Prologue - 2016
Griff
“If you pass out, I willfucking kill you,Benjamin Griffiths!” Savannah seethed.
“Breeeathe, baby. I’m only kidding. That’s why I’m staying right here by your head. No blood up here!”
Her lip quivered again. “You’re turningwhite.”
“No, I’m not,” I lied. “I love you so much and you can do this. I read all about it. You said I know things, well, Iknowyou can do this, Sav.”
She closed her eyes tightly and nodded, making me feel a little better that I was able to help her in even a tiny way.
“The next contraction, she needs to push,” the doctor directed. “If she doesn’t, we need to go to an emergency c-section.”
Fuckin A. I just got her mind off it, now she looked at me with a freaked-out face again.
“You got this baby. It’ll all be over if you push this time. Just one more time. I promise it’ll be okay.”
She let out an anguished scream then and squeezed my hand even tighter…
A couple seconds later, a little baby’s scream pierced the room…
FIRST PERIOD
January 2009
13 years ago
1. Griff - Wednesday night game at the Ice League
I jumped into the glass behind the net that I just scored on- my celly tradition- and turned to throw my arms wide as my teammates all pounded into me for a celebratoryhug.
Dunny, our largest D man was skating fast toward us to join the hug, and I internally cringed as he came nearer. The poor guy didn’t know his own strength; he’d been known to give a guy a concussion after celebrating his goal because he launched his 6’5 frame into the huddle too happily and too hard. He even gave me a nosebleed once when hugging me after I gave him an assist to his lone goal of the season.
“Time to break it up, boys!” I called before Dunny could reach us. My teammates all laughed knowingly.
Dunny cracked a smile and just tapped my helmet as we all skated back to the bench to knuckle punch gloves.
I launched myself up over the boards and felt my fellow teammates make some space for me on the bench.
“Ayyy, budday!” I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see my best bud, Nick Johns. He was supposed to be a couple guys down from me and about to get on the ice. He must’ve inconspicuously messed up the bench order to be on my line next shift.
His eyes flickered toward Coach, who totally did a double take seeing him next to me, but then his attention was torn back to the ice where one of our wingers got leveled. His feet flew up in the air and you could hear the thud from his body being dropped to the ice all the way from the bench where we were sitting. That got Coach riled up for sure. The veins in his neck bulged out as he yelled at our defensemen to stop giving suicide passes.
“Help me out?” Nick grinned.
I shook my head, biting back a laugh. “Old, cocky Nicky Johns wants my help? He can’t do it all by himself?” I turned my gaze back to the game. I loved watching, strategizing, trying to find weaknesses while I waited for my next shift out there.
“Yeah, yeah,” he countered, leaning over the boards in front of him. He lowered his voice, “I’ve been stuck on a line with Simpson and Reggie all game, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get anything to work with them. Every time I set something up, they just take and puck hog. I want some smooth, pass, pass, pass, shoot, score.”
“Pass, shoot, score, you say?” Coach growled behind us.
Shit. Nick was always getting us in trouble with his loud mouth.
Nick cut his dark, mischievous eyes toward me and raised an eyebrow, as if questioning me as well.
“Yes, sir,” I barked, just as the ref blew the whistle.
