“Mikael is getting frustrated,” Charlotte says, and Anders shakes his head.
“Our defense is letting too much slip through. The new guy doesn’t stand a fucking chance unless they tighten up.”
I watch Owen with all my attention. He’s quick and surprisingly not afraid to get into the mix. I’ve seen him push multiple players and even trip one “accidentally”.
Suddenly, there's a breakaway from a Penguins player, and it’s two versus one, and they outmatch our defense. Owen barely has time to react and is too late. The puck hits the net, and the fans groan in unison.
I sip my beer. I’ve had far too many, and I’m getting concerned how much alcohol has factored into my days off. There’s a girl wearing a Martel jersey in front of me who is starting to get obnoxious.
“Fuck, the new goalie sucks,” she says on a giggle, turning to the guy on her left. He doesn’t comment, and she doubles down on her statement. “They should really look at getting an Alpha for their goalie. He’s too small.”
I don’t know if it’s the beer or my need to defend Owen as I tap the guy’s shoulder. “Maybe you should find a different date instead.”
“Excuse you?” the woman says, glaring back at me. “No one was talking to you.”
“No, but your loud and obnoxious voice carries, and since we all have to listen to you, I thought I’d put my two cents in. The goalie does not suck.”
“We’re down two nothing, he sucks.”
“Not as much dick as you probably had to suck to get him to bring you to this game. He doesn’t even seem interested.” It’s a low blow, and even I know that. But the guy she’s with doesn’t even step in.
“Piper,” Charlotte says quietly and tugs on my shirt.
“Listen to your fat friend, and fuck off.”
“Oh hell no.” I know it’s not very doctorly of me, but I’m up and jumping over the seat and getting in her face. I put a finger against her chest. “You got something to say, bitch?”
The woman's eyes are wide, and she does the dumbest thing possible. She pushes me. I’ve got about six inches on her and more muscle. So when I push her back, she bumps into the guy next to her, who accidentally spills his beer all over her.
To my absolute horror, I look up at the screen and see that the camera is zoomed in on our altercation. No sooner is a security officer dragging me along to the drunk tank.
“I’ll have one of the guys fix this!” Charlotte shouts from her seat, looking both mortified and like she’s trying to hold back a laugh at the same time.
“Let’s go, drunky,” the security guard says, gripping me by the arm and leading me up the stairs and down to level 1. “Saw you were with Larsen. I’ll do my best to not get you banned from the stadium, so what set you off anyway?”
“She said our goalie sucked and that my pregnant friend was fat.”
The officer shrugs his shoulders and opens the gate to the tank. It’s two long silver benches and sadly no TV to watch the game either. I have a companion, but he’s sleeping in the corner. I find the most hygienic spot and sit down. I’m glad I left my stuff with Charlotte at least and wonder if she and Anders will be able to bust me out. It feels like my own personal sin bin.
I’m not sure what came over me. I’m embarrassed, but there's also a part of me that wants to go back and punch that bitch in her mouth.
Sitting in this stinky shell of a space has me realizing that I need to get my shit together. Charlotte is right; once I figure out the next step with my job, everything else will follow. I’ve got to grow a spine, deal with my dad, stop drinking on my days off, and deal with my shit.
It feels like I’ve been here for hours when I hear the security guard speaking to someone. “Of course, Mr. Bandnin, we’ll make sure there's no record of any of this. Thank you so much for the signed jerseys. My kids are going to freak out.”
“Thanks, Frank.” Even if the guard hadn’t said his last name, I would have recognized his voice. The guard opens the gate and gives me a curt smile.
“You’re one lucky lady. Most people get a lifetime ban.”
I give him a fake smile, and Alexi hands me my things.Fucking Charlotte.
Due to Alexi’s meddling, I don’t have anything to sign, and we’re able to leave the stadium right away.
“I’m driving you home.” I nod my head, feeling shame that he had to use his position to get me out of trouble. We’re walking down a hallway I’ve never been in before, and the light hits him the right way, so I can really appreciate him. He’s in a dark blue suit, and his dark hair is pushed back. No wonder why it felt so long, he must have done press and everything before coming to get me.
“I’m sorry you had to do all this.”
“What did she say that set you off?” he asks, and my face heats. He saw the whole thing on screen.
