Chapter 20
Jaxon
Coach Harris stands in the centre of the room giving us his usual pre-game pep talk. His words have the boys all riled up and ready to go but for the first time, the effect isn’t the same on me. Something just feels… I don’t know. Off.
I can’t put my finger on it but whatever it is. I don’t like it.
I try to tune it out and concentrate on Coach, after all, it’s halfway through the season and naturally, we are in the top position to take this thing out. Semi-finals and finals are quickly approaching and I need to have my head in the game more than ever.
Some lady with a clipboard comes knocking at the door and lets us know the start of the game has been delayed by 10 minutes due to the ice rinks Zamboni breaking down. I can’t help but think this is a sign, something bad is going to happen and my guess is that it’s this game. Bad things always happen in threes. First, there is Cass running late, though she should be here by now, second is the Zamboni, what comes next?
Maybe I’ll miss a shot or fuck something up real bad, there are most likely scouts in the audience who are all watching me, waiting to see if I’m the kind who will crack under pressure. I don’t freaking know but my gut just tells me something is up.
I consider it could be nerves but then, I haven’t been nervous before a game since I was a kid, this shit is as natural to me as brushing my damn teeth in the morning. It has to be something else, but what?
Coach knocks over the bin at the end of the room and tips out a bucket of pucks at the other end before instructing us to take some practice shots while we wait for the ice.
All our helmets immediately come off and I stand in line to take a few shots. My aim is perfect as usual and I take a backseat from shooting to help the guys with their aim but that sinking feeling continues to grow and I can hardly concentrate.
Not long after the lady comes back around to tell us it’s go time. I quickly duck to my locker and grab my helmet. I rip off my gloves and check my phone and find a text from Cass telling me she is here, though, that was at least 20 minutes ago but that one text from her eases me just a bit. I can handle fucking up one game as long as Cass is there afterward.
I jam my phone back in my locker, pull my gloves and my helmet on and take my position at the door, ready to lead the boys out. They all fall in line behind me but my head is completely out of it. My eyes stray to the ground as my head goes over all the possibilities.
“Jax,” Coach hollers with a clear annoyance in his voice. My head snaps up to him and I notice immediately that everyone is waiting for me to go. “Where’s your head, Payne?” Coach demands.
“Sorry, Coach,” I stutter out, as my eyes revert back to the ground.
Bobby slaps me upside the back of my head and I turn around with a scowl. “Dude,” he hisses as he gives me a wicked nudge to get out the door. “Pull it together.”
I reluctantly lead the boys out of the locker room and that bad feeling intensifies. I come out of the hallway and enter the stadium. The noise from the crowd is deafening but I push on. As soon as we turn the corner, my eyes instantly flick up to Cass in the crowd but I don’t find her there. Where the hell is she? She hasn’t missed a game all season and she sent a text saying she was here.
I look over to the food lines even though she has never eaten stadium food in her life and just as expected, she isn’t there. I mean, could Brianna have gotten worse and she had to go? If that were the case she would have texted.
I turn back to Bobby. “Have you heard from Bri? Is Cass with her?”
He gives me a strange look, probably wondering why the hell I’m thinking about his twin sister at a time like this but I know he see’s something off in my eyes as he answers, “She’s fine, just got some bug. Last I heard she was starting to feel a bit better. Cass was coming by herself, she should be here,” he says casting his eyes up at the grandstand. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know, man,” I tell him as I continue looking around the stadium, “She texted 20 minutes ago, saying she was here. She should be in her seat, it’s not like her to miss a game without telling someone where she is.” The thought hits me like a freight train. The sinking feeling. It’s Cass. Something has happened to Cass.
I take off like a bat out of hell with Bobby hissing my name behind me. “Where the Hell do you think you’re going?” Coach demands, catching me at the end of the line.
“It’s Cass. Something’s wrong,” I tell him. “Please, I just need to check she’s ok. I won’t be able to concentrate until I know.”
There is anger behind his eyes but he gives in and lets me go. “You have thirty seconds,” he says under his breath, “And then your ass better be on that ice.”
I take off once again, no time for a thank you.
I burst through the locker room doors and the metal door slams against the back wall before slamming closed once again. I tear off my helmet and gloves before I’ve even made it to my locker and I pull my phone straight out.
