Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
I look at Arnold, wondering why this is being allowed. Aren’t the referees supposed to stop it? Dane’s getting the better end of the fight, but he’s taken several blows to the head.
The Seattle player says something that causes Dane to shove him to the ice and climb on top of him, punching him repeatedly. Players from both teams jump into the fight, the referees trying to break it up with no luck.
“Dammit,” Arnold mutters, burying his face in his hands.
Finally, the refs break the fight up, fans screaming as a ref points at Dane and he skates away.
“What happened?” I ask.
“He was ejected.”
Dane is almost off the ice when he says something to a fan who’s yelling at him from the stands. The fan flips him the double bird and Dane opens his arms and says, “Come on! Let’s go!”
“Dane, stop,” I say softly.
“Nothing gets him going like Sam Styles,” Arnold says, typing out a text on his phone.
“Is that the Seattle player who started the fight?”
He nods. “I don’t know who started it, but Dane can’t play this team without a major altercation with Styles.”
“Why?”
He looks over his shoulder to make sure no one is in earshot, then speaks in a low tone. “His wife left him for Sam. It’s been years, but...” He shrugs. “I don’t think a man ever forgives that. They were teammates when it happened.”
“Oh my God.”
I sit back in my seat, stunned. The conversation between Dane and Tim makes sense now.
“Don’t even try to talk to him,” Arnold cautions. “I hear he’s impossible to be around after one of these fights.”
I sigh heavily. “I wish I’d known about this.”
He gives me a small smile. “You couldn’t have done anything about it, Josie. It’s going to be like this until one of them retires.”
“What does this mean? He got ejected from the game, is that it?”
“We’ll know more soon.”
I gather up my things. “I’m going to talk to him.”
Without waiting for Arnold to tell me not to, I leave the VIP box, my heart still racing. I have to flash my all-access badge at least a dozen times before I get into the locker room, and when I do, I inhale sharply as I lay eyes on Dane.
The team doctor is examining him in the training room. Both of his eyes are swollen, one nearly closed, and he has a fat lip. There’s a distant look in his eyes.
“I need to sew up the eyebrow,” the doctor says.
I let the doctor work, a training assistant passing him things as he needs them. When he takes a break to wash the blood from his hands, I approach Dane.
“Not now,” he says, not even looking at me.
I nod, unable to feel angry at him. His wife cheated on him with a teammate. It explains so much.
It also leaves me with a thousand questions. None of which will be answered anytime soon.
CHAPTER TEN
Dane
“You’re suspended for two games,” Tim says from the other side of the conference table. “I called in a lot of favors to keep it from being three.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
I can’t make myself look remorseful because I’m not. If I had to do it over again, I’d stop my fist from connecting with a ref’s shoulder, but I wouldn’t change anything else. The ref shouldn’t have inserted himself between me and Styles when I was midpunch.
“This isn’t a great look, but it’s a step up from the park bench incident,” says Tamara Curtis, the head of the Mammoths PR department.
Her tone has its usual edge. Only the guys who spend their off days inoculating orphans and rescuing cats from trees get her friendly voice. I’ll consider myself a failure at life if Tamara ever likes me.
“Josie, maybe you need to be out on the ice with him from now on,” Tamara says, sighing.
Tamara was the one who called this meeting, and so far, the only agenda item is berating me. My fucking head hurts and I slept like shit on the flight home. So I’m extra not in the mood to be sitting in this conference room with my coach, Josie and Tamara. It’s Tamara’s job to recommend how I spend my time while suspended. And if she thinks I’m volunteering at a food pantry on no sleep with this raging headache, she’s dead wrong.
“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal,” Josie says. “I’ve been keeping up with hockey headlines and everyone seems to understand that Dane wasn’t aiming for the ref. The ref just got in the way, but the rules are the rules and he had to be suspended. Fans love that Dane is a fighter. It’s part of the game and he doesn’t back down.”
I look at her, momentarily stunned. She just stood up for me, even though I was a complete dick to her on the flight home. I bitched about her cat, her taste in music and the light from her phone, but none of it was really about her. She knew that because she took it all in stride instead of fighting back like usual.