Chapter 30
In the first minute of the third period, we score a power play goal on the remainder of Lemieux's penalty, which only serves to thicken the tension on the ice, make it more volatile. The game grows rougher, and eventually it’s the Grind Line out against Mario's, and Kirk's patience snaps. He lays a hard, clean hit on Lemieux and mutters something I can't hear.
"Son of a bitch," Mario sneers, tangling his stick in Kirk's legs, tripping him.
Then all hell breaks loose. The referee grabs Mac before he can jump into the battle, but it's too late to stop Kirk. Gloves are dropped, and I race towards him, trying to prevent chaos, hoping to stop him from doing anything stupid.
"Couldn't keep your fucking mouth shut, could you?" Mario bellows, glaring at me and moving closer. "You just had to be a pussy and start trouble."
I barely have a chance to think before Kirk pulls from my arms and is on him, throwing punches. Several of them land, splitting Lemieux's lip and bruising his right eye. Kris finally pulls Kirk away, while a few of the Penguins attend to Mario. I glance around and my eyes lock on Johan's, cold and glimmering with something so familiar that I shudder. While the referees are dealing with Kirk and Mario, and the ensuing penalties, he skates towards me, a threatening smirk on his lips.
"How cute, someone to fight your battles for you. You must be a better lay now," he moves past me towards the bench, snickering. "Maybe I'll have to find out just how much better."
Curtis is at our bench when I get there, taking a drink of water, but he looks right past me at Johan, "Back the fuck off," he growls, an anger in his tone that I don't recognize.
"Oh, TWO bodyguards. Aren't you just a popular little whore?" Johan says with a leering grin.
All over again, the world starts moving too fast. Curtis takes a run at Johan, catching him off guard. They fall quickly to the ice, each on grappling to get in a punch. The fight is over almost as soon as it begins, and I'm still standing there wide-eyed when they're pulled apart.
When the gloves and sticks and helmets are cleared from the ice, all of the penalties clarified, I find myself in the box next to Kirk, serving Curtis' penalty. Steve asks me to do it more as an offer of mercy than anything else. He can see how shaken up I am, so completely worked up that I can barely focus on the scoreboard.
I've never had anyone willing to defend me before, but now I have both Kirk and Curtis. And even if he didn't throw any punches, Steve was looking out for me as well.
"Thank you," I say to Kirk, forcing a slight smile. "I didn't mean to cause a war or anything."
"Those bastards had it coming. I only wish Cujo would've landed a few punches," he replies, clenching and flexing his fists. When he looks up, his eyes are clear, void of the rage from his battle with Mario. "We're a team here, Andy. We take care of each other. Hell, even if you were still with Pittsburgh, I'd kick his ass for you. What he's done is wrong. The league is going to try to write this off, give him a slap on the wrist. Someone had to make sure he paid in one way or another."
His attention is drawn back to the game, but my mind is still on the fights, replaying something Johan said.
"How cute, someone to fight your battles for you."
And he's right. I'm grateful for Kirk and Steve and Curtis, more than they could ever know. But this isn't their fight. This war is mine, and mine alone; it's up to me to ensure victory.
As if to add insult to injury, Kirk assists on a goal shortly after being released from the penalty box, and he send a smirk towards the Pittsburgh bench.
He proved his point. Now I have to prove mine.
