Page 1 of Defensive Zone

Chapter 1

“Max. Oh god, Max.”

His sister’s voice through the phone put him on high alert. Each word was punctuated with a sob. He walked out of Crash and Byrne, the San Francisco Strikers’ favorite bar where he’d been celebrating his team’s latest win, and ignored the cold February air that instantly killed his buzz.

“Ava. What’s going on? Is everyone okay? Connor? Amelia? Elise? You’re freaking me out,” Max Bastian, Baz to his teammates, said.

“Greg is dead,” Ava said, sobs ripping through her again.

“What? How? Are you and the kids okay? What happened?” he asked, scooting farther away from the bar door and leaning against the building. He hated that she was hundreds of miles away.

“Baz, get your ass back in here. You owe us a round,” Sully called out from the door.

Max flicked his wrist toward his teammate, trying to focus on what his sister was telling him. His brother-in-law was dead. How?

“Ava, what happened? Is everyone else okay?” he asked again.

“Yes. Yes. The kids and I are fine. We were home. Greg was in Seattle on business. The cops came to my house to tell me. Oh god. What am I going to do?” she cried, and his heart broke.

“Deep breaths, Ava. We’re going to get through this,” he said, already thinking about how he could help his sister. She was in Chicago and the Strikers had a game there in three days with no games until then. He could fly out tomorrow morning to be with her and still fulfill his obligations with the team.

“I just. I just,” she sputtered through her tears, and Max clenched his fist, wishing he was with her.

“I’ll be there tomorrow,” he said.

“What? No. You have games. Mom and Dad are flying in tomorrow and—” Another sob ripped through her.

“I’ll be there tomorrow. No arguing, Ava,” he said.

“It’s just so much,” she whispered, and his stomach clenched. “How could this happen? He had a heart attack or something. I don’t know all the details. He’s too young for that. I just…” she trailed off. “I didn’t even know he had heart issues. I mean, how else does this happen?”

“We’ll figure everything out. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t worry, Av. I’ll always be there for you.”

He ignored the brief flicker of guilt at his words, knowing they hadn’t always been true. When he’d started his professional career, he’d been young and dumb and focused on hockey and bunnies and not his family. Any chance he’d had to go home, he’d always go for a better option if one came along.

He’d realized he was being an absolute idiot after the first few years, and since then he’d done everything he could for his family. And right now, he would do everything he could to help his sister and the kids.

He couldn’t imagine what she was going through. He’d never gelled with the guy, but Greg seemed to make his sister happy—had made his sister happy. Shit.

“Oh, Max,” Ava cried, flinging herself into his arms when she opened her front door the following day.

After he’d ended his call with Ava the previous night, he’d reached out to Joel Dryden, the team’s manager, to ask if he could take a few days for a family emergency. The man had agreed, and Max had been able to find an early morning flight so he could get to his sister’s house before lunch.

He dropped his bag at his feet and wrapped his arms around his sister as her tears soaked his shirt. He murmured soft words and let her cry as he backed her into the house.

“Uncle Max,” Amelia’s voice called out from behind Ava, and his sister stiffened.

“Uncle Max,” Connor, Amelia’s twin, exclaimed.

Then Elise started to cry. Ava pulled out of his embrace to get her daughter, and Max dropped to one knee to scoop the twins up. He wasn’t sure how much they knew or what they would understand at only four years old.

The next few days passed in a blur of his parents arriving from Montreal and funeral plans being made. As Ava alternated between sadness and anger, Max did everything he could to help. He’d managed to play decently against Chicago, and management had let him stay another two days for the funeral before he had to meet up with them in Columbus. He’d missed the Minnesota game, which the Strikers had won.

His parents would head back to Montreal next week. They’d asked Ava and the kids to stay with them since Ava was a teacher and had taken the school year off after having Elise in October, so she wasn’t tied to a job in Chicago for now.

But his parents both worked and their house would be cramped with three little kids. When Max had signed his first big contract years ago, he’d tried to buy them a new and larger home, but they’d told him no. Too many memories in the house they’d started their family in. Nothing Max could say or offer had made his parents budge, so he’d just paid off the mortgage instead. It was the least he could do after all of the support they’d given him for his entire life. Being a hockey parent was not for the faint of heart, especially with the countless early morning practices, but they’d never wavered in their support of his dream.

“Ava, honey. Are you sure you don’t want to come home with us?” his mom asked the day after the funeral.

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