Cage's Misconduct (NHL Scorpions #3) (23 page)

BOOK: Cage's Misconduct (NHL Scorpions #3)
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“I’m sorry for being such a downer. Tell me something about you that nobody knows.”

I let her change the subject and searched my memory bank for something worthy of her question. “Hmm. I never, ever thought that I wouldn’t make the NHL. I never even had a backup plan.”

“You have to do better than that. Most guys go in believing they’ll make the big time, don’t they?”

She had a point. “Yeah, probably. Okay, let me think.” I could tell her about that one time in Vegas with the two blondes and the twin redheads. Probably not a good idea. “Um.”

“Let me guess. You can think of things, but nothing that’s appropriate to share with me.”

“What? No! No. I’m just thinking of something good.” We were almost back to the house when I thought of it. “Okay, here you go. I’ve always wanted a pair of purple sneakers, but I’m afraid that if I wear them, people will make fun of me. And then I’ll have to kick their asses.”

She laughed and tapped my arm. “Purple sneakers? That’s not a big deal. Tons of guys were purple sneakers.”

“Maybe. I can’t think of anything else.” I waggled my eyebrows at her. “Well, anything else appropriate. If you want to hear about the two blondes and the twin redheads, I met in Vegas—”

She slapped her hand over my mouth, effectively stopping that story. “Nope. I’m good. We’ll stick with the purple sneakers.”

Stairs were still tricky for her. I was sure they worried me more than they did her, but all the same, I stood behind her as she made her way up. “You know I can feel you hovering at my back, right?”

“So? I don’t want you to stumble.”

“I’m not going to fall, Cage. For God’s sake, I can walk up some stairs.” She shook her head, exasperated. I loved our gentle sparring sessions. They amused me.

“Great. Then you won’t even really know I’m here. Now keep moving.” I patted her on the ass and was rewarded with an exaggerated sway of her hips as she continued up the last stair.

“Well, I made it. All the way up. Thank you so much for helping me.” She batted her eyelashes like a damsel in distress, making me laugh.

“You’re welcome.” I followed her into the house, right on her heels.

“What are you doing now?”

“Your mother told me to make sure you were tucked in your bed before I leave. So I’m tucking you in.”

“But I’m going to sit down here and read for a while first.” She really thought that would get me out?

“Fine. I’ll tuck you into the couch or the chair.”

“Okay …”

I waited while she got herself situated with a book—a romance—and a glass of water. Then I went in for my goodnight kiss. I think I deserved them now, don’t you?

I swallowed her gasp at the first touch of our lips. She didn’t back away. My hands were on either side of the recliner holding me up as I leaned over her. When her lips parted, I swept inside, groaning at the taste of her. Her hands came up and fisted in my shirt. Right before I was going to lose my mind and forget how injured Karen still was, I pulled away, turned around and walked out the door. Let her be the one who stayed up all night thinking about me for a change. I’d say—point, Cage.

Chapter 20
 
 

 

 

Well, this was it. This could be my last shot to play this season. There was only one game left in this series, but dammit, if the doc cleared me, I wanted to play it. I jumped through all his hoops with the light testing and the finger touching my nose and about a dozen other concussion tests. Now I was just waiting for him to give me the all clear. “So? Can I play?”

“If it was still the regular season, I’d suggest you sit out another week for those ribs of yours, but I can’t keep you out for that. Your concussion symptoms are gone enough to give you a clean bill of health. So yes, you can play.”

“Thanks doc! Thank you so much.” I ran out of there to go to the rink and talk to Coach DeLeon. There was a light practice going on, and I wanted in. I knew the goalie coach would stay with me after the others were done, but I got an unexpected and pleasant surprise when I took the ice.

“Cage!”

“Fuck yeah, Booker’s back!”

Their shouts made me feel great, but at the same time I couldn’t help feeling bad for Jacques. I waved my stick in the air, acknowledging their welcome as I skated over to the coach. “Hey, Coach. I’m available if you need me. Got my clearance about an hour ago.”

“I know. Your clearance report from the doctor was e-mailed to me a few minutes ago. How are the ribs?”

“They hurt, but they’re not an issue.”

He looked doubtful. “You sure?”

