Get your head in the fucking game, Bower!
The Cobras won the face off. Too cleanly. Landon cracked his stick into the pipes when he found the puck behind him, gliding over the goal line.
"Shit, sorry about that." Another rookie, Swedish center Eric Hjalmar, skated over to pat Landon's pads with his stick. "Was trying to get it to Stills."
"Not your fault, man." Landon forced a smile. "I'm good. But you guys must be tired. Switch it up, ey?"
"Penalty's almost done."
Like I'm going to admit I need Mason out here. Still, he sighed with relief when the newbie line got traded for a fresh, more experienced one. With Ramos in front of him, he had time to catch his breath. Once Mason came out of the box, the puck spent a bit more time at the other end. Demyan skirted around the Sabres defense and easily slid a pass to Carter who was practically sitting in the lap of the Sabres' goalie. A backhand shot made the sirens wail.
2-1. How about you do your job and give your team a chance to pull ahead?
Right. He cleaned the snow from the blue ice with his stick blade and his chin jutted up. The press box drew his attention. He couldn't see Silver, but he knew she was up there. Probably wondering what the hell was wrong with him.
She's fine. Dean's with her.
The next play happened so fast, he didn't have a chance to react.
3-1.
"Hey, Bower." Callahan slid up to his side as the game stopped for a commercial break. "We're not playing fucking dodgeball. Got it?"
I got it. Landon nodded and cleaned the ice again with his stick. "I'm good."
"I hope so." Callahan's eyes narrowed. "One more and you'll be pulled. Which might be good, since apparently there's something on your mind more important than the game."
"I said I'm good."
"We'll see."
"Hey, Captain!" Carter slowly back skated to Landon's side. "Since we've got a sec to chat, I was wondering if you could show me how to tie up a woman with tits as big as Oriana's next time we go to the club. Is it possible?"
"Carter, seriously . . . ." Callahan shook his head. "Fuck off."
"I'm being serious!"
"After your stint with Silver? Kid, you're not touching my woman." Callahan slid backwards, his hand wrapped around his stick in a choke hold. "Chicklet will teach you what you need to know."
"Your woman, but . . . ." Carter cocked his head as though confused. "You know what, never mind. I'll ask Perron. I'm sure he'll get off watching her play with someone new."
"I'll do what?" Perron moved from the bench and stretched his legs. "You being a pain again, Carter?"
"Who me?" Carter shook his head. "Fuck no. We're a team. I respect you guys."
"You have a strange way of showing it." Callahan grumbled.
Carter nodded. "So do you."
Shit. Landon sighed and grabbed Carter before he could skate away. Out of hearing, he spoke low. "I get what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it. But fuck, man, I'm not all here. Callahan's right to tell me off. You guys need me on my game."
"Yeah, we do." Carter frowned in the shadows of his own cage. "What's up with you?"
"I may have made the Delgado family . . . a bit bigger."
"May have?"
"Yeah."
"Cool. How about we sit down for beers and cigars when you know for sure." Carter punched his shoulder. "Until then, give the woman something to cheer for, okay? The stress of watching you play like shit can't be good for her."
"Damn it." Landon laughed and punched Carter back. "You're right, you little fuck. I'm on this."
"Good. I'll go tie things up. You just do your thing."
"We're behind by two."
"I kinda noticed, buddy. Like I said, I'm gonna tie things up. Then I might let someone else get one in." Carter took Landon's water bottle and sent a spray into his open mouth. "We'll see."
Landon shook his head. "Generous of you."
"Hey." Carter winked. "We're all team players."
"Callahan was right. Fuck off."
Carter saluted. "Be glad to fuck on. Just say the word."
"Sure. You top her, and she says yes . . . ."
"Really?"
"No. And even if I was okay with it, you'd have to go through Richter."
"Ha! No thanks, pal." Carter took a few strides towards center ice, then glided back. "I bet you anything Callahan will be thrown out of the face off. I'll take over and snap the puck to the defense. Probably Mason. He's solid, but you good if he misses?"
