“The team owner?” Isabelle’s face scrunched with confusion. “Did I miss something? Why are you calling him The Godfather?”
“Because he’s obviously in the mafia.”
“And you know this … how?”
“Uh. His name isSalvatore Capuano.I rest my case.”
“So hemustbe in the mafia because he’s Italian?” Isabelle rolled her eyes. “You know I’m Italian, right? AmIin the mafia?”
“I dunno. Are you also a connected billionaire who owns casinos all over Las Vegas?”
She giggled. “No, but I wish.”
“Well, there’s your answer. Not in the mafia.”
“If we can set all thisfascinatingconjecture aside for a moment,” she teased, “I still don’t understand why Mr. Capuano would be spying on you.”
“Maybe Dak got aconkywhen he fell off that mechanical bull?” Tank joked.
“Nah, I’m not concussed. My thinking is perfectly rational and sound.”
With a sigh, I told them the real story about my talk yesterday with Killer, and the fallout because of that video.
After telling my story, a sense of unease hung in the air, and a number of guys wore their concern on their faces. The question on those guys’ minds was finally voiced when someone asked,
“You didn’t tell Killer we were at Stampede with you, did you?”
“No, I didn’t tell him,” I said, and they let out a sigh of relief. “I’m jumping on this grenade to save everyone else’s ass.”
“Just how many of you numskulls went out before Game Seven, anyway?” Rust demanded to know. “I want a show of hands.” One by one, the guilty parties—mostly the single guys, but a few taken guys, as well—reluctantly raised their hands into the air. Rust didn’t like what he saw. “Unreal. Just so we’re clear, this shitisn’tgoing to fly next season. The team comes first.” He sighed. “There. That’s my grievance. Now everyone has to take a drink.”
Everyone obliged and sipped their drinks, and any tension in the air quickly dissipated. Andthat,my friend, is the beauty of the year-end bender.
“But … Dak, aren’t you worried about being traded?” Brett asked, his brows knitted together.
Cale, the youngest defenseman on the team, nodded his head. “Yeah, Dak. Maybe you actuallyshouldn’tbe partying with us?”
“Holy shit. You guys should see yourselves right now. I was just joking about being paranoid before—but you guys really aretin-foil hatters now.” I laughed. “Look, nothing’s gonna happen. I’m gonna stick around Vegas all summer to work out, just like I promised I would. And Killer’s gonna tell The Godfather that I’m turning over this new leaf, and I’m settling down because I finally got a girlfriend, yadda yadda. I’m telling you, I’msolid, baby. Solid.”
“You have a girlfriend? Since when?” McKayla asked, though she quickly understood once I gave her a wink. “Oh.Oh.Yikes.”
“Dude, Dak,” Brett began nervously. “If The Godfather finds out you’re lying, they seriously might trade you.”
“Orworse,” Cale added.
“Okay, sure. But how the fuck is he gonna find out?” I asked with a laugh. “Because it’s not like I’mnotcommitted. I’m gonna do all the shit they want me to do. I already canceled my trip home so I could work out with the trainers all summer long. Trust me, once training camp starts next season, the organization will be very happy with one Dakota Easton. And if they ask about my girlfriend? I’ll just say we broke up, but I’m still on the straight and narrow. Boom. Easy.”
“Until you end up starring in another TikTok video and everyone knows you’re full of shit,” Rust warned.
“Which is why I’m drinking out of this.” I held up my coke can. “All I gotta do is dial it back a little this summer and I’ll be fine.”
“Uh-huh.” Brett rolled his eyes doubtfully. “And what’re you gonna do about girls? Because I don’t believe you can go an entire summer without hooking up.”
“I don’t have to—I’ll just limit myself to the aces in my bullpen, ya know?”
Murmurs and grumbles of doubt filled the air, but I assured everyone that it’d all be fine, that I had everything under control.
That’s when my cell phone started to ring.
