EPILOGUE 1
DANIEL
“Landers is taking a pounding by Beauchamp on his left. Deacon coming for the assist . . . Oh! That’s rough. Deacon’s gonna be feeling that tomorrow. Beauchamp’s still in control.”
“Landers isn’t in the minors anymore. He can’t freeze the puck for long. There’s no way out. He shoots or turns it over.”
“There’s no way to make that shot from the boards, Dan. That puck is as good as gold for the Boston Rebels if he tries.”
“Dallas is finally making it out of the block to help Beauchamp!”
“Hey, Carston,” I say, sweat dripping into my eyes. “Are you gonna take me out to dinner after humping me all night? Get off my fucking stick, dick.”
Shoulder checking him, I finally break freefrom the asshole and dig my blades into the ice, charging to save Landers.
Damn rookies.
“What the fuck is going on?” I grumble, skidding into Dallas as he stumbles into the mess against the boards. Beauchamp knocks the puck from Landers when I get my stick in the mix of a board battle.
Time slows, the noise disappears, the crowds are gone. It’s me and the puck.
This is my game. My arena. My goal.
I take possession, turning so fast that my opponent catches his stick on my skate and flips to the ice as I break away.
My blades scraping through the ice.
The blood rushing past my ears.
My father shouting at me when I was ten, “Don’t fuck it up, Danny Boy,” has always played on repeat in my head.
I close my eyes, no longer giving him power over me.
I own every one of my goals, trophies, and successes. I only play for me now. And my son.
My muscles push me forward, the stick an extension of my body. I open my eyes and shift my arms back, putting the puck in flight over the ice, cutting through the air over the goalie’s shoulder.
Cutting behind the goal, I turn to watch it bounce against the net. “Yes!”
“Maverick puts it away!”
“Goal! The Breakaways win!
“The Maverick of Hockey showing why he earned the title.”
“Sutton is still going strong, Dan. Put the rumors to bed. I think we’re going to be seeing him for years to come.”
“Top of his game.”
Kovlov slams into me. “Fucking amazing, Mav!”
It was fucking amazing. My body vibrates with adrenaline as the moment washes over me. The energy from the fans is electric. The bench clears as my teammates rush to find me. Before they can do that, my gaze shifts to a set of the prettiest blue eyes staring down at me.
“I love you,” she mouths, her hands clamped together at her chest. I lift a glove her way just before my team drives me into the boards in celebration. Their cheers ringing in my ears, I laugh to myself. Damn, it feels good to be a part of something great.
But it feels even better to have my son and fiancée here to witness a legend in the making.
“Good job, old man,” Landers says, shoving my shoulder. “I knew you still had it in you.”
