiated with her. I told her I wouldn’t breathe a word to you during the game, provided she came to watch it."
"You broke your word to her?" I scowl.
"The game is over." He raises a shoulder. "I reckon, she’s headed toward the car that was called to take her to the airport. A car which is, conveniently, 'stuck in traffic' and not yet here." He winks. "So, if you hurry, you might—"
Before the words are out of his mouth, I rush up the aisle. I almost trip in my haste—goddam skates—when Knight appears. He steps past the security folk and drops my trainers on the ground. "Here."
I throw him my stick and tear off my skates. Then pause, long enough to unhook my pads, my gloves, my helmet and the protective gear I’m wearing. The laces of the sports shoes are already knotted, so all I have to do is stuff my feet into them. Then I’m off, up the players tunnel, dodging fans who’ve evaded security and are blocking my path. Right, then left, then right again. I pause then rush up the stairs. I reach the VIP room, dash in and grab Tiny’s leash. I need all the help I can get, and that woman loves this mutt. Perhaps, it’ll soften her heart and make her listen to what I have to say?
Mira jumps up from the seat next to Tiny. “Gio, she’s—”
“I know.”
“You need to go to her.”
Without replying, I turn and dash for the door, past the others in the room who gape at me. Tiny keeps pace as I take the steps two at a time, reach the first floor, run up the hallway, and pass the men milling around in the reception arena.
"Hey, isn’t that Rick Mitchell?"
"It is Rick Mitchell."
"Rick!"
Their excited voices follow me. I speed up, shoulder open the doors to the arena, then race down the steps. I briefly notice the group of girls who’re watching me, open-mouthed. To my right, a family with a teenaged boy and girl is walking away. A group of men hail me. "Hey, Rick, great win."