"I already told you. I'm good." Landon tightened his grip on his stick. "Get out there."
"Sure. Just one thing." Carter tapped his gloved hand on his chin. "Luke Bower has a ring to it, don't you think?"
"Carter."
"Yeah?"
"You score now and I'll make you my next kid's goddaddy. Make it reel worthy."
"Reel worthy?" Carter said with a chuckle. "Don't make it hard or anything."
Seconds later, Carter scored a pretty, twisting, snap shot. He threw his hands up, urging the crowd to keep cheering. Then he held up one finger. Not the middle one.
Perron cupped a smooth pass, feinted towards Callahan, then sent a bullet of a pass to Carter. Carter caught his own rebound and redirected the puck into the open net.
Tied. And that is how it's done. Landon's blood sizzled in his veins. If the kid could put them back into the game that easy, Landon would damn well keep them there.
This is for you, Silver. Nothing else gets past me.
The third line gave him a chance to prove it. Tired from a long shift, they fumbled and dragged their skates as though slogging through sludge. Big bodies crashed the net. Landon slapped a snap shot away from the top corner of the net. Cleared his crease with a few shoves and threw himself over the goal line as his own defense kicked the puck in the wrong direction. He couldn't trap it. It skidded right onto Nelson's stick.
Springing up, Landon put his head in the path of the bullet fast shot. A clunk! on his helmet.
He gloved the puck as it fell.
Ears ringing with the cheers from the crowd, Landon grinned at his teammates as they surrounded him, thumping his helmet and smacking his pads with their sticks.
"Now that was reel worthy!" Carter gave him a one arm hug, then whooped loud enough to get the crowd going again.
That was what he was capable of. What the team deserved from him. His goddamned best. Whatever was thrown at him, whether it be the puck or something far more important, he could handle it. Now he just had to make Silver believe it.
* * * *
The phone was on silent, but Silver felt it buzzing in her purse. No way would she take her eyes off the game long enough to answer—now that she'd stopped covering them every time the puck came anywhere near Landon—but as soon as thing were tied up, and he looked a little more solid, she touched Dean's arm and told him she needed to . . . go.
He gave her a knowing smile before turning back to watch the fight. Sebastian and Dominik both going at it now with the Sabres' tough guys.
"This rivalry is going to be great for ratings," Dean said to Mr. Bolleau just as she walked out.
Damn, why didn't I think of that? She rolled her eyes as she made her way down the hall, pulling out her phone. All this work on promoting the team and I just had to tell them to turn the rink into the UFC!
Her urge to laugh dropped dead in her gut as she checked her missed calls. All but one from her father. The last from Anne.
She played Anne's message. "Silver, your father needs to see you. Please. He's not doing well. The doctors are saying . . . " Anne's words cut off with a sob. "I know you hate me, but I hope you'll come anyway. You know I wouldn't call if it wasn't important. He had a visitor and—you know he isn't supposed to have any stress! Maybe he'll feel better, seeing you. For once in your life, don't be selfish, he—"
Silver deleted the message and slammed her phone into her purse. Who the hell did that woman think she was? As if saying her father n
eeded her wouldn't be enough? Just the numerous calls, after a week without any, would have gotten her to at least call back to see what was going on.
Screw her. Who cares what she thinks? She hit the button to the elevator with the side of her fist and leaned against the wall beside it. Her father had to be okay. If he wasn't—damn it, she'd hung up on him! And she hadn't called or seen him since. The updates she'd gotten from his doctor told her he was doing well, but rather fragile Apparently the doctor fully supported Anne's decision to keep everyone away from him.
Except Anne of course.
Her palm itched with the need to grab a lollypop or—she breathed out a laugh—her vial of icing sugar? She delved back into her purse as the elevator doors opened, took out the candy and the vial, and tossed it all into the nearby trash, then ducked into the elevator just in time. Her purse seemed crazy light, but that was okay. Peering inside, she bit back a smile when she realized she'd accidentally tossed her two favorite shades of lipstick out with the candy.
