Craig and the players return from the lockers.
I glance at Cam. His whole demeanor is…intense. He skates over to the bench like a predator, his expression angry and determined behind his facemask.
He bangs his stick on the ice like he can’t wait for the third period to begin.
As soon as it does, he’s a blur on the ice. We lose the face-off, but Cam’s in Watts’s face in a flash, stealing the puck away from him. He’s across the ice and into Caves’ territory in seconds.
And then he shoots.
He hits the puck so hard it sails through the air like a line drive.
The goalie doesn’t have a chance. The arc and accuracy of the shot is impossible to defend.
“That’s almost not fair,” Eric mutters. “Shit, he’s on another level right now.”
My father’s face is so red I can see it from here. He’s screaming obscenities at his team, so much that the referee goes over to talk to him.
Daddy stops swearing after that, but his anger lights a fire with his players, and with only two minutes left in regulation, the score is still deadlocked.
At a timeout, Craig grabs the tablet from me and starts mumbling about what to do.
“We’re missing something,” he says. “I think we should throw out the playbook for the rest of the game. Go back to what got us here.”
“What got us here is Wild,” Eric says. “He can outskate Watts. He’s the only one.”
“So let’s isolate him; put him in better position to score.” Craig points to one of my diagrams as the players crowd around us. “Change it up like this maybe?”
Cam nods. “Yeah. I like that idea. That will work.”
I shake my head. “I wrote that up to use only if we were losing badly. At this point in the game, it’s too risky. If this play fails, we’ve got no one between us and the goalie.”
“And if it works, we’re champions,” Cam says, his gaze determined as he looks at me.
“And if it doesn’t, we miss out on a chance for overtime or penalty shots.”
“Who’s to say we’ll win either of those?” he says back, leaning over the wall so closely I can see the heat in his eyes. “We need to go for the win now, Savannah.”
Craig looks between us, his expression conflicted.
Finally, he claps his hands. “I go with Wild. Let’s go for broke.”
“Cam.” I swallow. “I don’t know...”
“Trust me, Savannah.” He keeps his gaze on me like the entire team isn’t within inches of us. “Do you trust me?”
We stare each other down.
His dark eyes with the hint of gold beg me to say yes.
“Yes,” I say on an exhalation of air I’d been holding in. “Go for it.”
I can’t sit down. I can’t look away. All I can do is stand frozen and watch as the ref starts play again, and both teams jostle for the puck. For over thirty seconds, no one has control.
Finally, McLain gets the puck, and the Cannons go for the isolation. And then…it happens.
Cam breaks free, and the Caves aren’t ready for it.
Watts tries to adjust, but it’s too late.
