More Than a Game (4 page)

The presentation of her game to her boss went extraordinarily well. He really liked the idea and was even more excited when she told him that Shane had agreed to beta test it and smooth out any wrinkles before its release.

“Is he going to endorse it?”

“Remains to be seen. He wants to see how the final product turns out before he considers committing his name to it.”

“Understandable. You’d best come out with one fantastic game then, hadn’t you?”

“I suppose I had.”

“Good girl. Get to work on development. I’ll expect weekly updates on progress.”

“Will do,” Leslie replied as she left the office. Picking up her phone, she called Shane and told him the good news. He was elated for her and suggested that they go out and celebrate later.

“I’ve got a game, but we can go out afterwards.”

“It depends on how you smell.”

“Hopefully the showers are working again,” he laughed. “Though I have to admit that I enjoyed still being able to smell you when I got home last night. I may have to stock up on that body wash so I’m surrounded by you all the time.”

“I’m sure that won’t alarm your teammates at all in the shower room.”

“Guys do stranger things in that locker room than use women’s shower gel.”

“I’m sure I don’t want you to elaborate on that.”

“Most likely. So, can you come to the game? I can leave you a VIP ticket at the will-call office so you can sit down in the private box behind the player cage. You’ll be at rink level and I can look at you from time to time when I come back to the box.”

“Sure. I’ll be there. What time?”

“Game starts at seven, but you’ll need to collect your ticket by six thirty.”

“I will see you tonight then.”

“See you then, Leslie. I’m looking forward to it already.”

Leslie found that she felt positively giddy the rest of the day. She was looking very forward to seeing him tonight, both playing the game and after it. As much as she had resisted, she found that it felt good to care about someone again, though she wasn’t entirely sure what the true nature of her feelings might be. As much as she’d like to think they were of a romantic nature, there was the possibility that she, too, was just lonely and gravitating toward a kindred soul.

“Hi, I’m Candy,” a young woman in the VIP box said to her as she sat down next to her.

“Leslie,” she replied, extending her hand toward the girl in polite greeting. She wasn’t the sort of girl Leslie would normally run across in her circles. Her short, platinum blond hair was spiked with streaks of pink and blue. The low-cut blouse she wore revealed much more of her than Leslie needed to see and tattoos that seemed haphazard in nature. Her jeans appeared more painted on than so much worn.

“I’m the goalie’s wife,” Candy revealed. “Who are you here for?”

Leslie suddenly felt like an awkward hockey groupie as she told her that she was a friend of Shane’s. The girl seemed surprised and smiled at her broadly, revealing a diamond in one tooth. Leslie tried not to stare at it as she wondered how it was affixed.

“Shane never invites people to games that I know of. You must be a very special friend. In the two years he’s been with the team, I’ve only ever known him to bring his mother.”

“He’s been helping me develop a game app for hockey,” Leslie said, downplaying her relationship with him, then realizing that there was really nothing to downplay. For all intents and purposes, they were merely friends. Interested friends, perhaps, but friends nonetheless. She didn’t want to get any rumors started that weren’t true.

“He’s a good guy,” Candy said.

Leslie was glad when they began announcing players and launched the national anthem so that she could bring the conversation to an end. Though Candy seemed nice enough, she also seemed to talk a bit much for Leslie’s quiet nature. They turned their eyes toward the ice as players skated out upon the announcer calling out their names. A huge cheer went up when Shane hit the ice and she felt a twinge of something that seemed like pride as she joined in.

As the game got underway, she noted a particular player that seemed to be giving Shane trouble. The crowd booed as he pinned Shane against the opposite wall and visibly punched him in the ribs, but the officials were focused on another incident and didn’t call the penalty. Still, the crowd was very vocal in their displeasure.

The following period, the same player shoved Shane against the Plexiglas just in front of the VIP box. Leslie could see the pained look on his face clearly, though she couldn’t see whether he had been hit again from the angle he was at. Candy yelled at the officials to pay attention as Shane turned and shoved him away, skating angrily back into position.