“Next question, coach.” Instead of asking me another question, he lightly checked me into the boards. It didn’t feel too great, but fuck it. I could hurt later.

Through clenched teeth, I muttered, “See? No problem.”

“Okay. Go take your spot.” He waved Jacques over to center ice where he was standing, and I went to my crease. I couldn’t worry about him pulling Jacques if that’s what he was going to do. This was
my
net,
my
crease. I was grateful to Jacques for filling in, but I was the big dog here, and I was going to prove it.

I looked at my ice. I felt the way I glided over it in my skates. My stick felt like an extension of my arm while my glove and blocker felt like security blankets. This was where I was meant to be.

DeLeon blew his whistle and waited for all the guys to turn toward him. “Booker’s back, yes, but let’s not get too excited yet. He hasn’t played in a while. Let’s see what he’s got. And guys? Give him all you’ve got. You can’t go easy on him. This is the playoffs and tomorrow is our last chance to move to the finals. We either move on or go golfing. Now move!”

They gave me a second to do my routine. I skated around the net to the left—banged both posts with my stick—did two slides, side to side and tapped my helmet twice. As soon as I made that last tap, they moved. And, holy shit, did they move fast. I took shots high, low, over my left shoulder, over my right. I thought they’d never stop, but I felt good. Sure my ribs were screaming at me, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I had no headache, and the lights weren’t bothering me. I was good to go.

Keith and just a few of the other guys stayed with me for a full hour after the other stragglers had left. I finally put a stop to it myself. “Enough! I cry Uncle.” The guys were tired. They’d been playing a lot and needed some rest before tomorrow’s game. Oh, who was I kidding? I was the one who was done in. I needed about four Advils and my bed.

Keith sent the guys into the locker room, but held me back. “Come out to dinner with us tonight. We’re going to the Ventura’s.”

“I think I’m just going to go home and rest, Keith, but thanks for the invite.”

Our captain rarely got his knickers in a twist, but apparently today was the day. “It wasn’t a request. I’m pulling my Captain card here, Booker. We need to get together tonight. The team’s floundering and we’re almost out of the run. Jacques has done a bang up job for the amount of time he’s spent in the net this year. We’re grateful for it, but we need you. If we want to advance to the finals, we need you. This could be the year. We could go all the way.”

I won’t lie. I was soaking up Keith’s praise, but I couldn’t see how my going to dinner was going to do much. I’m sure Jacques wasn’t all that pleased I was back. “Pulling rank on me, huh? You really think it’ll make a difference if I’m there or not?”

“Yeah, Cage. I do. The only one who won’t be there is Jacques—and before you say anything, it’s not because of you. His wife is about to deliver their first baby. She went into the hospital early this morning.”

“Wow. Speak of the devil.” Jacques was making his way back out of the locker room, walking quickly toward us.

“Hey, man. Am I ever glad you’re back. Don’t get me wrong, I was totally stoked getting my chance to start in the playoffs, but I can’t miss the birth of my first kid.” He held up his hand, even though neither one of us was going to interrupt him. “I’ll be at the game, for sure, I’m just afraid my mind wouldn’t be where it needs to be.”

A couple of months ago, I would have thought he was insane even putting his wife and kid before a playoff game, but now I could see how it could happen. I loved hockey. Loved it. There was nothing else I’d rather be doing with my life, but since knowing Karen, I could grasp that there just might be something more beyond hockey.

***

When I got to the restaurant, I felt marginally better than I had directly after practice. My only complaint was the smell of ointment radiating off my sore muscles, but I certainly wasn’t the only one there with that particular scent radiating off of me.

I was running a little late, and the guys were already digging into their salads when I walked in. The first thing I noticed was everyone’s drink of ‘choice’. They were all drinking water. Keith was a stickler with the no-alcohol-the-night-before-a-game rule. He was undoubtedly a good leader.

There was an empty seat next to Rush and Marcoux. I maybe would have chosen not to sit next to Rush, but what could I do? “Hey guys. How’s it going?”

Rush elbowed me, sloshing his own water out of his glass. “You been watching the playoffs, man? It ain’t going good.”

“Well, whose fault is that?”

“Yours! We need you in net, man.”

Again, nice to hear, but I wasn’t the whole team. “Thanks. I’ll be glad to be back, but I don’t score goals.”

