Cage's Misconduct (NHL Scorpions #3)

by Nikki Worrell

  “We have to. We lose one more game and we’re out. Did you call Andre, by the way?”

  “I stopped in earlier today when he was working out. We had a good talk. I think he’s a little calmer now. The kid’s good. He’s not as good as I am yet, but he’s getting there. It’s a shame he got thrown into the playoffs like he did. Another year or two and he’s going to be a serious contender. He’s got skills.”

  “I hope you told him all of that.”

  I did, and meant every word. I knew the kid needed to hear it. I know it sounded like I was patting myself on the back, but I was good. Some of the skill I was born with, but a lot has been honed through a ton of back-breaking work. This kid had skill, too. Our regular backup was out with a pulled groin. Jacques was our AHL goalie, and was doing a pretty good job for being thrown into the playoffs without ever having played in the NHL before. “I did. He’s under a lot of pressure, though. We’ll see how it goes. Hopefully our offense can step up and help the kid out with some goals.”

  “Oh. Oh, what is this? Shh.” Karen turned the volume up as Maddie came in and put sodas for all of us on the table.

  The announcers were overly animated as they talked. “We’re hearing that Chicago’s goalie may get a game misconduct. If he gets that, he’s out of here. Other players can serve their other penalties, but not a game misconduct. This could be huge for the Scorpions. Let’s take a look at the replay.”

  Chicago’s goalie deliberately stuck his stick in our captain’s skate, and then threw his glove at him. The only time I’d ever seen someone throw his glove was during a particularly hostile game we’d play against Philly a while back. Good ole’ Scotty. I couldn’t help but like the guy.

  If Logan had stopped at throwing the glove, he probably would have just gotten a couple of minors, but when the ref started giving out penalties, Logan banged his stick over his net hard enough to break it, causing a piece to fly to the side and hit the ref right above his eye. Blood gushed to the ice. Head wounds tended to look worse than they were, but damn—whenever humanly possible, avoid hitting a ref!

  “Well, that can certainly help us.” She was right again. Jacques had a few playoff games under his belt. Their backup hadn’t played many games at all that I knew of. Only enough to have given Logan a break when he needed it.

  We watched as Smith, their backup goalie, was brought in. He was given a minute to check his crease and warm up a bit. Then it was game on.

  We scored two goals in the second period. The Scorpions were looking fanfuckingtastic, and my hopes were high. “Yeah! That’s the way to do it, boys!”

  Maddie and Karen were both shouting right along with me. They knew every bit as much about the sport as I did. They may not have played professionally, but both grew up in Canada where both boys and girls played daily. And then there was Jody. They knew he was good from day one. And from day one, they also knew he’d be an enforcer. His number one instinct was to protect—on any level. And he did, until too many shots to the head and a pregnant wife convinced him that retirement was a blessing in disguise. He now ran a hockey club for youth groups as part of a Scorpions’ outreach program. Vlad worked for them, too. It was a sweet deal. They were potentially recruiting the next best hockey players around and helping out their community at the same time.

  The third period brought us two more goals, which wasn’t all that common in playoff hockey. Playoff hockey games were usually pretty tight, but there were extenuating circumstances with second-and third-string goalies playing. We went on to win the game and would see another day in the playoffs. We weren’t eliminated yet.

  “Well, we live to see another day. Three games to three. Next game will decide it.” I was stoked for my team. Really stoked! I wanted my name on that cup. Since I’d played so much during the year, my name would still be on it, even though I wasn’t playing right now.

  Karen’s hand was over her heart. “I swear. Sometimes hockey’s too much for me. I get so angry and happy and loud and then quiet. I’ll almost be happy to have a break after the Scorpions win the cup.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears, darlin’.” I knew she loved when the Texas came out in me, and I tried to slip it in now and then when it didn’t seem too obvious. “I’m restless. Do you ladies want to go for a walk?”

  Maddie looked at both of us and shook her head. “Not me. I’m going to get into bed, call my Samuel and read for a bit. You two go on without me. Will you make sure Karen gets up to bed okay before you leave, Dalton?”

  “Yes ma’am, I will. Thanks for letting me steal some of your time with her again.”

