So, instead I say, “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“That’s sweet, Hunt.”
“And, Liam heard some news.”
“Oh?” Her voice rises. “You mean about the case?”
“Yep. The guy confessed to the murder of our father.”
She exhales both a breath and a stricken sound at the same time. “Oh, Hunt. Honey, I’m so sorry I can’t be there with you.”
“Me, too. But I’ll be home tomorrow night late.”
“Did you get details?” she asks in a nervous tone. “I’m assuming you did?”
“We did. They’re pretty…brutal.”
“I’m here for you,” she says softly. “If you want to talk after the game tonight, no matter the hour, call me.”
“I will. Will you be watching the game?”
“Of course.”
“Well, Liam and I are gonna put on a show, darling. So get ready.”
“I’ll be glued to the television set,” she promises. “Be safe. Kick some ass.”
* * *
Playing a hockey game as a tribute to your late father brings up all sorts of emotions.
Anger, yes, because of the way he died.
But I didn’t expect to feel the grief, too.
The air in the arena is cool as usual, and I relish the cold-as-ice feel tonight because that’s what I’m feeling in my veins. Cold and lethal.
I want to wash that fucker’s murderous face out of my head for good.
Liam and I line up on opposite sides of the ice like always. But this time, when he leans forward, he turns his head briefly. I catch his eye, and he tips his chin in the direction of Denver’s goal.
I nod back at him.
And then, it’s on.
As soon as the ref drops the puck, Liam fights for it. He has control within seconds, and he slaps the puck over to me.
I’m in the zone as I skate past one defender and then keep the puck away from another. I back up, eye Liam skating down the middle, and as soon as he has a finger-width of space, I zip the puck over to him.
I don’t even wait to see what he’s going to do.
It’s like I know.
I shift further left, dodging the defenseman in my path, and as Liam makes it look like he’s going to shoot, instead, he passes it back to me.
I don’t bother to take possession of the puck before firing my stick through it. The goalie’s out of position, and the puck shoots by him and over the goal line.
I raise my stick to the heavens.
