Heteronym

Chapter 44

The familiar cold air enveloped my face, the rest of my body weighed down under the heavy padding on my skin. The loud roar of the crowd echoed on the dome topped roof, amplifying the noise in my ears. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, my eyes already frantically watching the black puck on the ice. White jerseys clashed with black ones, each interaction attempting to pull my attention from the puck.

This is where I felt at home.

This is what I had worked so hard for. My dream had been to make it to the NHL and I had done it. It was hard to imagine my life going any other way. Who would I be if I never played hockey? I certainly wouldn't know Beck and that was the biggest blow to my heart. Maybe my mother never would have kicked me out and I'd still be living with her. Maybe I never would have been raped and maybe I never would have found out Finn was actually my brother and not a half sibling. Would I even be going for my doctorate?

I'd sacrificed a lot for this life but it had also given me so much. I wouldn't want to do it any other because I'm all honesty, I have no idea if I'd ever even be near as happy as I am right now.

One thing that never changed about hockey was the environment. I might be in dry California as opposed to humid and sticky New York but the ice felt the same and the rink felt familiar. It was my life source.

As much as my sport fueled me, it get my boyfriend's flame just as much. There was something magical about watching him in his element. Beck wasn't thinking about anything or anyone else except the guy in front of him and the puck. But at the same time, the back of his head was always pinging around his scenery, analyzing everyone's move before they even knew they were going to take them. Most people, including myself, couldn't even being to ah e the quick with Beckett Sampson did. There was a reason he was assistant captain his rookie year.

I had quick reflexes and good hand eye coordination; that's why I was a good goalie. I thought my options through but Beck was a fast and impulsive thinker. His quick logic never failed him because he didn't get stuck on useless facts or 'what ifs'. The Syrian's unique ability to see the most likely outcome before it happened made Beck the perfect analytical mind and that is why he dominated the sport at the capacity Beckett did.

I had come to grips with my reality. I didn't need to be remembered; I didn't need to have a legacy. But no matter what I did with this career, I would be the first woman in the NHL. I could be the best hockey player in history and people would still dispute my validity. I could be the biggest failure to grace the league and it would be what was expected of me. The reality of it was that I paved the way for other women and what I did now didn't matter. Sure, maybe I would have to be the best to prove women could actually last, but I couldn't afford to put that pressure on myself. Selfishly, this was about doing it to prove that I could play to the best of my ability. If that was failure then I was like hundreds of other rookies who failed regardless of the genitals between their legs.

But Beckett Sampson was something else.

He didn't want a legacy but he would undoubtably have one. No rookie had ever been as popular or talented as Beck their first year and I could easily see that precedent sticking for decades to come. I would give up my career for Beckett's without even thinking and not because I loved him, but because I loved this sport. Hockey deserved Beck and his talents need to reach their full capacity. Anything else would be a disservice to the sport.

In front of me, Taylor slammed into the black suited right winger. Our quick witted center easily used his momentary distraction to snatch the puck from the Kings player. The adrenaline in my veins hammered with anticipation as the strong headed player fired the vulcanized rubber across the ice diagonally, landing it in Ed's stick with ease. My grip on my stick stayed tight in paranoia, ready for the tides to turn against me at any second.

I watched as Beck took off down the ice at un unbelievable speed, already halfway to his destination before Ed could even think about receiving the puck.

I watched intently across the ice as Ed tried to fake his defender, the puck getting lost in the shuffle. A King's player grabbed the puck only to be stopped by Neil's stick as his flicked it away. The scramble for the puck ensued as it bounced off the white walls of the rink.

With his perfect placement, Beck snatched the puck and took a shot on goal. The goalie barely had time to move to the left corner before the disk flew in and the sound of victory filled my ears at an ear burstingly loud level. I'd be lying if I said luck didn't play a role in Beck being in the right place at the right time, but when he pulled his helmet off in victory, his jet black hair sexily falling over his dark skin as he shot our team a million dollar smile, in that moment I would believe he was God himself.

Beckett Sampson was going to be a legend, I just hoped I got to be there with him when it happened.