  Her smile was all knowing. There was no doubt in my mind she knew I couldn’t stay away. “Oh, that’s no worry. You stop over any time you like.” To my surprise, she leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here for my baby girl. You’ve done wonders taking care of her. Thank you.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Luckily, I didn’t have to say anything. She got up and quickly took herself up the stairs, leaving Karen and I alone with only the commercials on the TV for company. “Why don’t you go get a sweater while I take our glasses into the kitchen and turn the TV off?”

  “That sounds good. Thanks.” I watched her walk up the stairs. It was a view I didn’t think I’d ever tire of seeing. And I noticed that she didn’t pause as much on her way up. She was healing nicely.

  The glasses were in the dishwasher by the time she ambled back down. She looked adorable in her pink San Diego hoodie and sweatpants. A tourist to the end. She didn’t bother with shoes.

  “Ready?” I held my hand out to her. When she took it with a smile, I couldn’t help but lean in to give her a kiss. Her lips were begging for it. Okay, maybe that was my imagination.

  “What was that for?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to.” She smiled demurely at me and squeezed my hand.

  “Oh.” I was pleased she hadn’t slammed her walls back up where I was concerned. Before the accident, she had given in to the chemistry between us, but since then we really hadn’t had much opportunity to act on it. I’d been afraid she’d withdraw from me again.

  The night was cool and the stars were bright. It was a perfect night for lovers—or good friends—to take a stroll on the beach. We took it slow as the chill in the air caused her to walk a bit closer to me. I was ever mindful that I couldn’t grip her too hard. She was still fairly tender from her surgery. As a matter of fact, I made sure we didn’t stray too far from the house.

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Eh. I’m not great, but I’m a little better every day. It’ll be nice when I can stand up straight and not have to think about it, but really that’s the last thing left. I can comfortably lift my arms to do my hair, I can take a deep breath, and I even did some laundry this week. It’s just frustrating that those things make me so tired, you know?”

  I did know. I wouldn’t say it to her, but I think it was even more frustrating for an athlete. On any given day, I put my body through workouts that don’t seem humanly possible—unless I’m concussed. Concussions were a very different animal. “Yes. I do. The physical aspect anyway. And from experience I can tell you not to worry about it. Really, Karen. The more you sleep now, the faster you’ll heal. It’s what your body needs. Just give it another week or so. Trust me.”

  “I do. Trust you I mean.”

  I took her hand and laced our fingers together. “I’m glad.” We walked just a little bit farther in silence before I turned us around. “Tell me something about you that no one knows.”

  A couple of strands of her golden hair had escaped the confines of her ponytail holder as the night breeze blew around us. I reached up and tucked them behind her ear, noticing the cut on her face. Both of our stitches had been removed a few days ago, but the doctor said facial scars can take six months to a year to settle down. He didn’t think hers would be too visible unless she was in the sun a lot. One thing I knew about Karen was that she was
a freak about sun screen and skin treatment in general, so I figured her face had a better chance than most of healing well. I really didn’t care how mine healed. It would be mostly covered when my hair grew back anyway.

  “Something no one knows, eh? Let me think.” She stopped and looked up at the moon. “Well, one time when I was little, my friend Malcolm and I snuck into the principal’s office and put a whoopee cushion under the cushion on her seat. She took such good care of that cushion. She sewed it herself. It was kind of the joke of the school. You could hear her yelling down the hall when she sat down on it.”

  “Did you get caught? Did you want the world to know you got one over on Mrs. Whoever?”

  “Mrs. Snodgrass. Great name, eh? It fit her. But no. We never told a soul. Until now.”

  “Where’s Malcolm now? Do you keep in touch?”

  Her mouth turned down as a flash of grief rippled over her face. “He died on September 11th. He was with his father at work in the World Trade Center. Neither of them made it out. They never did find their bodies.”

  “I’m really sorry. My mother lost a close friend who was only there on a business trip. She actually did make it out, but died of complications from her injuries a couple of days later. It was a hell of a thing.” We were quiet for too long. Too quiet. The sorrow of our memories was overtaking us until Karen broke the spell.

  “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.