Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 61705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“The pretty boy wants to fight?” he says, his Russian accent thick. “Let’s go.”
“You got big balls for a guy who’s about to get his ass kicked.”
I can hear his sneer inside his mask. He drops his gloves and looks out at the crowd, which is now roaring and on its feet.
I don’t fight on the ice often, but when I do, it’s not for show. I charge toward Krupin, grab a fistful of his jersey at the collar, and drive several punches into his face. He wraps an arm around my neck and tries to bury his face against my chest.
Jerking him back, I pummel him a few more times. The noise of the crowd is deafening, and I can’t hear what he says as his helmet comes off and he bends over, trying to escape another blow to his face.
He gets in one good punch to my eye; I get in more than a dozen to his face. Once in the penalty box, I get a chance to catch my breath. Krupin looks like a baby who just got its candy taken away. What a fucking blowhard.
I would’ve gone a round with anyone for boarding me like Krupin did, but he earned an extra few hits for doing it while Abby and the kids were watching. No one’s getting away with that shit.
We win the game 4-2, which is cause for celebration in the locker room. My eye is bruised and a little swollen, but not bloody. I ice it to reduce the swelling because I don’t want the kids to worry when they see it.
I do one locker room interview, then shower and head out to meet Abby and the kids.
Emerson races toward me, wrapping her arms around my thighs.
“Good game, Uncle Luca!” She looks up at me, beaming.
We walk over to the others and my eyes immediately find Abby’s; after what happened in this hallway last time she came to a game, I need to know she’s okay. When she smiles and hugs me, the tension leaves my body.
“Awesome fight,” Jack says, nodding with appreciation.
“Are we going out for dinner?” Cora asks me.
I look at Abby. “I need to go have a drink with the team, it’s a tradition after the season opener. I won’t be long. Can I meet you guys at a pizza place?”
Abby’s brow furrows slightly. “I think I should take the kids home. We can order pizza when we get there.”
“Everything okay?” I ask her, searching her eyes to see if there’s a problem.
She nods and puts an arm around Jack. “Jack’s really tired.”
Something’s not right. Abby sounds worried.
“Hey guys?” I look between the kids. “Do you remember Georgie from the front office?”
Cora nods. “The one with red hair.”
“Yeah. If you go all the way to the end of the hall, she’s down there. Ask her to give you each a puck.”
They walk down there together, Cora holding Emerson’s hand. I turn to Abby.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“I’m worried about Jack.” She frowns slightly. “He seems exhausted even though he got plenty of sleep last night, and he has a bump on his head.”
“A bump? Like he hit it on something?”
Abby shakes her head. “No, it’s small and kind of hard. He asked me if I knew what it was, but I have no idea.”
I sigh heavily. “Can you stay here with the kids while I go find our team doctor? She can take a look and tell me if I need to take him to see the pediatrician.”
Abby nods. “Of course. We’ll be out here.”
I go back into the locker room and find our trainer, Hal, who helps me locate Andrea, our new team doctor.
When I tell her what’s going on, she says, “Bring him in and I’ll take a look. Meet me in the training room.”
I appreciate that Abby cares enough about Jack to worry about him, but I’m sure he’s just a worn-out eight-year-old who played too hard at school today and then had a late night because of the game. This will be an easy way to put her mind at ease.
When I bring Jack into the training room, Andrea has him sit on the table the trainers use for players.
“How old are you, Jack?” she asks my nephew.
“Eight.”
She listens to his heart and lungs, checks his pulse, and examines the spot on his head, then feels his armpits and neck.
“And you’re feeling tired?” she asks him.
“Yeah.”
Andrea smiles at him. “You did great.”
“Everything good?” I ask her.
She lowers her brows and meets my gaze. “I have some concerns.”
“Do I need to get him into the doctor Monday? Or can it wait that long?”
“I think we need to go to the hospital,” she says. “He needs a full exam and blood work.”
“Jack, can you go wait with Abby? I’ll be right out, okay?”