"So, no more drugs or candy. No more alcohol." She ran her tongue over her teeth and cocked her head, looking at her reflection in the gold wall. "Guess I'll just have to shop to relieve stress. I'm going to need a few things."
Yeah, try to fit in a size 2 in another month.
Wrinkling her nose, she smoothed her hands over her flat stomach. Just over the last week, eating three meals a day—because of Dean—had gained her a pound or two. But she couldn't find it in her to care. Her body didn't belong to the spotlight anymore. And for some reason, that made her feel damn good.
Everything else though—well that scared her to death. She had to talk to Landon.
Right after I talk to Daddy. She stepped off the elevator and into the parking garage. Her heels scraped concrete all the way to her car. Uck, or, better idea. I could go home and crawl into bed. Hide under the covers for the next year. Sounds like a lot more fun to me.
Only, hiding wasn't an option. She'd put off dealing with her father, and speaking to Landon, long enough.
Welcome to adulthood, Silver.
No sending her regrets for the RSVP on that one.
For the first half of the drive, a weight seemed to have wrapped around her chest, like a big heavy chain with the ends dangling over her limbs. She flicked on the radio and quietly hummed along to a familiar dance tune. Another had her singing along. Domino, by Jessie, came on. She turned it all the way up and sang at the top of her lungs.
Things weren't all bad. She was in love with two men who loved her back. Whatever happened, that wouldn't change. She had to believe that.
She did believe that.
Anne met Silver at Daddy's front door and clasped her hands, staring at her with bloodshot eyes as she drew her inside. "I'm so glad you came. He keeps asking for you and . . . ."
Please say Oriana. Silver sighed when Anne didn't say anything. "And?"
"And your mother."
Fuck. "How bad is he, Anne? Honestly?"
"You would know if you'd visited." Anne blinked fast and her hands fluttered up to her throat. "Some days, he's himself. The same strong man he's always been. Other days . . . he rambles about the past. As though he's still there."
Nodding, Silver strode past Anne and up the stairs. She didn't stop until she reached the foot of Daddy's bed. And once there, couldn't take another step.
Her jaw locked. Her eyes stung. Pain welled in her throat and she had to look away.
This man couldn't be her father.
Dry, yellowed flesh covered the sharp bones of his face and sunk into hollow cheeks. His eyes were wet with tears and drool slicked the edges of the mask covering his mouth. His hands shook as he lifted them to remove the mask.
"My little doll." He gasped as though every word took more oxygen than he could spare. "You came."
"I'm here, daddy." She stumbled forward, hitting her knees on the floor by his side as she took his hand. She choked on a sob and pressed her lips to his cold fingers. "I'm sorry. I should have come sooner. I didn't know."
"It doesn't matter. You're here now." His lips twisted into a painful looking smile. "So beautiful. So like your mother. I had to see you—had to find a way to remember her face. You are the only thing we had together that was worth anything."
"But Oriana—"
"Isn't mine. I hoped I wouldn't have to tell you, but she wants the team. She wants what should have been Antoine's." His eyes narrowed and the tears fell. "It should have been her, you know that? She should have gotten in the car with your mother. Then we would still have him."
Her stomach turned. She shook her head. "You don't know what you're saying—"
"Yes I do!" He rasped in a breath. "I do. She tried to replace him, but she was nothing to me! It took me awhile to see it. To see her for who she is. She's another man's daughter. A man who always wanted what I had. We were friends once and we . . . we did things, shared things. I let him use your mother. I used his wife. And it destroyed both our marriages."
"Oriana looks just like Antoine. Like you." Rubbing her free hand over her face, she leaned closer and spoke fast. "Whatever you and mom did, it doesn't change that she's your daughter."
"She's not." His face reddened and he yanked his hand away. "Swear to me you won't let her take what's ours!" His chest collapsed and his eyes widened. "Swear it!"
"Daddy, let me get your nurse." She wanted to cover her ears as the machines attached to him started screaming. "She can—"
"Silver, Silver, you're all I have." He wheezed and reached around blindly. "Unless . . . ."
