Hard Checked (Ice Kings #4) - Stacey Lynn Page 0,1

out.

“Hey. You all right?”

I turn to my teammate and fellow lineman and defenseman, Sawyer. He’s happy as a clam, recently getting married on Christmas Eve to his long-time girlfriend, now wife, Debbie. The fact they have a baby on the way hasn’t made him my favorite person lately.

When Madison found out? She cried for a week.

I know what the guys think.

Madison’s a bitch. She’s rude. She hardly ever smiles and she always looks annoyed when she’s around their families.

But she wasn’t always like this. It’s the stress. Seeing everyone we love get everything we want while month after month, we end up disappointed?

It’s hard not to become bitter.

“I’m good.” I turn back to my phone and the blank screen. I need to get home. Get Madison to talk to me.

“Looks like you want to punch through the airplane’s window,” Sawyer says, grimacing. “And I’m going to have to suggest you not.”

He shivers, giving me shit. Normally I like his playful attitude, but tonight, I’m not in the mood.

Across the table from us are Jason and Jude Taylor. Not only are they brothers and two of not only the best wingers in the professional hockey league, they’re the best men I’ve ever met.

Jude has his headphones on, head back, sleeping.

Jason has his headphones on, eyes on me with brows slightly arched. Great. How long has he been watching me? He’s the only person who has any idea what we’ve been going through, and even then, he knows very little. Definitely not the most recent bad news.

“I’m fine, Sawyer.”

I grab my phone and pull up my music streaming app, trying to ignore both of them.

“Really? ‘Cause you had a couple more penalties than normal today and you’ve been playing crazy aggressive, so if something’s going on…”

“Barthol deserved it.” Drake Barthol is Nashville’s most powerful center. He’s also a damn good guy and a clean player. Which means I’m full of shit and Sawyer knows it. Someone had to be the focus of my frustration. Might as well have been him.

“No. He didn’t.”

I can barely hear Sawyer through my headphones, but I can’t miss the tone in his voice. I turn to him, see his rarely used serious attitude, and sigh.

It’s not his fault he can knock up his woman and I can’t.

Or that Madison hasn’t talked to me in over a week.

“Just a bad game. I’ll get my head in it by the next one.”

“I’m not worried about your game. If something’s going on…”

“Nothing is going on,” I hiss out through gritted teeth. The last thing I’m doing is spilling my guts thousands of feet in the air.

“All right.” He lifts his hands and shoves off out of his chair, back to where he’s been hanging with Byron Maddox and Duke Fletcher, other teammates.

I watch him go and when I pull my focus back to my table, I catch Jason still watching me.

“Don’t start.”

He pushes his lips out and nods. “I’m here. You know that, right? You were there for me.”

Yeah, when I knew he was hesitating about going for a woman he wanted who wanted him back and both were too stupid to make a move. This is different.

I know what he wants to hear, so I give it to him. “I know. Thanks.”

“Good.”

An hour later, the plane has landed, I’ve grabbed my luggage and I’m in the back seat of a Town Car being driven home.

I pull up my phone again and hit call. My knee bounces while I wait…

“Hey, you’ve reached Madison Hendrix. I’m not available right now…”

I end the call. Try again. Four more times only to get the same voicemail message. It’s not like her to completely ignore me.

Which means by the time the car pulls into my curved driveway in a suburb outside Charlotte thirty-five minutes later, I’m passed the point of slightly concerned or pissed off.

I’m getting worried out of my brain.

What if something happened?

I’m attacked at the ankles as soon as I step inside the front door.

Scooping up Bruiser, our seven-pound Maltese fur ball I bought for Madison after her second round of fertility treatments didn’t work, I slam the door closed. We have a housekeeper who helps Madison with the upkeep of the house and yard. If Madison’s not home, Bruiser’s usually kenneled in his own private dog room we made for him. I’d texted Cara earlier and told her she didn’t have to wait for me and could leave him out. The poor guy’s been kenneled way more than usual in the