Six minutes in, Danny wins a faceoff in the offensive zone and passes it to me along the boards. I've got a defender on me immediately, physical and aggressive, trying to pin me against the glass.
I protect the puck, spin off him, and suddenly there's space.
I see the gap between the defender and the goalie. Not huge, but enough.
I deke once, get the defender leaning the wrong way, and go backhand. Top shelf. Bar down.
The lamp lights up red.
Goal.
The crowd fucking explodes.
I'm already turning, my arms up, skating directly toward the family section where Nora and Harper are. I point at them, both hands extended.
Danny crashes into me, laughing, and then Rodriguez is there, and we're celebrating, but all I can see is Nora's face through the glass, her smile bright and proud, Harper squirming in her arms.
"Hell yeah, West!" Danny's shouting. "Fucking beauty!"
I get back to the bench, and Liam taps my pads through the glass. "Nice goal, buddy."
"Thanks."
The game continues. We're up one-nothing, and I can feel the momentum shifting. Our crowd's loud, the other team's rattled, and everything feels possible.
During the third period, I'm out on a shift when Danny's got the puck in the corner. Two defenders are pressuring him, and I can see him looking for an outlet. I'm at the slot, blade down, tapping it on the ice so he knows where I am.
He finds me.
The pass is perfect, tape-to-tape, and I have about half a second before their defense closes. Instead of shooting, I see Rodriguez streaking toward the net, completely open.
I pass it across.
He buries it.
Two-nothing.
The arena's deafening.
Rodriguez tackles me in celebration, and I'm laughing because this is what hockey should feel like. This is why I love this game. Not the politics or the bullshit or Reaper's hostility, butthis—the plays, the goals, the pure joy of doing something you're good at with guys who give a shit.
The other team gets one late in the third, but it's not enough. Final buzzer sounds, and we're streaming off the bench, everyone mobbing Liam at his net because he was incredible tonight. We win the game, three to one.
I find Danny in the chaos. "Thanks for the passes."
"You earned them." He grins. "Think Reaper noticed?"
"Don't care."
And I mean it. For the first time in months, I genuinely don't care what Reaper thinks because tonight I proved I belong here. Not to him, but to me.
The announcements come over the PA as we're heading off the ice. Three stars of the game. The third star is me.
The crowd cheers when they say my name, and I skate back out for a quick wave, feeling surreal. This is my first star selection as a Falcon. The first time this crowd has actually cheered for me specifically.
In the locker room, guys are congratulating me, Danny, Rodriguez, and Liam, all chirping about the goal and the assist. Even a few of the veterans nod their approval. Reaper doesn't say anything, doesn't even look at me, but for once it doesn't matter.
I shower quickly, desperate to get out to the family area where Nora and Harper are waiting. I throw on jeans and a Falcons hoodie, run a hand through my wet hair, and I'm out the door before most guys are even undressed.