Bury the Hatchet

Chapter Twenty-Seven - Bury the Hatchet

HUNTER

I doubted I would like leaving Tallie behind at this point even if Lance wasn't out of jail and acting like a lunatic. But considering that was exactly what was happening, I had a hard time getting my ass to the airport with the team the next day.

But I went.

Tallie had her father, and both Dennis and Nathan were now officially on the job. She wasn't alone, and it didn't hurt that she was now more willing to accept that Lance had officially gone off the deep end and was out to hurt her, so she was far more likely to be aware and cautious if and when she went out.

So I left.

And it was torture.

I talked to her as often as possible while the Thunderbirds were on the road, usually multiple times a day, and definitely every night before I went to bed. I needed to hear her voice and reassure myself that she was all right or else I couldn't get to sleep.

I talked to her father on multiple occasions, and to her bodyguards at least twice a day, too. They filled me in on anything suspicious, even the tiniest things that neither she nor I were likely to notice, such as unusual cars prowling the neighborhood. Dennis and Nathan took it a lot further than simply telling me there'd been an unfamiliar vehicle around, too. They ran the plates and did whatever background checks they could on the registered owners. I rested a bit easier at night knowing they were keeping an eye on her.

No matter how many times I talked to Tallie and her security team, though, I was a cranky bastard any time I was away from her. It was partially due to the simple fact that I missed her, but worrying about her safety was the far bigger factor in my moodiness. The guys complained about my PMS, said they hoped it was due to me being a newlywed and I'd eventually move past it because I was impossible to deal with. I told them I couldn't make any promises about that and I might just stay a sullen bastard forever.

Weeks went by without any other reminders of Lance and his vendetta against Tallie, though, and we almost forgot about him entirely.

Almost. There was always the thought of him lurking at the back of my mind, but soon he was no longer front and center.

With the season underway, it didn't take long before my life was overwhelmed with responsibilities surrounding the team. We started the regular season with an abysmal record of eight straight losses in October, including one against my former team, the Portland Storm. I'd never seen so many pucks get by me in such a short amount of time.

I'd been sure we would be horrible, and we absolutely were. The team was slow to catch on to Spurs's system, and we were all still getting to know each other and how to play together. It didn't help that only two of our top six forwards would legitimately be considered top six forwards on any other team, and the two guys who made up our best defensive pairing were far better suited as a third and fourth D. Admittedly, some of those guys had the potential to grow into the type of players who would suit their current roles, but looking at us now, it didn't seem likely to happen any time soon. To call us mediocre would be a gross exaggeration. At this point, we didn't even belong in this league.

We couldn't keep the puck out of our own net, and we could hardly score. The good part about that was that it meant I wasn't experiencing too many heart attacks every time the fucking war drums started up in home games. The bad part about it was that, instead of trying to get their shit together and play like a team, almost every guy on the ice was trying to prove his worth by fighting.

It was the same kind of shit you'd expect to see in the minor leagues. When a guy couldn't hack it, he thought he could increase his value in the eyes of the decision makers by standing up for his teammates or some other shit like that, regardless of whether there was any good reason for the fight. Hell, even Zee—a guy who was typically as coolheaded and businesslike as possible out on the ice—fell prey to it in a game against the Blackhawks, picking a fight with Andrew Shaw. Yeah, Shaw was always willing to drop his gloves, but that wasn't the point. There was no reason our captain needed to get into it just to spark the team. But he did.