Page 115 of Conrad

He stilled, looked over, and spotted,aw, Steve Bouchard in the stands.Perfect.And it seemed the guy had started his day drinking, holding a beer as he got up.

“We pulled it together in the end?—”

“Pulled it together? Man, we need more than that! You’re the center—you’re supposed to be leading out there. The passing was sloppy, and it felt like you didn’t even show up until the third period. These kids here are showing more hustle than I saw last night!”

He held up his hands. “Not here, okay?”

Steve jumped off the edge of the bleachers, heading toward him. The other parents seemed to tense, watching.

“Listen—” Conrad started.

“It’s time to retire, old man. We got the Blade. We don’t need you?—”

“Hey.” Penelope stepped in front of Conrad. “Back off! You don’t talk to him like that. You have no idea how hard he works—both on and off the ice. This isn’t the time or the place.”

Perfect. Just what he needed—Penelope Pepper defending him. “Penny—let it go. He’s just a jerk?—”

“A jerk?” Steve stepped up to him. “I remember you, King Con—the hotshot from Duck Lake. Weren’t you the guy who drove over Joe Johnson with a Zamboni? Crippled him?”

Conrad stilled. Especially when he realized that the practice on the ice had stopped, kids lining up against the boards.

He cut his voice low. “Let’s just take it down a notch. This is a kids’ event. If you want to discuss the game, maybe let’s take it outside.”

“Oh, you want to go outside?”

More than he wanted to admit. He held up a hand. “Not like that?—”

“Yeah, buddy, let’s go outside!”

Penelope took a step toward Bouchard.Aw?—

Steve took one look at her, smiled, and Conrad saw something ugly take shape.

“Sure, honey. You want to go outside?” He tossed his beer away. It hit the bench, splashed. Penny held up a hand to the spray, but Conrad had stepped up behind her, snaked his arm around her waist, and jerked her back.

He took most of the liquid on his pants and shirt.

But he turned, set her away, met her eyes. “Stay.”

Then he rounded on Steve. Lowered his voice, met his eyes. “You do not want to do this. Calm down.”

Bouchard swung at him.

Conrad stepped back, dodged the hit, the momentum jerking Bouchard off-balance. The man went sprawling.

Silence in the arena.

Except for Penelope. “Stay down, jerk!”

Conrad turned, grabbed Penelope’s hand. “Let’s go.”

“Steve!” Missy Bouchard had scrambled off the bleachers toward her husband. He pushed her away. His eyes lit, fire.

“That’s assault!” He pointed at Conrad. Smiled. “Missy, call the cops.”

Aw, seriously?“I didn’t touch you?—”

Steve popped up. “You pushed me.”

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