Delayed Penalty by Shey Stahl
20. Trailer
A player who follows his teammate on the attack seemingly out of the action but actually in position to receive a backward or drop pass.
Ami
“Holy shit!” I clasp my hand to my rapidly beating heart. “Why’d he do that?”
Callie draws in a breath. “I… don’t know.”
I focus on Evan as he skates back to the bench. He doesn’t look up. I get that he’s focused but this is different. He’s not the same guy who was kissing and joking with me in the hotel room this morning.
Dave gets to his feet quickly, but surprisingly says nothing, and neither does Evan, but the glare Evan delivers to his ex-teammate over his shoulder tells me something else is meant by that hit. There’s no apology in Evan’s stare as he scowls at Dave. By the way he ignores the shouts and stares, it makes me realize this is something more than just the playoff moodiness Callie told me about.
O’Brien isn’t happy and points at Evan, who skates back to the bench, head down. “What the fuck was that?” he screams at Evan. We can hear it even across the ice. “Sit. The. Fuck. Down.”
“Oooh, this is going to be a fun game. Your boy is pissed about something.” She claps her hands together. “I love an angry Mase.”
I turn to Callie. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that drink.”
Angry Mase? She hands me her flask, and I take one long swig, feeling the burn and instantly relaxing.
“Oh hey, easy there, tiger.” Callie swipes the flask back. “I said one drink.”
When the game starts, I know for a fact something is different about Evan. Every moment he’s on the ice, he’s fumbling, falling, checking guys into the boards harder than before, and avoiding Dave.
Dave will come near Evan on the ice, even if the puck is in his zone, and he falls away and goes to the bench. Usually when I watch Evan, he’s always a passionate player. He’s powerful, always strong and focused, always present, but tonight, he’s none of that that. He’s distracted.
Just when I think he’s getting it together, he’s called for off-sides and roughing. Then, right out of the box, he’s back in there for a five-minute major for instigating. It’s like he’s trying to stay in the penalty box all night.
“Okay.” I lean into Callie. “There’s something wrong.”
“You’re telling me. I’ve never seen him play like this.”
Just as Callie says that, Evan slams the door to the penalty box and it shatters.
“Wow. Haven’t seen that one yet,” Callie notes, watching Evan carefully.
I can’t be sure, but something tells me this is about Dave.
I watch Evan in the penalty box, his eyes burning at Dave, the fire smoldering. He’s ready for a fight. He’s out for blood.
“Do him and Dave have beef?”
“Dave probably said something to piss him off.”
When I met Evan and he showed up with a black eye, I knew he had anger issues. And then when I went to that first game, I witnessed the strength he had firsthand. I also know, watching him, whatever he has planned isn’t going to be good.