By the end of the same period, a fight had broken out between the two players and the officials finally called a penalty – against Shane! The crowd was livid, shouting insults at the officials as Shane sat in the penalty box. A loud cheer went up when he was released and returned to the game. Looking up toward Leslie, he shrugged and smiled wearily before play started again.

Play continued until, with only minutes to go in the game, something horrific happened. It was hard to tell exactly what happened, but from where Leslie stood at the edge of her seat, she saw the same player skate into Shane, sending him flying up from the ice. Both players lost their balance and came down on the ice, almost in a pile on top of each other. Leslie gasped as they lay there for a moment and then Shane began to get to his feet, seeming disoriented as he stumbled a few steps and then caught himself on the nearby barrier.

Gasps and shrieks filled the arena as people began pointing toward the other player, who remained on the ice below. Leslie looked away from Shane long enough to see the puddle of blood that had begun to coagulate in a macabre-looking mass near his head. Though she couldn’t see where it was coming from, it was obvious that he was seriously injured. Medics made their way quickly onto the ice, one checking Shane as several surrounded the downed player and examined him before moving him onto a gurney to take him off of the ice for further assistance.

Now, Leslie could see one of them holding a heavy gauze medical pack against the player’s neck. The gauze was stained with blood from whatever wound he had sustained, but it was hard to determine how badly he was hurt. Leslie had heard that head wounds often appeared worse than they really were due to the increased amount of bleeding present, so it was hard to say how bad things were. Still, the fact that the player seemed to be unconscious didn’t bode well for his situation. She became dimly aware that the announcer was speaking and tuned out the noise of the crowd to listen.

“It appears that Shane O’Hannon is on his feet and okay, but the officials have made a decision to eject him from the game for unsportsmanlike conduct. Player Harrison Clarke will be taken to a nearby hospital for treatment of a neck wound resulting from a cut by O’Hannon’s skate.”

Leslie gasped. This was bad. She wasn’t sure how bad, but being ejected from the game for injuring another player so badly wasn’t going to play well with the game authorities or the press. Shane made his way back to the box to his team and sat down, a haunted look on his face. After the ice was cleared of the horrible dark puddle, the game resumed and the last few minutes played out with Shane’s team winning the game. The crowd remained almost completely silent and filed out of the building as Leslie continued to sit in her seat, unsure of what to do.

“It’ll be okay, honey,” Candy told her. “They all have bad nights. Tomorrow is a fresh day and this will pass. I’m sure the other player is fine.”

Leslie thanked her and stood up, making her way slowly down the steps and toward the entrance that led to the hallway outside the locker area. She would wait for Shane there for a bit and if she didn’t see or hear from him, she would just go home. It seemed like forever as she stood there waiting with no word from him, but other loved ones were waiting as well, including Candy, who was now on the other side talking with some other young girls that seemed more her usual crowd. It was just as well, as she didn’t think she could hold a conversation at the moment. Finally, Shane emerged from the locker room and made his way to her.

Leslie noted that some of the people in the hallway steered clear of him, while others clapped him on the back and spoke words of support and comfort. He nodded at them with an empty gaze, making his way directly to her and stopping in front of her, looking completely dejected.

“Bad night, huh?” she said to him.

“Something like that. I’m afraid I won’t be very good company tonight, after all. Perhaps we could celebrate another time.”

“I understand. I can get myself home and will check on you later.”

“I’d rather you come with me. I’m not in much of a celebratory mood, but I’d very much not like to be alone right now. It would mean a lot if you could just keep me company.”

“Of course I will,” she told him, reaching up to caress his cheek.

He smiled weakly and took her hand in his, kissing it softly as he wrapped his other hand around her waist and walked with her down the hallway amid whispers of those that remained. She was dimly aware of the flash from a camera as they made their way toward the back entrance, where a guard stopped them and a young publicist stepped forward to speak to him.

