Page 82 of Puck'N Enemy
I nod. “Sounds about right.”
“Think he’ll go pro?”
“He wants to be a coach,” I tell him. “But I think he can gain invaluable experience by playing in the league for a couple of years.”
“I’ve been telling him the same thing,” Coach Becker says in a grim voice. “He needs to play in the leagues and learn how it’s different from playing college hockey. It’s the only way he can train players to reach their best heights. I believe he’s thinking about going pro.”
“I want him to go pro too,” I say, grinning. “He’s gonna own the damn league if he goes for it.”
From the ice, Dylan glances up at me, just for a second, and our eyes meet.
I lift two fingers in a subtle salute. Dylan grins widely, returns the gesture, and returns to the game.
In this moment, I can feel every inch of the journey we survived together. We suffered through so much pain, violence, and fear, but in the end, our undying love for each other got us through everything.
The horn blares again, signaling another goal for the Silver Bears.
The crowd goes wild, but I barely hear it over the thunderous pounding in my chest.
Mitchikov whistles loudly. “Damn. That’s three goals. Your Dylan’s running the show tonight.”
I grin, my heart aching and full.
Coach Becker lets out a shaky breath. “That kid’s not just playing for the score. He’s playing like he’s finally free.”
My throat chokes up at those words. “He is.”
Coach turns toward me. “You got him here, Logan. You held him up when no one else did.”
I glance at him and see tears sliding down his wrinkled face. His illness has taken a lot from him, but not this moment. There’s a quiet, fierce pride in his eyes as he watches one of his boys become more than anyone expected.
“I didn’t do anything,” I say hoarsely. “He saved himself.”
“I’ll never get tired of watching him play,” Coach says, wiping his tears. “I may not have a lot of time to watch his other games but God, I’m glad I got to see this one.”
Mitchikov clears his throat gruffly. “Nah, you’ve got to live a long life, old man. Dylan’s going places. The scouts have their eyes on him already. So, you'd better buck up and watch your kid grab his place in the league.”
I nod, a quiet fire building in my chest. “My friend’s right. Dylan’s going to make it. All the way.”
“He already did,” Coach says softly.
I fall quiet, knowing I can’t argue with that.
Dylan clawed his way out of the shadows, fought back against monsters, and came out alive, radiant, and victorious. I’ll make sure no one ever threatens to take his light from him again. I’ll protect him with everything I’ve got and love him for as long as I breathe.
26
Dylan
The scoreboard behind me declares our win in bold, flashing numbers, but I barely need it. My chest feels like it might explode from the sheer rush of it all—our victory, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, and the crowd’s cheers, chanting for the Bears.
“Hell yeah, Red!” Reece yells, clapping me hard on the shoulder.
“Hat trick, baby!” another teammate whoops as we pour off the ice.
“Gonna have to start calling you Captain Clutch,” someone teases, bumping my shoulder as we head toward the locker room.
I grin widely despite my aching cheeks. It feels damn amazing to win a game after facing a tough team like the Rowan Devils. I high-five and fist-bump my teammates and shout as loudly as they do.
