Page 90 of Playoff
Alek
* * *
Surprisingly, I didn’t get a lot of questions from my teammates about the bruise on my jaw. Everyone knew about the animosity between the Johnson family and mine by now, and assumed that was the main issue, with JJ’s grandmother’s death the trigger. Except for Fitch and me, no one had any idea that JJ had an additional reason to want to punch my face.
I even got some undeserved sympathy, since no one thought he was right to take it out on me. I didn’t explain.
The trainers checked me out carefully, but I was fine. I hadn’t hit my head, and my body had more than enough padding to protect it. JJ had been rushed off, and after cooling down and showering, we all hung around longer than usual on a game day skate to hear that he’d broken his fingers.
Called it.
The locker room was quiet when that news came out. The team had lost Ducky, but that was in December and I’d been traded in to pick up the scoring slack. Now, this close to the playoffs, and past the trade deadline? The team couldn’t get someone else, except through call-ups from the Inferno, the farm team. JJ was not an easy player to replace, so there was going to be a lot of pressure on whoever they chose.
Game time, things were a mess. Coach had to switch around the D assignments, and the team knew all too well what had happened last time JJ was out of the lineup. He was one of those workhorse guys who rarely sat out a game for any reason. He hadn’t missed since they lost the Cup.
Petey, however, was not out like he had been for that last game in the finals, and he was the difference. We were outshot embarrassingly, but I managed to score a goal and Petey got the shutout, so we notched a win.
There were so few games left that this was big. It kept our playoff hopes alive.
I had to face the press after the game—I’d scored the only goal, and with my bruised jaw on display everyone wanted to know why JJ had punched me. But I’d been questioned by the press about uncomfortable things before and I’d learned to deflect.
“Denny,” the first guy called out. It was strange now to hear that nickname. The team had completely switched to Alek. “We saw JJ drop you to the ice and you’ve got that bruise on your jaw. What happened?”
Without intention, I rubbed the sore spot on my face. “You should ask him.” JJ had vanished after the skate, and no one wanted to harass someone who’d just lost his grandmother. Or they couldn’t find him, which was more likely.
“Is there still bad blood between the two of you because of your parents’ Ponzi scheme and the money stolen from the Johnsons?” was the next question. Another classic.
I shrugged. “I hope not. I lost money then as well, but it’s been ten years and we both know how important each game is at this time of year.”
Oops, hadn’t mentioned before that my parents had ripped me off. That got a lot of attention. I didn’t give them any more details, but based on the questions they asked about whether grief could have affected JJ, they’d already started to write a narrative.
I was fine with that. If JJ didn’t like it, he could tell them differently. But I was confident he didn’t want to talk about his sister to the press. And Jess wouldn’t like— I shoved thoughts of her into the no-fly zone in my head. I hadn’t blocked her, but I hadn’t responded to her pleas to talk. She didn’t have to spell it out—I knew the score. JJ would always come first. Hope the idiot appreciated her loyalty.
I was exhausted when I finally got back to the condo. A tough game, a tough session with the press, and no Jess.
Fitch brought out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “Thought this might help.”
“Yeah.” I hadn’t slept well last night, and I needed to get some hours in before we flew out on a road trip tomorrow.
My sleep wasn’t great, despite having one glass of whiskey too many. I missed Jess. Not just the sex, though that had been next-level. But I’d gotten used to talking to her, messaging her. I dragged myself out of bed in the morning, grateful that Fitch had coffee ready and was taking us to the airport.
“You don’t look so hot,” he said as we were driving up the 427.
“Thanks,” I answered dryly. Not like it was a surprise—I’d seen myself in the mirror.
“JJ, Jess or both?”
“Both.” Which was true, but the ratio was heavily tilted toward Jess. I could survive a teammate pissed at me—it wasn’t the first time. It hit harder now because we were close on this team. Even though I wasn’t used to it, I liked it. But no one had gotten as close to me as Jess had. Which was stupid on my part, because I knew better. I was easily left behind.
I sighed. That wasn’t fair to Jess. She could have avoided me once she knew who I was. Being with me made no sense but she’d kept coming back. If she’d been someone else, maybe we could have made it work.
But. A big but. The tie with her brother was stronger than anything else. Some families were like that. Not mine obviously, but I was glad Jess had someone she could count on. Despite the fight yesterday, I knew JJ was a good guy. He’d be happy to see her with someone, just someone more like him, not me.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Fitch asked.
“Hell no.”
“Then let’s talk about Detroit’s D-line.” That kept us going till we reached Pearson Airport and met the rest of the team for the flight.