“You can’t go out that way, Shane. It’s packed with reporters wanting a statement. Coach has already given them one on your behalf and on behalf of the team, but they want to hear from you. Coach said to tell you not to speak with them just yet. Let it die down overnight and we’ll have a planned statement for you tomorrow. Give me your keys and I’ll have your car taken around to the underground entrance.”

Shane handed her the keys and she handed them off to a young man standing behind her. He trotted off and she nodded toward Shane, who turned to follow her down a side corridor that led to wherever this secret exit was they were being redirected toward. Leslie couldn’t help but wonder why they were making such a big deal of this. She understood that a player was hurt, perhaps even badly, but it had been an accident and from where she had been sitting, one that he had caused himself.

“Alright, Shane. Get some rest. I’m going to call you later with a phone number so that you can personally call the hospital and check on Clarke. We want it on record that you showed concern about him and phoned to check on him.”

“Of course I’m concerned! Why wouldn’t I be?” Shane barked at her. Leslie jumped a little at the unexpected outburst and then looked down at the floor, waiting for the conversation to end. She felt incredibly out of place here and that was reflected in the eyes of the publicist, who was looking at her when she looked back up.

“Shane, I know you are. I just need to make sure the public is aware of it, as well. That is important right now.”

“Right,” Shane replied as the young man walked in and told Shane the car was outside, still running.

“Shane!” the woman called after him, but he was already storming out to the car, with Leslie in tow.

“Leslie, can you drive a manual transmission car?” he asked as they approached the car.

“Yes,” she said uncertainly.

“You might want to drive us home then. I don’t think I should be behind the wheel. I feel a little out of sorts.”

“No problem, Shane.”

They drove back to his house in near silence, Shane looking out the window as the city lights faded and his house appeared ahead of them. Much to her chagrin, there were news media lined up all along the outside of the gate, but the entrance was clear, with two cops standing there to prevent anyone from blocking the gate. They appeared surprised when the gate behind them began opening and turned quickly to see Shane’s car approaching. Two more cops appeared from nearby and stood to either side of the car as they slowly pulled inside the gate amid reporters practically climbing on the car to take photos and shout questions at them.

“What a bunch of nonsense,” Shane commented under his breath.

Inside the house, he poured them a drink, carrying the wine bottle with them to the game room where he started up the Pac-Man game.

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a diversion for a while,” he told her.

“At least you picked a game that I have a chance of beating you at,” she replied.

“Could beat me at hockey right now. Can’t win if I can’t play the game.”

“It was just a bad day. They just ejected you from one game. This will die down and you’ll be back on the ice before the next practice.”

“I certainly hope so. I can’t believe that even happened.”

“Shane, what exactly did happen? I couldn’t really tell from where I sat.”

“I don’t know. It’s all a bit fuzzy. He barreled into me, again. I shoved back and we both went crashing to the ground. My skates came out from under me and my head hit the ice pretty hard. When I came up, I saw that his helmet had flown off and there was a massive puddle of blood, but everything was still a bit blurry. By the time the medics got to him, my vision had cleared a bit and I could see that he was cut badly. They said my skate hit his neck when I came down. The blades are very sharp,” he told her, his voice trailing off.

“Was it deep? There seemed to be so much blood.”

“I couldn’t tell. There was just blood everywhere. All I could see was red. I barely heard them telling me I was out of the game and everything seems so foggy, even now.”

“Why are they making such a big deal out of an accident? It could have happened to anyone.”

“Because of the animosity between us the whole game, they are speculating that I did it on purpose. It happened during a foul and that makes it look really bad for me.”

“Surely he will tell them that it wasn’t your fault when he comes to,” she replied.

“I don’t know what will happen. He’s a nasty bit of work, a fan favorite, but only because he’s considered a bad boy of the game. They love his aggression, both on and off the ice. He’s what people think of when they see a hockey player. He plays the game like a demon and when he’s not playing, he’s in bar fights, domestic disputes, smack talking. Fans who enjoy the rougher side of hockey eat it all up.”