Page 121 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

I get the negative thoughts out with a shake of my head and take a deep breath.

“I’m just a bit shaken up,” I admit. “But I’m good. No injuries, but the driver was a woman. A mother I think. Don’t know her, but they have a young daughter or something.”

Glancing briefly over to the car that’s completely dented in the front, I’m surprised the mother is just running around like she wasn’t in the driver’s seat.

“The daughter isn’t breathing.”

“Ugh,” Dad groans. “Fuck. Is there no damn ambulance or healthcare workers nearby? Did someone call 911?”

“I’m hoping someone did,” I admit. “I needed to call you first because I don’t want this being pinned on me, Dad.” My nerves are only growing. “This wasn’t my fault, I swear.”

“Do they have a dash cam?” Father immediately asks.

“I don’t see one,” I admit but am not really sure. “I still got that device with me. The one you gave me last time that interferes with the dash cameras, so it interrupts recordings within a few meters distance.”

“Good,” he sounds a bit relieved with that added piece of information. “You don’t say shit, you hear? You’re innocent. Was making your way up the hill when your bike was acting funny. Say it just came from the mechanics after a stalled brake. I’ll get Diego to vouch for you.”

“Okay.” His plan is helping me calm down.

Doesn’t solve the kid not breathing.

“What about the kid, Dad?”

“Ugh, right. The fucking kid.” It sounds like he’s pacing on the other side. “Let me call the sheriff. No enforcement is there yet?”

“No, not yet.” I look around to make sure. “They’re probably stuck. The whole road is pretty backed up unless they’re going to go from the end of 15th to come back onto the one-way street.”

“Gives us some time,” he says more to himself than me. “Stay calm and confident. I’ll pull some strings. If the kid dies, we can cover it up and say the mother was sleep deprived or under the influence. Will pull something off and hush them with money. They can procreate another kid.”

It’s harsh but I guess popping a baby is easier than rebuilding my reputation.

Years of dedication got me to this point in being the Captain of the Saskatchewan Pincers. My boys, who took my side and didn’t betray me like Maddox and the others, deserved to hold that championship trophy.

Heck, they deserved to hold the Stanley Cup at my side.

No way could I let all these inconveniences get in my way. That’s been happening a lot lately. As though everyone and everything wants to stop me from being great.

Untouchable.

That’s not happening today.

No one will steal my dreams from me.

Money can solve everything.

“Focus on the present. I’ll make some calls and get back to you. Remember. You’re innocent. Bike brakes stalled. Understood?”

“Understood,” I whisper in pure relief. “Thanks, Dad.”

“This shit can’t keep happening, Jayce,” he warns with that threatening deep voice of his. That authoritative voice that’s screaming ‘you’re running out of chances’ without saying those exact words.

“I swear if I have to bail you out from some crazy shit again and it’s in public, I won’t help you save face, Jayce,” he threatens. “One more problem, and I’m keeping my promise and replacing you.”

Replacing.

Me.

Two words that make my whole body grow stiff.

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