"Unless?"
"He claims to be my son. I don't believe it, but if he is—"
He? "Who, Daddy?"
The door opened and the nurse rushed in.
Daddy held up his hand. "If he is—"
"You have to go." The nurse waved Silver away from the bed. "Don't worry, this has happened before. The doctor will be here shortly."
"Let me finish!" Daddy fell back and gagged. His body convulsed.
The nurse injected something in his IV. She checked her father's pulse.
Silver covered her mouth with her hand.
"Hey." The nurse came to her and put her hand on Silver's shoulder. "It's not as bad as it looks. He gets like this when he's overexcited. It's not pretty, but he's not going anywhere. I'm sorry you had to see him like this."
"So he's not . . . ." Silver hugged herself and stared at her father. He looked dead. But the heart monitor showed his pulse, a steady rhythm, never slowing though it had sped up for a bit. "The doctor hasn't said how much time he has?"
"No. But the heart attacks seemed to have affected his mind. He has episodes, but his body is strong considering. You could come back tomorrow and he'll look much better."
"He's lost so much weight!"
"Well . . . ." The nurse winced. "That's because he refused to eat until your mother came to see him. I put in an IV, but it's hardly enough to keep a man of his size in top shape."
"Maybe I should stay." She didn't want to. Not if she had to hear him talking about Oriana like that. But she would if it would help. "Maybe, if he sees me when he wakes up, he'll eat."
"I would agree, but he curses you out about as often as he asks for you." The nurse's look was apologetic. "The only person that keeps him calm is Anne. I think the only reason she called you is because his last visitor upset him."
"Who was his last visitor?"
"A young man, he's still downstairs if you'd like to speak to him." The nurse patted her shoulder. "After that, I think you should go home. There's nothing else you can do for your father tonight."
Silver nodded and stood. She backed out of the room, a photo of her parents catching her eye somehow just the thing she needed to take that last step. They looked happy. She knew it was fake, she was old enough to see their marriage for what it had been, a man who wanted to own a beautiful woman and a woman who wanted a man who could give her an easy life. But there must have been a time where they'd had mor
e. Where they'd had something real.
At least, she hoped so. Her father must have loved her mother in some way if he still asked for her.
The house seemed bigger than she remembered as she walked down the long staircase. So empty. She tried to recall laughter and joy within these walls, but the closest she came was when it was just her and Oriana, playing when their father wasn't around. When he was home they'd had to be quiet. She couldn't remember much from back when Antoine was alive. Maybe a couple of times before he headed out with his sports bag, when she ran to the door to wish him luck and he'd ruffled her hair.
He'd called her a little doll too.
Movement to her side brought her back to the present and she stopped on the bottom step. For a split second, she saw Antoine and her blood ran cold.
Ford smirked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Shitshitshit. She shook her head and grabbed the railing. "No fucking way. No. You fucking fraud! Get the fuck out of my father's house! Get out!"
"Our father's house, sis." He lifted his tumbler of what looked like brandy in mock cheers. "And soon to be mine. I am the boy after all and he's got some old fashioned ideas. Soon as the DNA tests come in, I get everything. The house. The money." He took a gulp of liquor and laughed. "And the team."
"Like hell you will." She trembled as she strode towards him and slapped the glass out of his hand. It exploded against the floor. "That's why he's so messed up. You came here and made your bullshit claim and—"
"It's not bullshit. My dad finally told me everything. Why do you think I gave up on Jami? I didn't need her."
"You pathetic piece of shit. Do you seriously think you can con your way into my family?"
"I don't need to. And you know it, don't you?" He shook his head. "You saw it when you came down here. Face it, Silver. You're going to have to share."
"With my sister."
"Anthony says she isn't his. He doesn't have to give her fuck all."
"She looks just as much like our brother as you do." I did not just say that. She pressed her eyes shut. Trying to erase the image. Trying to deny what she'd seen. But she couldn't. "None of this matters. Daddy gave the team to me."
"And now he's giving it to me."
Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) Page 42
