Chapter 23 – Life Goals
Hope for The Future
The night vibrates with the low thrum of a helicopter cutting through the winter night.
Its blades churn the crisp air above the Thunder Bay Titans arena as an onboard camera sweeps wide over the crowded parking lot. Bundled fans are still hurrying through the gates, heads down, collars up. The building glows against the darkness like a beacon, every window and entrance blazing.
"Good evening, hockey fans," the sportscaster booms. "Tonight, we've got the matchup that everyone's been dying to see. The Ice Hawks take on the Titans in their home territory. This promises to be yet another thrilling chapter in one of the league's fiercest rivalries."
The helicopter banks, diving lower as the crowd's noise swells in the background.
"Defensemen Jaxson Kingston and Bash Duchesne meet once again, and when these two share the ice, sparks always fly."
The camera dives, like a bird folding its wings, plunging from the dark sky into the rink's brilliant white overhead lights.
Inside, the arena is electric.
The puck drops.
From the opening faceoff, Bash and Jaxson circle each other like rival predators, drawn together like magnets, ready to collide. Along the boards, they clash shoulder to shoulder, sticks locked as they engage shift after shift. Their bodies are weapons, driving into one another, each hit delivered with intent and malice. Both are bruisers, defensive anchors who don't shy away from contact but revel in punishment. The ice becomes a battleground whenever these two occupy it together, fueled by both their professional and personal lives, a rivalry burning out of control. It happens every game.
A shove.
A cross-check.
A muttered insult spat at each other beneath the roar.
They meet again in front of the net, bodies colliding, neither giving an inch. This isn't just hockey, it's close to the heart.
"You proud of yourself, Douche-say?" Jaxson snarls, jabbing his glove into Bash's chest. "You sleep okay after wrecking my home?"
Bash's jaw tightens. "You're the one who broke her heart and threw her away, Jackass. Remember that stellar idea? Open marriage."
Jaxson laughs, sharp and ugly. "You think she'll stay with you? She's just getting even with me for my stupidity. We're soulmates."
"That's it! You're delusional."
Bash's gloves hit the ice.
So do Jaxson's.
As fists inevitably begin to fly, the crowd goes nuts. It's not pretty or strategic. It's personal.
The refs charge in, hauling them both apart as they shout at each other, raw rage echoing through the now silent venue.
Two penalties.
Two sin bins.
Opposite sides of the ice.
Seething, Bash slams down onto the bench, throwing his helmet to the floor. His chest heaves while his knuckles burn.
Then he hears it.
"Bash."
He'd know that voice anywhere. It cuts right through the roar of the fans.
