Page 19 of Breakaway

Glancing at his truck in the hotel parking lot, he noticed something weird. After closer inspection, there was plastic wrap on his truck. Someone—and he was pretty sure he knew who—had plastic wrapped the cab of his truck shut.

“Three guesses who did this,” he commented, unamused.

Ben shrugged. “Just a harmless prank.”

Travis pulled out his pocketknife and pulled off the cling wrap. “So how come your car was left untouched?”

“Maybe they didn’t know which one was mine.”

Or maybe it was a prank on the guy who was trying to hook up with Sam Morris’s niece.

HURRYING TO THE LOCKER room, Travis was pumped for tonight’s game. In his stall hung his jersey—the arms had been tied together. Pretty lame prank, but still annoying. He chuckled and looked over to Ben, figuring his was tied up, too. But Ben’s jersey was not.

Yeah, the call-ups tended to get pranked, and yet he was the only one on the receiving end of things this time. Figure in the plastic wrap on his truck cab, and it was obvious he was the target of their jokes.

None of the guys looked up; they all simply pulled on their pads and got ready for the game. Travis untied his jersey without a word and continued to get ready.

The horn sounded and the music blared. Time to hit the ice.

“Let’s do this!” Tyler yelled, obviously trying to hype them up.

Travis’s stomach flopped, as the music played and they skated around the ice. The announcer’s voice boomed through the arena, and finally Travis took his place on the bench. As he went to squirt some water on his face, the lid to the water bottle tumbled to the ground, and water poured onto his sweater.

Harrison shook his head with a sympathetic smile and mouthed, “Sorry, rookie.”

Sam and Kaden never looked in his direction once, cementing their guilt in his mind. But nothing was going to dampen his excitement tonight. The arena was pumped. His pulse raced with nervous excitement, and his heartbeat thumped in his ears. Chants of “Z” filled the arena, since Dom Zanetti was in net tonight. Cowbells rang. Girls screamed.

The puck dropped.

Tyler took control of the puck and put on a show as usual, leaving Colorado to chase him around the ice. The tension escalated quickly when Dash smashed a Colorado defenseman into the boards, stole the puck, and took off down the ice towards Colorado’s net.

Coach Walker tapped Travis. “You’re in, kid.”

Travis joined the rush. Closing in on Colorado’s net, he shouted for the puck, and covered a Colorado player in front of the net. As he blocked their goalie, a Colorado player shoved him, just as the puck was shot by Morris—and that was all he remembered until seeing the frozen disc of rubber come right at his face.

He kept his eyes closed as his head spun. There was cold ice under his hands. He clearly heard the whistle blow, stopping play. But he lay there, trying to shake off the pain that radiated through him, until the stinging was only in his cheek. The trainers and some teammates surrounded him, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

He tossed his gloves to the ground and gave them a thumbs up. Luckily, most of the guys went back to the bench, and only Tyler and the trainers remained.

“Travis, let me check your face,” Brownie instructed.

“It’s fine,” he responded. Touching his cheek, he expected to see blood. But only a small smear was on his fingers. Glancing down on the ice, he saw there was no blood there, either.

“Son, I think you missed the worst of that hit,” Brownie commented.

“Your visor saved your face, Rookie,” Tyler added.

“But you still need checked out,” Brownie said. “Tyler, help me get him off the ice.”

Waving off their help, Travis grumbled, “It’s fine. I can do it myself.” He’d had his bell rung more than injured—he assumed, anyway—but he still got to his feet all on his own.

CHAPTER TEN

Morgan

Morgan covered her mouth with a gasp. “Oh, my gosh! Travis!” She couldn’t move, as she watched what transpired.

Travis lay on the ice. He didn’t seem to be unconscious, and the trainers were examining him. But the worst part was that the puck that hit Travis had been shot by her uncle.