“Not hard enough,” Mac mutters, and I reach out to pat him on the shoulder.
“You spent more time in the penalty box than on the ice,” I remind him with a grin. “No pouting tonight. We made it into the second round of the playoffs, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Now, we rest for a bit before we get back at it.”
For me, that downtime will take place in Montana, with my dad and the animals, breathing in fresh air and listening to nothing but quiet. I need that.
But first, we’re going on a trip as a team. The reservations, the plane,everythinghas been on standby to whisk us away whenever we’refinished with the season. Whether that was tonight or after the Stanley Cup, we’re going somewhere as a team.
Somewhere fucking warm.
With sand, sun, and hopefully plenty of scantily clad women. I haven’t gotten laid in far too fucking long.
“But first, Bora-Bora!” Spencer calls out, and I grin at him.
“Damn right. We leave first thing, so don’t get so drunk tonight that you pass out and miss the flight. We won’t wait for your stupid ass.”
Against a backdrop of snickers and smiles, I walk over to my locker and start to strip down to hit the shower. Now that the adrenaline from the game is over, my knees ache. My back is stiff.
I feel eighty.
As I joke with the guys—always keeping my hockey-star mask on—I get showered and then pull on my suit and tie.
The guys give me shit for always dressing up for game day, but it’s habit. It’s my image. Ray—or Dad, as I’ve called him since I was sixteen—always says that you need to show the world who you are.
I’m not a slob. I’m a professional, elite athlete, and I fucking look like it.
Reaching for my phone, I frown when the screen lights up and I see that I’ve missed ten calls and a shit ton of texts during the game.
Fuck.
Still frowning, I see the calls were from Gideon. Most of the texts, too, except for a couple from Willow. They started coming in when we were still warming up for the game, almost four hours ago.
Willow:I know you’re playing but you need to call me ASAP.
Willow:Seriously, I’m so sorry, but we need you.
Gideon:I’m getting on a flight home now. Call me, bro.
My stomach is in knots, dread sitting heavy on my chest, as I immediately dial Gideon’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail.
He’s in the air. The flight from Washington, DC, to Montana is a long one, but he should be almost there by now.
I dial Willow’s number, and she picks up right away.
“Ry!” I hear the tears in her voice, and I have to sit down. My chest aches. My breaths are already coming fast.Jesus, what is going on at home?“Oh, Ry, I’m so sorry. I know you’re playing—”
“I’m never too busy for you, and you know it, Wills. What’s wrong? Breathe for me, and tell me what’s going on.”
She pauses, and I hear her take a long breath.
“It’s Ray.”No.Goddamn it. “It’s not good, Ryker.”
“Is he still alive?”
“For now, but you need to get here as soon as you can.”
“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in three hours.”
“Come straight to the hospital, okay? Gideon will be here by then, and I’ll tell you everything when you get here.”
