Losing an Edge (Portland Storm Book 13) (25 page)

KEEPING MY HEAD
together on this trip had been difficult in the best of times, considering how worried I was about Cadence and her stalker. But before our Saturday matinee game against the Rangers, when I’d gotten that call from her, it had gotten to be about a thousand times more difficult than before. I’d filled in Jonny with what I’d learned as soon as I hung up with her, but now we were both worried sick.

Here we were, stuck in New York and unable to protect her. Anthony and Jesse were in Cleveland all weekend. Yeah, the cops were there, but so far they hadn’t done much but give her a piece of paper. We didn’t like it. Neither of us. Not one bit, but what could we do short of skipping out on the team? Nothing.

Right before warm-ups, Jonny came stalking over to my stall in the locker room, looking ready to rip my head off.

“What?” I asked, sure it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with Cadence.

He glared at me, shook his head, and stomped off.

“Go,” Hammer said. “Follow him. Figure out what’s up.”

So I went, finding him in a quiet corner in the bowels of Madison Square Garden, not too far from where Koz and several of the other guys were kicking around a soccer ball.

“Sara just called,” he said once I caught up with him. He ground out the words, like he’d swallowed gravel.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

He shook his head. “She’s having a hell of a time convincing Cadence to stay at the house. Cadence seems to think it would be safer for Sara and the kids if she wasn’t there.”

“Fuck,” I muttered.

“Yeah.”

The worst part of it was that there might be some truth to Cadence’s fears. I wasn’t sure. Would Guy leave the other people in Cadence’s life alone if she wasn’t around them? Maybe or maybe not. It was too soon to tell.

“She’s not leaving yet, is she? She needs to stay at least until we return home. I don’t like the thought of her being alone.”

“If she leaves, she’ll be alone whether we’re there or not.”

“Not if she comes to stay with me.”

Jonny glowered at me for a long time. Long enough that most guys would immediately back down from whatever it was they were doing.

I didn’t, though. I couldn’t. Not on this. “She’s scared for you and your wife and kids. I get it, but she can’t be alone.”

“She’s scared for you, too,” he finally said. “What happens if she won’t stay with you?”

“I’ll find a way to convince her.”

“And when we’re out of town the next time? What then?”

I shook my head. “We’ll figure it out. I don’t know yet.”

Jonny grunted and nodded. “All right. So we convince her to stay until we get back to Portland, then she stays with you. But I swear to God, 501, if you put one toe out of line…”

“You don’t need to threaten me. I’m as worried about her as you are. I’m not going to hurt her.”

He grunted in response, and his glare didn’t lighten up at all. But he wasn’t acting like he was about to rip me limb from limb so his son could feed me to the alligators. That had to be a good sign, didn’t it?

Holy hell. He wasn’t going to murder me over my suggestion.

“How do we convince her to stay put for now?”

“Sara can manage it,” he said. Then he turned around and stalked back to the locker room.

THE RANGERS HAD
been one of the best teams in the league all season, and today, we were quickly learning why. They were relentless on the puck. Their forwards were constantly coming at us, and the
D
typically joined the rush. Henrik Lundqvist was no slouch in goal, either. Not a surprise, since he and Nicky tended to fight for that position for Team Sweden every time it came to international competition.

Today, they were having a goaltending dual.

Partway through the third period, shots were coming at each of them almost nonstop, despite both teams actively trying to block the puck before it snuck through.

Marc Staal, one of their
D
-men, wound up for a slapper. I went down without even thinking about it. The puck got me on the inside of the knee, right where there’s no padding.

“Fucking son of a bitch, that fucking hurts,” I shouted, trying to get myself up so I could return to the bench and walk it off.

Lucky for me, our forwards gathered up the puck and skated out of the zone, and Harry gave me a shove, putting his stick in my back, to help me get off the ice.

“You break anything?” Archie, our head trainer, asked.

I shook my head, grimacing. “It’s only a stinger.”

Bergy glanced in my direction. “Walk it off, 501. Need you in this game.”

“I’ll be fine,” I insisted as I made my way to the tunnel behind the bench, limping around until the worst of the pain dissipated into a dull throb. That was much more manageable. I headed back and took my spot on the bench between Harry and Hammer.

We were defending against the Rangers’ attack again, with Koz, Ghost, and Jo-Jo doing their damnedest to get the puck back in our possession. Koz finally got a stick on it, and that black rubber motherfucker squirted out into the neutral zone.

Ghost turned on his afterburners and shot out to catch up to it. The Rangers’ defenseman covering that point lost an edge and fell to the ice, leaving Ghost all alone. He picked up the puck on his stick and skated in all alone against Lundqvist. High, glove-side. That was what Ghost needed to do if he was going to have any chance against this guy, and everyone on our bench knew it.

He didn’t elevate the puck enough with his shot. Straight into the glove. Would’ve been a bull’s-eye if Lundqvist had a fucking target on him.

