Page 119 of Home Game

Did I really make her happy? Lately, something had been bothering Zoey. She had alluded to it the morning after her birthday party, promising that she’d talk about it, but we hadn’t discussed anything yet.

“Heads up, Parker,” Mica said. The ref was standing between the two players, about to drop the puck. I needed my head in the game. I vowed that the moment I had a chance, I would get Zoey to talk about what was bothering her.

“Nice win,”I fist bumped with other members of my team, before stepping off the ice to head down the tunnel. I walked on the rubber mat, towards the locker room, past the gated wall of fans, all eager to get an autograph.

“Smile, Ryan.”

I glanced up to see Zoey posed with her phone, taking a photo of me.

“Ryan, can I have your autograph,” some kid asked.

Sometimes we stopped for fans, sometimes we didn’t. It depended on our mood. Since Zoey was there, I decided a few wouldn’t hurt. I tucked my gloves under my arm and signed someone’s stick.

“Can you smile?” Zoey complained. “This is for Instagram.”

I flashed her a smile. Her responding smile was small and so cute, it made me want to reach over the gate and kiss her.

Where had that thought come from?

I shook my head and moved a few feet down to talk to anotherfan. Mica and Jensen behind me, also stopped to sign a few autographs.

I glanced up to see if Zoey noticed Jensen. Instead, she stood still, looking over her shoulder. Fear etched her features. I paused and looked down her line of vision to see what was inspiring such a strong level of emotion. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blur of pink. Zoey was taking off, pushing through the crowd, fighting to get past all the fans.

Another motion. A man with a black coat and long greasy hair pushed his way out of the crowd to go after her.

“What the fuck?” My heart skipped a beat as I froze, making sure my eyes were not lying.

“Zoey,” I called.

She didn’t turn back. She raced across the Concord and then disappeared into the women’s washroom. Three seconds later, the man burst through the doors, following her.

I didn’t think. I grabbed the fence with one hand and in one motion, hopped over. The crowd backed away.

“Out of my way,” I pushed against a man who refused to move.

“Parker,” Mica called behind me.

I didn’t respond. My only concern was about every passing second that Zoey was alone with that man. In my skates, I ran on the cement, uncaring that I was destroying my blades. I pushed open the bathroom door so hard, it ricocheted off the wall.

“Zoey,” I yelled, rounding the corner. The room was empty except for a long line of stall doors. I stalked along, pushing each door open with violence. Each stall was empty. My hand hit the door of the last stall, the handicapped stall, and it didn’t budge.

“Zoey, open this door.”

I heard a whimper. Rage and fear blinded me. Using my shoulder, I pushed my full weight against the door. I felt the lock snap and then my body was pushing into the stall. I caught my balance. There in the corner, the man stood, his arm around Zoey’s neck, his dirtyfucking hand over her mouth. Her big blue eyes looked at me with fear.

The roar came out of me like a savage. I swung the base of my stick, catching him on the temple. His head snapped back with the impact. I yanked her out of his grip.

“Go,” I said, my harsh voice barely recognizable.

She ducked under my arm and disappeared from sight.

The man held his head. “My head. You hit my head.”

“Who are you?”

“Fuck off."

I grabbed him by the lapel of his coat and not caring that his body was knocked roughly against the bathroom stall as I dragged him out and threw him to the floor. Then I landed on top of him with all my weight. He grunted in pain.

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