“Well, shit. I don’t either. Guys?” He pointed his fork at our scoring forwards.

Keith cleared his throat before the blame game could escalate. “Yesterday doesn’t matter. Only tomorrow matters. Let’s think about that, but for now, let’s just have a nice meal and we’ll talk hockey afterward in the lounge.”

There was a collective groan around the table as most of the guys wanted to go straight home after dinner to relax and catch some sleep. Keith didn’t even try to disguise his annoyance at their aloof manner. He banged his hand on the table, making silverware bounce. “Guys!” He looked around. Our location in the corner of the restaurant was only somewhat private. Catching himself, Keith lowered his voice to a menacing growl. “Tomorrow is it. Christ! You know that. We lose, we go home. Are you ready to go home?”

He was met with silence. Most of the guys didn’t even raise their eyes to meet his. He made the silverware jump again. “Are you?”

There was a quiet chorus of negative responses. “Then we’ll talk hockey in the god damn lounge after a nice fucking meal.” Without another word or scowl, he picked up his fork and continued to eat.

I believe I’d mentioned this before, but Keith rarely lost his cool. He didn’t come down hard on the guys. He was consistently level-headed and well-mannered. Apparently he’d reached his limit. And really, who could blame him?

“Guess we’re going to talk in the lounge after, eh?” Rush
never
knew when to keep his mouth shut. Luckily, he said no more as he resumed shoveling food into his mouth as fast as he could scoop it up.

 

***

When I got home, I grabbed a bottle of water and went out to the deck to call Karen. I hadn’t talked to her all day. She didn’t even know I’d be playing tomorrow night. It was just after seven. The sun was still pretty high in the sky, having almost an hour to go before sunset. I’d bet my last dollar she was sitting on her deck painting. We lived so close to each other, I could almost see her place from mine.

The phone rang a few times and was eventually picked up by her mother. Karen was napping. I didn’t want to disturb her, so I talked to Maddie for a while.

“How was she today?”

“Fine. You can stop worrying now, honey. She’s going to be fine. She’s accepted her fate, and her body is healing nicely. Thanks in part to you.”

“I didn’t do anything, but I’m glad she’s doing so well. Anyway, one of the reasons I called tonight was to tell Karen that I’ve been cleared to play. I’m playing in the game tomorrow night and I wanted to invite you all. Jody, Lacey
,
and Addie too. Vlad and his group also, if they want to come. It might be a little crowded in the suite, but there’s enough room for everyone.” Technically, Jody and Vlad didn’t need an invitation to go to the game since they both still worked for the organization, but I figured I’d put it out there anyway.

“I would love to come see the game! Oh, how exciting. And a playoff game to boot! Oh, count me in. Karen will want to go too, obviously. It’ll be good for her to get out. There aren’t many stairs she’ll have to climb, are there?”

“No. There’s a VIP elevator from the ground floor she can take up. They know she’s Jody’s sister. Heck, everyone who’s met her falls in love with her. She’s made friends with the entire staff at the arena.”

Maddie chuckled softly. “That’s my girl. I know I thanked you already, Cage, but I hope you know how appreciative I am. I don’t know if Karen’s told you much about my past, but I wasn’t always there for my kids. Jody was more of a father to her than a big brother. He had to be. My husband was gone and I had mentally checked out myself. I like to think I’m making up for lost time now, but she can use some more people in her life to care for her.”

I wasn’t sure how much to divulge, so I simply told her the basics as I knew them. “She told me that you are much harder on yourself than you need to be. She also told me that, even though you weren’t always around, she never doubted that you loved her. She still doesn’t. She loves you very much.”

“Did she really say that?” Her delicate sniffles touched my heart. These women were killing me.

“Yes she did.”

“That means so much to me. Thank you for telling me that. You know, to hear Jody speak of you, I thought you’d be this big macho jerk. You’re not at all what I expected, Dalton.”

“Yeah, well, Jody and I have had our differences, but we’re trying to move past that for Karen’s sake. I don’t hate Jody, I just don’t really like him.” That may have been too much honesty to tell his mother, judging by the silence. To my delighted surprise, her laughter broke it.

“Oh, I can see very clearly why you and my son would have differences.”

“You can?”

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