Ghost skated back to our bench for a change. “Sorry, boys. Didn’t put enough mustard on that one.” He took a seat, and Webs bent over his shoulder, telling him something like “You’ve got to elevate to accumulate,” as Harry and I headed over the boards for our next shift, along with the third line of Austin Cooper, Otto Raita, and Dylan Poplawski—a speedy trio who frustrated the hell out of the opposition, even if they didn’t tend to score a lot.

Coop won the draw to Lundqvist’s left, and we went to work. Pops set up camp directly outside Lundqvist’s crease, providing an excellent screen and absorbing a ton of slashes and crosschecks that the refs chose to overlook. Otter and Coop played keep-away with the puck, every now and then passing it back to me or Harry while they tried to free themselves of their cover.

Harry wound up and shot it toward the net, and Pops tipped it just wide. Coop beat the Rangers to the rebound and sent it back to me.

I didn’t have a good look at the net. No clear lanes. I passed it back to Otter before shifting myself into a better position.

By now, we’d had the Rangers chasing us for longer than the average shift, and they were tired. The forwards cycled the puck some more, but it got trapped in the corner and two of them went in to dig it out. Once it finally popped free, the puck shot up my side of the boards, so I pinched in to keep the play alive.

The next moment, I was behind the net with the puck on my stick. Pops and Coop both went straight to the paint in front of the net.

I passed it out toward them, and it bounced off a skate. Lundqvist tried to change directions, but it was too late. The puck slipped under his pads and past his attempt to contort his body into a position that might stop it.

“Fucking right,” Coop screamed, leaping into my arms as the other guys rushed to join the celebration. In no time, they were all pounding me on the top of the head and slapping me on the back.

“Did it hit your skate?” I asked Coop. If it did, he’d get credit for the goal. Hell, the Rangers might even challenge it, saying he’d kicked it in.

“Not me, man. It was one of them.”

Huh. Maybe this time I was on the right end of an own-goal situation.

I skated in front of our bench, holding out my glove for fist bumps as I went. When I reached the end, Hammer grabbed me like he was going to give me a noogie.

“Hell of a risk you took, kid. See what happens?”

Yeah. I saw. And I kind of liked it.

The lights over the penalty box came on, signaling a TV timeout, and Jamie skated over to stand in front of me. “Hell of a redirection. Tell me you planned it to happen like that.”

I started to shake my head, but he punched my shoulder.

“Lie to me. Tell me you planned it, because now I want to practice doing that. Need to show my kid brother how it should be done.” Then he winked.

“Yeah,” I said, drawing the word out. “I knew exactly what I was doing. Good luck repeating it.” Because I sure as hell didn’t think I’d ever be able to.

“Gotta have something to work toward, right?” Then he skated back to center ice to set up for the next face-off.

“Watch it, 501,” Webs said, coming up behind me. “If you’re not careful, he’ll have the whole team trying to learn how to steal your move.”

I ENDED UP
scoring the only goal in that game against the Rangers. Sunday night, I had another good game against the Islanders. Didn’t end up in the goal column, but I had two assists and three blocked shots, not to mention what might have been the biggest hit of my career, when I’d lined up Clutterbuck and caught him with his head down. Usually, he was the one on the other end of hits like that, so it felt good.

But now, the only thing on my mind was getting home and making sure—for myself—that Cadence was all right.

We spent Sunday night in New York instead of flying cross-country in the middle of the night and arriving home in the wee hours of the morning. Any way you looked at it, we were going to lose Monday for practice anyway.

By the time we landed at PDX, it was late afternoon. Jonny caught my eye as I was leaving the plane.

“You following me to the house?”

No point in putting things off. I nodded. “As long as you’re okay with that.”

“Sara got her to agree to stay until we returned home, but that’s all she agreed to. I think it’s better for everyone if we sit down and hash it all out. Anthony and Jesse should be back by now. I’m sure we can convince them to come over, too.”

“You mean you think it’s best if we gang up on her.”

He shrugged and grunted.

I did exactly as he suggested and followed him home. It turned out Anthony and Jesse were already there. Connor was jumping on Jesse’s balls when we came through the door, so I decided to do as little as possible to draw the little boy’s notice. The less he jumped on mine, the better my chances of ever being able to father children, if that was in the cards. A quick look around revealed Cadence was nowhere to be found.

Sara kissed Jonny and passed Cassidy into his arms almost as soon as we got there. “We ordered pizza,” she said. “Seemed easiest, with this many people.”

“Good,” he said. “I’m starving. Where’s Cadence?”

“Here,” Cadence said from the stairs. Then she saw me, and her eyes lit up. That was all it took to shake off all the cold from the outside and warm me all the way through. She rushed down and straight to me, wrapping me up in a hug.

I put my arms around her and held her close, breathing the scent of her hair.