A Perfect Distraction(58)
What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never lost concentration like that before. Fans had been yelling crap at him for years—he’d always blocked it out. Yet one angry look from Maggie and he’d been thrown off balance like a damn rookie.
As the team prepared to take the ice, Jake squared his shoulders. He wouldn’t think about Maggie for the rest of the game. Focus on winning.
Just before they stepped out, Ike growled, “Keep your mind out of your shorts for the next twenty minutes.”
Jake nodded sharply, then skated into position.
The second period was hard fought with possession swinging back and forth. Just before the intermission, Jake tipped the puck to JB, who banged it in the net for his first NHL goal.
“Glad you’re back in the game,” Tru said as they walked to the locker room.
“Sorry about earlier. It won’t happen again.”
Tru studied him closely. “Bad memory?”
He shook his head, unwilling to explain.
“Why don’t you get laid and do us all a favor?” Ike muttered.
Anger surged. “It’s got nothing to do with Maggie,” he lied.
“Yeah, right.”
Jake glared at Ike. His friend backed off.
He returned to the ice for the final period with renewed determination. His focus was complete, his concentration intent.
The Cats went ahead with a couple of quick goals, making the period even more frenetic. As the Senators tried to claw the score back level, Jake and Tru were pressed into extra shifts.
With seven minutes to go, Jake knew Ottawa needed a change of momentum. “They’ll send Stemgarder out soon,” he panted to Tru as they climbed back over the boards.
“Yeah. He’ll want you to drop the gloves.”
“I don’t fight. He’ll have to pick someone else.”
Tru laughed. “Get real.”
Jake’s gaze flicked to the stands. The last thing he needed was for Maggie to see him fight. But he realized with a sinking feeling it was inevitable.
He’d barely got back on the ice before Stemgarder goaded him to go.
When Jake ignored him, the goon chased him, crashing him into the boards. Jake got up, told Stemgarder to do an anatomically impossible act then skated off.
Back at the bench, he squirted water over his face and rotated his aching shoulder.
Tru groaned. “Stemgarder’s calling you a turtle.”
“I’m no damn coward!” That challenge left him no choice.
Jake headed back out, his heart heavy.
As the puck dropped, Stemgarder shoved him, sneering.
Gloves dropped. Sticks scattered. Helmets came off. Fists flew.
The referees circled. The crowd was on its feet screaming. Players on both benches banged their sticks against the boards.
A punch bounced harmlessly off his pads. Then one caught him under the chin.
Enough. Time to put this jerk down.
Two sharp punches. Stemgarder wobbled. Tried to retaliate and missed.
Uppercut. Right hook. The goon hit the ice.
Victory.
Jake gave Stemgarder a succinct assessment of his sexual preferences while the refs separated them. He tried to avoid glancing at the stands as he skated to the penalty box but couldn’t resist. His heart contracted.
Maggie’s seat was empty.
His gaze scanned the section. Movement at the top of the stairs caught his attention.
Maggie was marching up the steps with Emily.
For a moment, he thought they might be going to the bathroom. But they had their coats on and Emily kept turning back to look at the ice.
They were leaving.
He’d won the skirmish on the ice. But he’d lost Maggie.
* * *
AM I THE only sane person in the building?
Maggie was definitely the only one not to take pleasure in the fight, she thought as she pulled her reluctant daughter toward the exit onto the concourse.
The noise level was deafening. Everyone was on their feet screaming. Fans banged their fists on the glass while those in the balconies stamped. There was a raucous cheer as Jake and the other bloke skated toward the Sin Bin.
Then play resumed as if nothing had happened.
“Why aren’t we watching the game?” Emily’s voice echoed in the near-deserted concourse. “We’re going to miss the end.”
“I know, Em, but I didn’t like the way things were going.”
A minor understatement.
Maggie had sworn that Emily would never be exposed to violence again. Though she’d prevented Lee from taking out his “bad moods” on their daughter, it hadn’t been possible to shield Emily totally. That final night had been the first time Lee had touched his daughter in anger. The first and last. Thankfully, Emily hadn’t been hurt. Maggie had got between them and taken the brunt of the contact. She’d never let anything frighten her daughter again.