“Went through all that trouble to sign the cowboy for pennies, and turns out he’s shit at his job,” Arlo chirped, grinning widely at Dax Merlin, who was their freshly traded defenceman.
Dax skated over, and the officials circled just in case there was a fight, but August placed himself between the two players before anything could happen.
“What a fucking punk,” Dax growled behind him.
August didn’t disagree, but he was used to Arlo’s taunts, and Dax apparently wasn’t.
“Ignore him, or you’ll get dragged in,” August said as the whistle blew, herding them back to center ice.
“What’s the A on your sweater stand for, Bradshaw?” Arlo shot at Logan, who was already scowling. “Is itAbsolutely Mid Player?”
“Killinger, shut your mouth,” said the ref, and Arlo’s smile brightened.
“We can’t all be star players, Killinger,” Logan grumbled. “I know you’re mad because you’ll never be as good as your cousin, but don’t take it out on me.”
Dax’s barking laughter was cut off by the puck hitting the ice, and then it was on again. He’d had such a short shift that August, Niko and Logan stayed out to set up a solid play for the next line before switching to the bench.
August smiled at Quinn’s worried face to let him know he was okay, and then sat and grabbed his water bottle.
Hewasokay, even if it felt unnatural to play without Eren. The team dynamic had shifted now that Niko was the captain, but it wasn’t a bad shift—just different. To say August had been shocked during the pre-game meeting when Fedorov announced Niko’s new position was an understatement, but it was the right choice.
Niko was new to the team, but he had made a huge impact in his short time as a Bigfoot. The kid pulled off moves that stunned onlookers and opponents alike, and he wasn’t on the same level as Jett Fraser/Killinger yet, but he was nineteen.
He wasnineteenand the captain of the Vancouver Bigfoots.
Most guys would be crushed under the weight of that huge responsibility, especially since they were at the top of their division and undoubtedly heading to the playoffs, but Niko thrived on it.
Eren had left big skates to fill. He was a leader, and he had a hockey brain that could create quick strategies on the fly, but August believed in Niko.
“It’s so fun playing with you guys,” Dax said, leaning over Logan so he could catch Niko and August’s attention. “I fucked up because I forgot how fast Leroux is, but I won’t let it happen again.”
Logan shoved him down onto the bench and slapped the back of his helmet. “It’s all good, magic man. Just cling tight to the crease when Leroux goes to the left of it, and you’ll be able to block him.”
Niko tore his eyes away from the game, even though one of their forwards on the second line, Neil Daniels, was gunning for the Montreal net with the puck.
“We lost our captain for the season, and we got August back. It’s going to take us more than one practice game to find our chemistry, so don’t shut down when you fuck up. Fight to get the puck, make smart passes, and if you see Logan or me pushing into the Montreal zone with open space in front of us, give us the puck. We’ll put it into the net.”
August was playing center tonight because Niko and Logan were their best wingers, and August was versatile. Their second line center, Aiden Wesley, was a skilled player, but he couldn’t read Niko like August and Eren could.
It was fair to say that management would have to trade for a new center to help fill the gap Callahan had left, but for now, August was the man for the job.
The goal light flared, and the horn sounded when Neil slapped the puck into the net. All the guys on the bench jumped to their feet, sticks thumping the wall in celebration, and hands went up for fist bumps when Neil zipped past them with a, “Fuck yeah, boys!”
The lines switched, and August turned and blew Quinn a kiss before he hit the ice, and the few fans who saw the exchange cheered loud enough for him to hear over the rest of the noise.
August grinned and flexed his hand, just so he could feel the silk tightening around his forearm; a reminder that Quinn was with him.
“Hey, Bradshaw,” Arlo said as they returned to center ice. “Wanna have a tussle and see if it will make your girl hot enough that she’ll put the divorce papers away for another time?”
August groaned once the puck hit the ice and the gloves came off. He stood back and bumped shoulders with Niko while the crowd went berserk in the stands. Logan was a good fighter, but Arlo was young, strong, and having a blast—unlike Logan, who was so pissed off that he barely landed a hit before Arlo took him to the ice.
August tapped his stick on the ground, shaking his head as Dax came out and Logan went to the bin to serve his five minutes. The energy in the building had shifted, and even though he was exasperated by Arlo’s behaviour, August felt fired up.
The moment the puck hit the ice, August caught the awkward pass and drove toward the Montreal zone. He sent it to Niko once there was an opening, who made a back pass to Dax when the defence crowded him against the boards.
They were pushed back to the neutral zone, but August stopped Étienne at the redline and turned the play around again, laughing when the captain spewed a series of French curses at him.
He had to pass the puck to the defence so he could push closer to the net, and while Niko and the other guys on the ice played a game of keep away, August pushed into his favourite spot—a sharp angle in line with the Montreal net.
