Page 79 of Married As Puck
I can swear he’s my father’s real son because of their mean streak. He raises his hand in a mock salute like he planned this. Did he? It will only make sense because this is the same person with whom he’s been taunting me with. Leave it to my messed up father to agree to Jack’s plans. I can’t believe they’re in cahoots.
Rage pulses through my skin but I take a deep breath to keep it from overwhelming me. If I react, he wins. That’s what he wants. That’s what they both want.
I skate faster, pushing the noise and their faces out of my head. For the next few minutes, the adrenaline courses through my veins as I chase, retrieve and pass. The crowd’s cheers keep me going too until the final intermission.
The buzzer sounds and we’re retreating to the locker room. The massive score screen lights up. At first, I thought it’s just another highlight reel. The usual, to keep the crowd pumped.
My blood runs cold when I see what it really is. A hush falls over the entire rink.
It’s surveillance footage of Jack.
He’s bending down over my gear bag, the one I came with to this game. His hands are on my skates, fiddling with something while looking over his shoulder, a smirk plastered on his face even in the grainy video.
“Well, well, well,” I remark under my breath. It’s a good thing Keith convinced me to carry an extra earlier which I’m currently using. No wonder the bastard was looking smug a few minutes ago. He probably thought his plan was working.
A woman among the fans boos and the others join in, a ripple of outrage rolling through the stands like a wave.
Phones come out everywhere, recording and taking snapshots. Reporters in the press box scramble to get a good view. The officials are barking instructions for it to be turned off.
And Jack. You should see how pale he looks. His smirk falters for the first time since I’ve known him. He tries to laugh it off,gestures like it’s a joke, but it’s too late. The charm’s gone, the mask ripped off in front of thousands.
“It’s not what it looks like,” he says in his defense as our teammates circle around him.
“Do you guys remember how he put me in the hospital!” he snaps. “I’m supposed to be the man in his position on the team, not him. Even after almost beating me to death, he gets walk?” he asks, scanning the faces anxiously, looking for someone to back him up.
“Unbelievable,” Reed mutters beside me, eyes locked on the screen. “Who would have thought?”
At least everyone sees him now for what he is. I should feel relieved, right? Finally justice will prevail but I’m still in shock. Today is unfolding differently from what I’d imagined. My head spins with my father’s blank face in the stands, Jack’s mock salute earlier and the media frenzy now at his downfall.
Coach storms over, shouting at refs. The officials scramble to contain the chaos. Some of teammates curse Jack out. The man himself is cornered by league officials, still trying to plaster on his grin like it’ll save him.
And me? My hands are shaking. My head hurts. I can’t afford to break own, at least not now.
This game is still on no matter what has happened, and the outcome is in my hands, and no video, no smirking bastard, no ghost of a father gets to steal this moment from me.
I lift my eyes, forcing myself to look away from the chaos, from Jack, from my father’s stone-cold stare. I search the stands, desperate for something else, anything else.
And I find her, My Brie. A strange emotion wells up in my chest at that admission.
Coincidentally, she’s looking right at me and smiles. I can interpret many things from that smile. It’s like she’s saying,‘you’ve got this.’
Something inside me steadies. The noise fades, the chaos blurs, and all I see is her smile. My pulse evens out. Alright, fine. Let’s do this.
30
The noise out here is deafening. My throat’s already hurting from screaming and cheering, but I don’t stop. It’s almost likeCameron is relying on me to win this match, and I’m not about to let him down.
I’m still reeling from the revelation of the last few minutes. Was this Keith’s way of handling it or did someone else step in to help? Whoever is responsible for uncovering this conspiracy deserves an award.
My smile grows wider when the officials drag him out. Jack maintains that casual swagger like he’s unfazed by what just happened.
“Good riddance,” I mutter, palms stinging as I cheer with the others.
My lips twitch into a grin almost instantly when my eyes find Cameron’s. The game is back on, and this is the finale.
Jack’s gone, the storm’s passed, and it’s just him and the game again. He nods at me and takes his position with his teammates on the rink.
The clock runs down to only a few minutes left, but the score is still tied. I’m biting my lips due to the nerves. Every pass, every crash of bodies, every sharp scream of blades on ice makes my heart want to jump out of my chest. Fans are on their feet, banners in the air, chanting and cheering, the whole place vibrating.
