Ward needed to move. He craved some fresh air. Needed to be out and among the living. Hell, grabbing a beer wasn’t a bad idea, either. Having run through a list of watering joints in his head, he decided on Horn’s Hook Tavern nearby. It was a chill and relaxed spot and no one there was likely to pay much attention to him or give him any grief.
Pulling open the front door, he walked into the dimly lit setting and took a seat at the bar. He immediately recognized the bartender and nodded his head in greeting. A moment later, once Joe was done pulling a beer for another customer, he approached.
‘Hey, man, long time,’ Joe greeted, offering him a fist bump. ‘The usual? How’s the knee?’
Ward nodded. ‘Thanks, Joe. Better. And yeah. Tall one.’
As he poured he looked over and smiled. ‘Good thing you didn’t relapse after that stunt with the golfer. Man, that was great. Always thought he was an asshole.’ He placed the beer in front of Ward and smacked the counter. ‘So, what’s the deal? What the hell happened? Just been off the ice for too long and needed to kick some ass?’
The corner of Ward’s mouth turned up. ‘Something like that,’ he replied with some satisfaction.
‘Your girl, though …’ Joe whistled his appreciation. ‘Where’d you find her? Smokin’. And damn, a fighter too. Nice catch.’
Ward sighed and decided he didn’t need to perpetuate his so-called relationship with Shelley any more than he had already.
‘She’s not “my girl”. My trainer actually. She was doing me a favour that night, that’s all,’ he told Joe. ‘PR shit.’
The barman barked a laugh. ‘Nice! So, was going tag team on Kendrick’s ass part of your PR strategy then, too? That sucker punch; who did he honestly think he was messing with? Dude dumb enough to screw with you deserved a beat down.’
Ward took a sip of his beer and pushed his ballcap back a bit on his head, getting comfortable. ‘Definitelynotpart of the strategy. And as much as I agree with you, unfortunately no one else seems to.’ Quickly, he gave a brief overview of the truth – that his hockey career was likely in a nose dive and he was being viewed as human kryptonite with Panthers’ management and across the league. ‘I’m a “loose cannon” apparently,’ he snorted.
The barman shook his head in response. ‘Man, that’s no good – really, that sucks. I mean, that’d be the day that I let someone sucker punch me and they get away with it.’ He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at Ward thoughtfully. ‘So why’d Kendrick do it then? The first punch I mean? Everyone has been wondering what started it all.’
Ward considered the bartender and then shrugged, figuring it couldn’t hurt to tell a watered-down version of the truth.
‘I saw him grabbing a friend of mine. Being rough. I didn’t like it and warned him off. That’s just not how you treat a woman, you know?’
‘Hell, no,’ Joe agreed. ‘I would never let someone lay hands on any woman – doesn’t matter if it was my girl, my mom, my sister, my great aunt, my pain-in-the-you-know-where neighbour Barb, or a perfect stranger. If they did, they’d get what’s coming to them too.’
Ward smiled, appreciative that Joe got it. ‘Yeah, not everyone sees it like that.’
‘And now you’re beingcancelled,I guess,’ the barman said, shaking his head bitterly. It was a statement, not a question. ‘Even though the other guy’s the asshole.’
Sipping again, Ward muttered, ‘Yup.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I suppose I’ve had a good run of it,’ he added sadly, even as his thoughts conjured Hannah’s face, instead of his time on the ice – and that hurt him more.
‘Sorry, man. Those rich pretty-boys always somehow manage to come up trumps. This one’s on me.’ He pointed to the beer.
‘Thanks.’
Joe tapped the bar twice with his left hand and then went back to his duties, grabbing a bottle of vodka and serving another customer while Ward’s eyes drifted to the television screen high in the corner next to the bar.
ESPN was playing, like it usually was in a place like this. On the screen, some talking heads on SportsCenter were covering something from the night before in the NBA. He watched with minimal interest, idly reading the closed caption dialogue simply for something to do.
Whatever tidbit was being covered ended and instead switched to footage, yet again, of the fight on the red carpet. Ward groaned. When would this stuff let up? It had been days already. He tugged his hat down tighter on his head taking a long pull of his beer, readying himself to leave.
I don’t need to see this again.
But then the coverage broke away from the brawl and returned to the studio, where the words ‘Breaking News’ flashed across the screen, this time beneath Rob Kendrick’s face.
Suddenly interested, Ward motioned to Joe. ‘Hey … mind turning that up?’
Crap, he hoped the ass hadn’t since made some big public announcement about pressing charges or something.
Joe glanced up at what he was watching and smirked. ‘Ha! You looking to go round two? Don’t punch my TV, OK?’
‘I’ll do my best to keep it together,’ he mumbled as Joe turned up the volume.
On the screen, one of the news reporters was talking. ‘Questions have been swirling today about the head-to-head face-off late last week involving NHL All-Star Ward McKenzie and PGA Champ Rob Kendrick at the NHL Awards. And while we aren’t entirely clear on what spurred the red carpet rumble, some brand-new information about one of the parties has since come to light … ’
