We were fine.
The whistle blew and thinking ceased as we all took off, skating up the ice, chasing the puck and trying to score on the other team.
The energy pulsating through my body still feltoff, though, no matter how I tried to shake it.
“You good?” Tanner asked on his way by once, pausing just long enough to let me know I had his attention.
“Yeah,” I nodded, “You?”
“Living the fucking dream!” He smiled, skating backward with that golden-boy grin on his face. God, I loved that man.
I rolled my shoulders, risking a glance back up at Goldie to see if she had relaxed at all, hoping it would relax me to see her as her normal, bubbly, smiling self. The second I found her again though, that anxiety hit me full force like a brick wall. She gripped the railing so tight that even from a distance I could see her white knuckles.
I followed her gaze, where she stared across the ice and found her gaze locked on Tanner. He skated in circles around the ref, laughing at something he said before they settled up for another face-off.
The puck dropped and everyone skated after it, but I hung back, watching the ice with a different lens, a critical eye. Tanner stole the puck from a cop buddy of his and started off down the ice in the opposite direction, breaking away to score.
I clocked Chief Tolbert making a move for the puck, but at the last second, he twisted and took Tanner’s legs out from under him. The move was a cheap shot, one Tanner hadn’t been expecting, and it sent him headfirst into the boards, which he narrowly avoided thanks to his quick reflexes, twisting his body and landing with his back absorbing the impact.
The whistle blew, and the ref aimed a pointed glare at Tolbert’s back as he skated away, “Keep it clean, Chief.”
The man didn’t even turn around to acknowledge the ref, or hell, offer a hand to Tanner as he got up, shaking off the hit. Tanner, the golden boy he was, laughed it off, cracking his neckand getting back to it, though I clocked the questioning glance he threw in the direction of the man who had hit him.
“Hey,” A voice called from behind me, but I didn’t look away from Tolbert as he grabbed his water bottle, taking a long drink off it before heading back out the face off. Thomas skated up to my side, bumping my shoulder with his.
“Yeah,” I replied, watching the Chief.
“Switch with me.” He said, and I finally looked away to my friend.
“And play D?” I scoffed at the absurd idea. “No way.” I played offense, always.
“Seriously,” he said, watching the face-off spot as players joked and laughed. All except Tolbert. “Switch with me.”
I felt the shift in him as he saw Tolbert take the spot directly across from Tanner. Tanner glanced my way, where I should have been on his wing if Thomas hadn’t been distracting me.
“What do you know?” I asked, cutting to the chase. My instincts never let me down when danger was involved, and my senses were tingling now. Something was wrong. And it had to do with Tanner.
“Enough.” Thomas said pointedly. “If you won’t switch, then watch his six.” He said, nodding to Tanner. The message was sharp, and instantly I knew I should have figured out what was going on before the game started.
“Tell me—” My hands tightened around my stick, but the whistle blew and Thomas shoved me toward Tanner’s wing.
“Just stay tight. Watch him.” He said before skating back to his place in front of the net. “Stay tight, Rhea.”
“Got it.” I snapped, already knowing Tanner wasn’t getting away from me, regardless if we were on the same team. He was my man.
On and off the ice. And something was seriously wrong.
The puck dropped again, and I watched Tolbert make a quick shove, skating after Tanner as he passed the puck to Eli. Tanner turned, skating off toward their net, and Tolbert gave chase, not even paying attention to the puck.
Not on my watch.
I skated like a bat out of hell, catching up in no time flat, and I twisted around anticipating Tanner’s shift, catching Tolbert by surprise as he ran right into my shoulder check. It rocked my teeth together from the impact of it, but it saved Tanner from getting laid out flat on his blind side.
Which further confirmed my suspicions. Tolbert wasn’t here to play hockey.
He was here for Tanner.
To hurt him.
