Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Went back to Singapore?” I guess. She’d moved there with a boyfriend and had made a trip back to try to snag Bowie Jane.
“I’m guessing she’s afraid of the attempted kidnapping charges I want to press against her,” he says with a dry laugh.
My eyebrows rise high. “Are they going to charge her with that?”
Foster’s lips press flat as he shakes his head. “No. It would be a hard case to prove, since she really didn’t get Bowie Jane out of the house.”
“Because Mazzy stopped her,” I point out.
“True, but honestly, I’m okay with the fact she’s gone from the country and we can use this little stunt against her to get full and permanent custody.”
I grin at my buddy, who I’m happy as hell for. “You just said we.”
His frown speaks to the level of perplexity. “Huh?”
“You said we, as in you and Mazzy can get full custody.”
“Slip of the tongue,” he corrects, but then grins at me. “But yeah… she’s in this with me.”
“I’m glad, man.” I clap a hand on his shoulder. “I know things have been crazy but you got the girl and the cute little kid on top of that.”
“I’m well aware of how blessed I am,” Foster murmurs, a gentle smile on his face as his thoughts are clearly on his two girls.
“What’s up, boneheads?”
Foster and I turn to see Rafferty Abrams approaching us. He’s a defenseman, same as me, and a newcomer to the team, although he plays on the third line. Foster and I have been hanging out a lot with him, as well as Atlas Karolak and North Paquette. I suppose it’s only natural for us to band together since we’re the new guys on the team.
Well, except for Penn. He hasn’t bonded with anyone and that doesn’t appear to be changing anytime soon. Five weeks into the regular season and he’s still as reclusive as ever when he steps foot outside the arena.
And in the arena, he’s focused solely on hockey and doesn’t interact on a personal level with anyone. Want to talk about how to extend play in a tight checking environment, he’ll talk until he’s blue in the face. Ask him to join you for a beer after a game and he shuts down cold. No one can figure the dude out, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. He’s putting up stellar numbers and is so far ahead in the points right now, I doubt anyone will catch him, barring a season-ending injury, if he keeps up at this pace.
I tap my knuckles on the wooden bench so as not to jinx the team.
The rest of our players pour in and we all dress in our practice gear. Tomorrow’s game is an important one. The Cold Fury are two-time defending Cup champions, the last win coming just four years ago, and they still have a tight roster. While we’re putting up impressive numbers all around, it would be a boost to this newly formed team to beat the former champions.
Coach West arrives and reads from his iPad the list of drills we’ll be doing today, as well as the specifics of what he wants each line to work on. We’ll start by watching some video before we hit the ice, narrowing in on the three Cold Fury lines we’ll be battling against. We’re all listening intently when Callum walks into the dressing room. He hovers behind Coach, looking around the space until his eyes zero in on Van Turner. He’s also a third-line defenseman who joined the team late last season after coming out of retirement and is one of the best veteran players in the league.
“Turner,” he calls out, and Coach West turns in surprise to see Callum there, pointing at Van. Normally our GM doesn’t make appearances at practices. “Your wife’s trying to get in touch with you.”
All eyes turn toward Van, who pales at the proclamation. He dives for his phone in his cubby, muttering curses. “Fucking had it on vibrate.” We all watch silently as his fingers fumble with the screen and then he curses some more. He makes a call and we all listen shamelessly as it connects. “Simone? Are you okay?”
Whatever she says is loud enough he winces and slightly pulls the phone from his ear.
“Okay, baby… I’m on my way.”
Van disconnects and looks at the phone as if it’s going to explode before he lifts his head to all of us waiting. A huge grin breaks out on his face. “Simone’s in labor.”
A rousing cheer goes up as we’ve all been waiting for this. She’s still a few days out from her due date but we’ve got bets riding on when she delivers. I’m out of the running because I thought she’d go late, but Atlas fist pumps and whispers, “If she goes the average length of time for labor, I’ve got a good chance to win the pool.”