I call Cass as quickly as possible and wait the agonising moments for her to answer, only there is none, the call rings out and goes to her voice mail. I try a second time and a third before I find Brianna’s number.
She answers immediately. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the ice?”
“Is Cass with you?” I ask urgently.
“No, why? She left ages ago.” She explains.
“She texted twenty minutes ago saying she was here but her seat is empty,” I tell her, “She didn’t go home?”
“No, she’s not here,” Brianna says slightly alarmed. “She would never miss your game.”
“Fuck,” I curse as I hang up the phone. I try Cassie’s number again and get nothing. Shit, where the hell is she? I’m whipping my hockey gear and skates off before I even know what’s going on. I grab my keys and am halfway to the door when Coach barges in.
“What the fuck is going on, Payne?” he demands as he blocks my exit.
By this stage I’m frantic and I hardly have a moment to spare for him but it’s out of sheer respect that I don’t push him aside. “Something’s wrong. I have to go.”
“Like hell you do,” he bellows. “Start talking.”
With an agitated groan, I let it out. “Cass isn’t here, she would never miss a game. I feel it in my gut. Something’s happened.”
He hangs his head as he thinks it over, he and I both know that if she was in danger and he didn’t let me go, he would never forgive himself. “Fine,” he grunts. “But you get your ass back here as quickly as possible.”
I’m flying out the door before he has finished his sentence.
I run through the doors of the arena and fly down the stairs only to stop at the bottom, thankful that she has a bright freaking yellow Beetle that I could spot anywhere. My eyes scan the whole parking lot and come up with nothing before I remember she thought she was late. I rush around the side of the building to the athletes parking and instantly find her Beetle parked behind my truck.
Relief begins to stir in me, maybe she was here all along and I’m just overreacting but that feeling still remains in the pit of my stomach. I take off towards her car but a black pile of something on the sidewalk stops me.
I rush over and pick it up to find a handbag. I peek in the top and instantly recognise one of Cassie’s notebooks. I look around and see spots of blood on the ground and I know without a doubt my gut feeling was right. Something has definitely happened and I hope my girl is ok.
I follow the track of blood which leads me to an empty car space and I immediately think the worse.
I pull out my phone and hit dial on Logan’s number as I sprint off towards her car just to double check she isn’t there.
“Yo, fucker, what do you want?” he says into the phone. “Wait, don’t you have a game?”
I ignore his comments. “Have you heard from Cass? I think she’s been taken from the stadium. I found her bag on the sidewalk and a trail of blood that leads to an empty spot.”
“Fuck,” he curses, “Taken? Who the fuck by?” My mind goes to one person and if it is, the bastard is going to be sorry. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he roars before going quiet for a moment. “Umm…. Ok, yeah, we put a GPS tracker on her phone when she moved,” he tells me. “Does she have her phone on her? Is it in her bag?”
I rush over to my car and empty out the contents of her bag into the tray of my Ute. I search through it but come up empty. I quickly search through her car. “Nah, no phone,” I tell him.
“Good, she might have it on her,” He says, sounding as though he has put me on speaker phone and I’m sure he must be looking up the GPS. “It’s searching,” he tells me and I hear the frustration in his voice, wishing it would go faster. “Come on,” he grunts running out of patience.
I get in my truck and turn on the ignition, waiting for his go ahead. “Shit, here we go,” he says urgently. “I’m texting you the address, it’s about a 5-minute drive.”
The text comes through not a moment later. “Got it,” I tell him.
With Cassie’s car parking me in, I floor it up and over the parking island and up the pathway, knocking down a few light reflectors on my way. “We’re on our way,” Logan says before hanging up.
I fly up past the side of the stadium and past the drops of blood where I had found her handbag. My fear settles a tiny knowing that the triplets are on their way but I will beat them there by miles. I come screeching onto the road and barge in front of the oncoming traffic, only to be honked by pissed off drivers but I honestly don’t give a shit right now.
I speed down the road, honking and weaving through the traffic just daring these fuckers to get in my way. The thought crosses my mind that maybe she is fine, maybe she met a friend and took off. I look down at my phone and double check the address, certain I know which street she is on.
I push my foot harder to the ground. Hold on, baby. I’m coming for you
.