“For your information, Levi Dunn is onboard with it. In fact, he put the whole thing to me to make sureIwould do it. Now I need to make sure you’ve got the cajones for it, too.”
“Levi might’ve suggested it, but he’s a barbarian with a boyfriend.”
“Why cares? He’s still willing to go balls to the wall and take care of these guys. It isn’t just about hockey supremacy in the city of Buffalo. It’s about survival.”
“Survival?” I sputtered. “Give me a break.”
“You think I’m joking? I think these guys are planning to do a lot worse to us. So basically, we would be doing unto them before they can do unto us.”
That didn’t change my mind exactly, but it gave me pause. Our team considering intentional violence meant the Riptides might’ve been doing the same. Since they were low-down, dirty, disgusting, and cringeworthy, it seemed like a given. And if they really planned to harm us, it seemed smarter to stop them before they got going. Still, I knew this couldn’t be that simple.
“What about Coach Hardinson?” I asked.
“What about him?”
“You know what he told us about getting into any funny business with Remington. And we both know he wasn’t kidding around.”
“He was talking about getting into fights off ice, not standing out ground during a game.”
I flashed him a look that said he and I both knew that wasn’t true.
“Okay, fine,” he said, “so, maybe Hardison meant to cover more ground than that. But think about it: Can he punish the whole team?”
I couldn’t commit to anything, especially with Zane on the Riptides. And then there were basic principles to consider. Self-defense at the Colter Bay Grill was one thing. Picking a fight was another.
“Yes or no, Jakob. Can he punish the whole team or not?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Don’t look so timid. We wouldn’t be doing anything seriously bad. We would just be defending ourselves. And sometimes the best defense is a good offense.”
He stuffed half a pizza bagel into his face, and I looked away.
“Does this all make sense?” he asked.
“I guess so.”
“Why does your tone not fill me with confidence?”
“Gee, Ryan, I don’t know. It all sounds like a little bit much. Hopefully we won’t have to drive to the arena in a tank.”
The goalie touched his fingers to his chin like I’d triggered one heck of an idea.
“If nothing else,” he said, “I want you to at least be prepared.”
“Thanks for the courtesy, I guess.”
“And remember, if the shit does hit the fan, Zane Hirst is all yours.”
“Lucky me.”
23
ZANE
Ibarely said a word to anyone in the hours leading up to the game. Before you ask, the answer is yes, that includes Jakob. I wanted to warn him, or at least hint at what was coming, but I knew how much shit that would cause. Forget about the whole “what happens in the locker room stays in the locker room” principle. No matter how long and hard I thought about it, I couldn’t find a way to pardon this.
During warmups, I had to look away from Jakob at all times. Please don’t think I’m a bad guy for doing that. Deep down, I wanted to wave to him in the worst way, but I couldn’t. This was hockey. Serious business, you know?
