If only.
He was truly MIA. When he’d gotten Lauren’s message, he’d looked at his watch and seen an hour before game time. The hotel was (sort of) connected to the complex where the arena was. So he just made a run for it.
Obviously they’d noticed. He knew the situation was really dire when the next text was from his agent. Where the fuck are you?
The car inched forward again. Then it stopped. The road in front of them was a sea of brake lights. He leaned over the seat to ask the uniformed driver, “Which way is the arena? I’m going to have to run for it.”
“I apologize, sir. You have good seats for the game?”
“You could say that.”
“That way.” The man pointed. “We’re three blocks north. You’ll see it when you clear those blocks.”
“Thanks,” Beacon said, opening the door in stalled traffic.
Then he ran.
? ? ?
He got back to the dressing room at seven forty-five, sweating like a racehorse.
“What the actual fuck?” Coach Worthington spat.
“I’m sorry,” he said, trotting toward his gear in the corner. He bent down and grabbed his ankles, stretching. His entire pregame warmup was shot to hell. His body was warm from the run, though.
“Where were you?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m here now.”
Coach actually growled. “It does matter. I had to turn in the starting lineup ten minutes ago. I put Silas on it because nobody could find your ass.”
Oh, shit. He straightened up slowly. “Okay. So Silas starts for a shift or two. Where is he?”
“Stretching.”
Think, Beacon. “The last time Silas started a game he didn’t get any notice, either.”
“I recall,” Coach snarled. It had been an awful game.
“The thing is?” Beacon said, thinking out loud. “This is a disruption for the other team, too. They won’t be expecting Silas.”
O’Doul joined the conversation. “I thought about that. They might take it as an opportunity—drop everything and rush the net. If they think Beak is injured, it will change their whole game. Beak’s fine, but they won’t believe it.”
“Because only idiots would put in their backup guy to start game seven,” Coach pointed out. He still looked surly, but he also looked intrigued.
“Yeah,” Doulie agreed. “Putting Silas in isn’t something you’d do unless you were desperate.”
“Unless your goalie went fucking MIA at the worst possible moment.”
Beacon tried to ignore the tidal waves of anger that Coach threw out. He lifted a foot up onto the bench and stretched his hamstring.
“Let’s just ride this for a little while and see how Silas holds up,” Doulie said. “Beak will take his time getting ready. Silas starts. If he gets into trouble, Beak steps in immediately. But in the meantime, the front line is gonna play hard and try to capitalize on the confusion.”
Beacon kept his mouth shut and stretched the other hamstring. He was too far in the doghouse to say so, but he thought Doulie had a point. The worst thing that could happen would be an early goal against Brooklyn. That would suck, but the other team would assume they’d just gained a night’s worth of momentum.
That’s when he’d skate out to replace Silas, fit as a fiddle, breathing new life into their defensive game. Their momentum wouldn’t be worth a nickel if it was based on a misunderstanding.
Really, it was an intriguing idea.
“Let’s talk strategy,” Coach grumbled. “Where’s Beringer? Castro! Trevi! Get over here.”
Beacon left his pads at his locker and went to find Silas, who was facedown on a mat in full gear, stretching his hips.
“Finally,” Silas said as soon as he walked in.
“Don’t get up.” Beacon walked right around in front of him and got down into the same position. They were face to face.
“Are we gonna make out here or what?” Silas grumbled.
“I get that you’re pissed at me for doing a runner. But you’re still between the pipes when the game starts. Sorry you didn’t get any notice.”
Silas chewed his lip. “My name is on the card, huh? So Coach has to put me in for a couple of minutes.”
“Yeah, but I want you in there longer.”
“What the hell for?”
Beacon reached up and punched him in the shoulder. “To guard the net, moron. Since you’re on the card, Detroit thinks there’s something wrong with me, right?”
“Is there?”
Beacon shook his head. “No. I had a little freak-out thinking something was wrong with my kid. And I thought the hotel was closer than it really was. It’s a long, boring story. But I got us into this weird situation so Doulie wants to have some fun with it.”
“It’s only fun until someone loses a goal.”
Beacon grinned. “You’re going to get scored on tonight. So am I, probably. But you’re going to get scored on first.”
“Oh, joy.”
“I’m not kidding.” It came out a little gruff and Silas’s young brow furrowed. “You’re starting this game. And there’s gonna be an ugly moment when you can’t hold them off. The lamp is gonna light behind you and it’s going to feel like shit. Your job is to make sure that happens later instead of sooner. That’s all. You’re playing until one goal gets through. Game seven in the play-offs. Make it count.”
“Okay.” Silas nodded, his jaw set. “All right.”
“Good man.” Beacon maneuvered his hips to stretch out.
“Detroit is going to assume either that you’re injured or that we’re insane.”
“They’ll think whatever they think. Just do what you’ve been doing in practice, bud. This is gonna be fun.”
“Wonder if my mom is watching tonight.” He chuckled into the mat. “It will be interesting.”
“Let’s go!” said Hugh from the doorway. “On the ice, Silas.”
“You got this!” Beacon called from the mat. “I’ll be on the bench just after the game starts.”
Silas got up, gave him a salute and strode away.
? ? ?
Beacon suited up just as soon as the rest of the guys went out for the pregame announcement and the quick warm-up skate. When he tossed his phone into his locker, the screen held a text from Lauren. We’re here and we’re fine and we love you!
There were three heart emojis, but he was more thrilled with the we in that sentence. He strapped on his pads knowing everything was fine in half his universe, at least.
But it was time to do battle.
It was odd to lace up his skates in an empty dressing room. He hadn’t been the backup in ten years. He didn’t show his face until two minutes of game play had elapsed. Then he walked very slowly down the chute and toward the bench, where his teammates gathered.