Page 26 of Breakneck Hockey

“It’s the end of the world, Sutter. We’re the last two humans in existence and we have to repopulate the Earth.”

“If that’s the case, humanity is screwed. You can’t get pregnant.” He sucks on my neck some more. My body trembles.

“Won’t know unless we try.”

“Good point,” he says, mauling my mouth. “Bend your ass back over the counter. I’m gonna breed you for the good of humanity, Alderchuck.”

Chapter 4

Sutter to the Rescue

Sutter

Idon’t think too much about my phone ringing until I see the caller. I get so many of those damn scam calls that I ignore any and all phone calls I don’t recognize. But I know this one.

“Counsellor Mitch?”

“You don’t have to call me that outside of camp. What’s going on, Charles?”

Okay, so, I have a protection complex and it runs deep. There are a few kids at camp I’m worried about. I gave them my number for emergencies. They know I’m only around for the summer.

“Can you come to my house?Now?”

There’s something desperate in his voice. I don’t think, I just act. “Yeah, text me the address.”

I’m not in Vancouver tonight, I’m in Langley, which is an hour outside of the City of Vancouver, chilling with old friends. I grew up in Langley. It’s where Ma and I lived when we had Dad.

We usually hang out on Lane’s beaten leather couch, drinking beers. It’s seen better days, but he won’t let me buy him a new one.

“We don’t need your fancy-ass money, Sutter,” is what he says every time I mention it. I should just fucking send one, but he’d probably light it on fire after pissing on it. Lane’s … been through some shit. He’s the eldest Curtis brother.

Tonight, four of us are on the porch with our asses planted in squeaky deck chairs. Move too suddenly and the legs might give out. The night got crisp enough that I had to grab my jacket from my car, but it’s better than being inside. Out here a woodsy scent permeates everything. The freshly cut grass wafting from the big yard brings with it the best of summer nostalgia. It’s not quite the same in the city. The city’s more sea-flavored because it’s so close to the ocean. On some nights, I swear I can taste the salt in the air.

I stand up. The chair groans in relief. “Gotta go,” I say. Thank fuck I didn’t drink with them. I had one beer earlier but stopped because I was considering driving back to town and abducting Alderchuck. Guess that’s out now.

“You hittin’ up that sweet ass again?” Lane says.

Tension creases my body. My eyes narrow. Fucking dickhead for saying that, but kinda my fault. I bring them to Casey’s work sometimes when I feel like fucking with him. Casey was foolish enough to let where he worked slip when he was in a my-dick-induced coma one night. Even if he hadn’t told me, I would have harassed Rhett for the information. Fucking with Alderchuck on the ice was fun, fucking with him off the ice is a whole new playground of toys.

Still, Lane talking about Casey like that has my hands curling into fists.Calm down, Sutter.I keep my mouth shut. I’m not gonna start shit over Casey. Why should I care how Lane talks about him? He has got a sweet ass I like to fuck, but that’s it. Therest of the time, I want to bury him and his loudmouth six feet under.

“Not tonight. One of the kids needs my help.”

“You’re such a dad, Sutter.”

I laugh. “Not in any way shape or form am I a dad. Maybe big brother figure.”

“Whatever. You need our help?”

Thing is, I don’t know. I didn’t ask questions. “Maybe. I’ll text you if I need anything.” Not tonight, though. The three of them are too drunk for driving, even though this was a tame night for us.

The address takes me twenty minutes outside of Langley to the City of Aldergrove. Driving down Fraser Road is always a dark venture when the sun’s down. I don’t know why they refuse to install enough lights on this portion of the drive so that relying on your high beams isn’t a necessity. The feeling of creeping into nowhere grips me.

I pull up to a ramshackle house. Moss grows in a wave over the roof. Rusted bicycles decorate the lawn like an eighties high-school movie. The moon’s a bright one tonight, and the remnants of chrome left clinging to the bike frames shimmer and move, never letting your gaze stop on one thing. It’s the eerie sort of movement that stirs in my chest. It’s the kind of eerie that comes bearing reminders.

Dad. Dad? Can I come out now?

The stairs creak under my weight, I check for the blade in my pocket. Should I knock or barge in? Goddammit. I should have asked more questions. But his voice. I just wanted to get here.

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