Page 8 of Nikoli

I smile at the way Martha always gets her way. Maybe it's because she doesn't ask for anything except the TV on game night. She's the ideal resident. I try to keep her away from other dementia patients because she gets depressed after spending an afternoon with some of them. She knows what's coming. No words of wisdom will change that perspective. I know it and she knows it.

A huge smile lights up her face as she stares at the big screen. I follow her gaze, even though I can hear the crowd, I know the team is on the ice. Nikoli makes my knees weak and other parts of my body wake up. In reality, I get nervous and twitchy around him. I've seen the way he looks at me. Maybe it's time to start living again.

I twitch and squeeze my legs together as I watch the man in question. He's tall, with broad shoulders that are more filled out by the gear he wears for protection. I swallow, hoping the camera moves in closer. I feel eyes on me and realize that Martha is no longer watching the pre-game chatter, she's watching me with a knowing look on her face. A blush works it’s on to my cheekbones .

"Nikoli's a good boy, Willow," she says quietly, her eyes back on the game. "He'll take care of you." She pats my knee. "No need to run anymore."

My gaze catches hers. "I know someone in trouble when I see it." Pause. "You look a lot like the missing girl from Baton Rouge."

My heart starts pounding in my chest and I can't catch my breath. I blink a few times, trying to bring the game back into focus. "What?" I croak.

"Oh, don't worry. I haven't said anything, and I won't. Not even to my grandson. I know there must be a very good reason why you are here." She pats my knee again. "Don't worry about that. Anyway, Nikoli would help you whether or not anything else happens between you two."

"I can't talk about it." Blood thunders in my ears as I force myself to calm down. The last thing I need is another panic attack.

"Keep breathing, Willow. I'm sorry I brought it up. I just wanted you to know you're not alone. I won't tell anyone."

Take a deep breath. Slow exhale.

"Marcus, my uncle, wants me back so he can control me. I'm not going. It's his fault that I've lost everything." That's not the word I wanted to use, but it's the only one I could think of that wouldn't set off alarms in Martha's head. "He's not a nice man. Not at all. Let's just leave it at that and watch the game."

Martha nods slowly. "Nikoli is a very good distraction."

"I agree."

"So is Dario," Martha adds.

6

NIKOLI

There is a buzz of anticipation as we take to the ice. The roaring cheers of the crowd fill the arena with energy and excitement. I glide effortlessly, feeling the adrenaline coursing through my veins. As I line up for the face-off, the intensity is palpable. I know where the cameras are, so I turn and focus on one. Anticipating that my grandmother and Willow will be watching the game on TV, I wink when I think the camera is pointed my way.

My position as a defenseman has me facing a medium-sized man for the opposition. The player will be fast and agile. I'll have to be on my toes. I look across the ice at Rhodes, who blows me a kiss. The asshole. Bradford is in goal, already making obscene gestures to the fans, who are eating it up. Lake and Madden, the wingers, are ready. Dario stretches, then gets into position for the face-off.

The energy in the arena is palpable as the game begins, each player focused and ready to give their all. The puck drops. The sound of skates cutting through the ice fills the arena as we all race towards the puck. Adrenaline pumps through my veins. I feel the weight of the game on my shoulders as I take control of the puck and make a break for the net. The goalie approaches, ready to defend the goal with all his might, but I confidently fake left and skate right, preparing to take my shot and score. The second period was just as smooth as the first, with both teams playing strong defense. The score remains tied as the final minutes of the period wind down.

Going into the third period, we have a four-goal lead. We just need to maintain our lead to secure the win. I'm drenched in sweat at this point, so I lift up the front of my jersey and wipe the sweat off my face. As I drop the jersey, I notice that some of the female fans are staring at my stomach. I give them a mischievous grin before winking and getting my head back into the game. Just in time. Dario gains control of the puck and races down the ice, effortlessly weaving around opposing defenders. Madden gets into position, elbows his way around a defender, and prepares to receive the perfect pass from Dario. With a quick flick of his stick, Madden redirects the puck toward the goal, hoping to score the winning goal for our team. And he does!

The crowd goes wild.

The cheers and applause are deafening as our team celebrates a hard-fought victory on the ice. Dario and Madden give each other a triumphant high-five, knowing that they played a crucial role in securing the victory. The coaches smile proudly and accept handshakes from the opposing coaches.

With an adrenaline rush, I wish the game had been in Boston so I could celebrate with Gran and Willow. I shake my head to get rid of the thought. Gran will be asleep in bed soon, and Willow will be in her room.

The last place I want to go tonight is the team party.

* * *

Music plays in the room as I enter Wyatt Peters' private party. The big boss always tries to be at the games to support us. That's why he's respected. He's one of the good guys. He takes care of the players like they're people and not just money.

Some of the other team members already look loaded, while Rhodes and I are late arrivals. Lake used a headache as an excuse to miss this. I didn't want to come. Neither did Rhodes. But here we are. There is a lot of wealth in the room. Potential sponsors and people who like to be part of something.

Before we have a drink in our hands, a well-dressed man in his fifties blocks our way to the bar. He holds out his hand. "Marcus Carter and my daughter Sarah." We shake hands and I nod to acknowledge his daughter.

“Nice to meet you both. Are you friends of the boss?” I ask.

“Who isn’t,” Carter chuckles. “Excellent game tonight.”

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