Page 128 of Hard to Handle

I have a job to do. A win for my team to produce. A place in history to make. So, I straighten and turn toward the training room, ready to lead my team to victory.

Ready to achieve my dream.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

DEKKER

THE PRESS BOX IS NOT where I want to be to watch this game. I want to be with the fans. I want to be high-fiving when goals are made and booing on bad calls by the ref.

Tonight’s game is definitely not one I want to watch from the expensive seats.

But I’ve spent the better part of the last hour up here as the countdown to the face off draws near. I’ve visited with Carla, since apparently Hunter has told her we’re dating, I’ve talked at length to Jonah about how Hunter’s conversations on the phone with him give him more clarity than I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been introduced to Gary, their father.

He’s a hard one to read, but I’m sure my anger and resentment doesn’t help much.

Uncertain what I’m going to say, but more than sure of my intentions, I step up beside where he’s stood the whole time, arms crossed over his chest, as he watches the teams warm-up.

He doesn’t acknowledge I’m standing there and for some reason, I don’t expect him to.

“Your son is a good man, you know. Incredible, actually.”

He nods, but doesn’t say a word or look my way.

“He’s lived a life trying to make you proud, trying to make amends for fate’s cruel hand in the accident that injured Jonah that wasn’t Hunter’s fault to begin with. I understand your lives changed forever that day. I can’t imagine how angry you are over it, and I can’t imagine the pain and suffering you’ve all been through because of it . . . but while you lost the Jonah you knew that day, Hunter lost the parents he knew that day too.”

When I look his way, there are tears welling in his eyes and his chin trembles, but he gives no other acknowledgment that he’s heard what I’ve said.

“I’m in love with your son, and I will not stand by and let him be hurt by you any further. I won’t let it happen. Are you prepared to risk losing your other son too or are you going to try and find a way through your anger to treat him how he deserves to be treated?” I take a step back. “Your call.”

And without another word to Gary Maddox, I turn on my heel with so much more I want to say but restraint locked in place, and head toward my cheap seats.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

HUNTER

A GLANCE AT THE CLOCK.

Ten minutes left in the third period.

It’s a tied game.

Ten minutes left to either be a hero or forgotten.

Two to two.

Ten minutes left to make something happen.

Katzen collects the puck and slings it out to me.

I pass it over to Finch then dodge around a defender. My grunt as his shoulder checks me is loud in my head.

C’mon, Hunter. Twenty bucks and me taking over all your chores if you can make this goal. Show Dad that you can.

The puck is stripped from Finch and we race back to help Katzen.

Withers cuts across the ice and intercepts the pass. We all switch gears and go back the other way.

We’ve been at this for fifty fucking minutes.