Twenty-Two (Assassins Series Book 12) Read online

  For their fans.

  “You’re not mad at me, are you, Fallon?”

  Fallon made a face, looking over at Elli. “No, and this is not the time for that, Elli Adler. I’m freaking out.”

  Elli nodded. “You’re right. But, good. I’ve been worried.”

  “It’s your team. You gotta do what’s best.”

  “It killed me, though, you know that.”

  Fallon looked at her longtime friend and nodded. “I do. Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

  Elli looked sad as she nodded before staring back at the ice. While Fallon hoped they would be fine, she would be lying if she said she knew that was true. Lucas hadn’t given her anything to go on since they’d last talked. They were waiting until the play-offs were over. But if she was honest, she was losing her shit. She wanted to know their future. She wanted to know if she needed to start planning. She couldn’t plan if she didn’t know where he was going, but she needed something.

  She needed the Assassins to fucking win!

  As she watched, Johansson was on the ice with Franklin and Mason, while Sinclair and Reeves waited at the blue line. Sinclair was yelling, pointing to the left, while Franklin shot. But he was blocked before the rebound came to Mason’s stick. He threw it back to Reeves, who shot, but it was blocked. The defense went to clear it, but Sinclair flung himself to the ice, keeping it in before passing it, from his knees, to Johansson, who shot with all his might. And by the grace of God, it went over the goalie’s shoulder, and everyone lost their ever-loving shit.

  Fallon was screaming so loud she was convinced she wouldn’t be speaking tomorrow or for the rest of the week. They were tied, and as the seconds counted down, they knew they were going into overtime.

  “Overtime. We got this,” Elli breathed as Shea nodded beside her.

  “We got this.”

  “We got this,” she repeated as she let out another nervous breath.

  “Yes, we got this,” Fallon agreed, leaning back in her seat.

  “But even if we don’t, we go to Washington and win,” Aiden said, trying to be optimistic, but Fallon shook her head.

  “No, they need to shut it down now.”

  “Now!” Elli wasn’t playing, and in a way, Fallon worried about her. Elli wasn’t going to make it through this series if her boys didn’t win tonight. So many changes were happening, Elli was making moves, talking to people, and it was a lot for an owner who ran her team with her heart. She needed this. They all did. Looking over to Fallon, Elli held her gaze. “You promise you’re not mad?”

  Fallon laughed. “Elli, I love you. That’s it.”

  Shea rolled his eyes. “Sorry, Fallon, she’s a dork.”

  “But we love her,” Fallon said, wrapping her arm around her friend. “And it’s fine. Promise.”

  Elli smiled as she turned around to yell at one of her kids. Looking over to Aiden, Fallon rolled her eyes as Aiden held her gaze. “That’s about Dad, right?”

  Fallon paused. “How’d you know that?”

  “He told me.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah, we talked.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. It’s going to be okay, Mom,” he said, wrapping his arm around her and kissing her temple. “No matter what, it will be okay.”

  Leaning into her baby, she nodded. “It will. Funny, huh? May be us leaving you.”

  He laughed. “I never saw that coming.”

  “Nor did I.”

  “What?” Emery asked, looking up at them.

  “Your broken arm,” she said, and Emery nodded.

  “Me neither. I really thought I had it,” she said, and they both laughed as Emery shook her head. “I don’t know if I want to be a gymnast anymore.”

  Aiden scoffed. “No? I thought it was your dream.”

  She nodded. “It was, but now I want to be a hockey player like my daddy and my bubba.”

  She leaned into Aiden, and he grinned. “You can be anything you wanna be, baby girl.”

  Fallon’s heart shattered in her chest as she leaned over, kissing them both before looking back out at the ice as the teams started to fill the rink and benches after their short, fifteen-minute intermission. As it had when the last period ended, her heart jumped up into her throat while she watched the teams line up for the puck drop. And her heart didn’t leave her throat for the next five minutes as the teams battled, both wanting the win more than their next breath.

  When Lucas hit the ice, Stella hollered out for her daddy as Fallon scooted to the edge of her seat. He skated with his heart, going hard just like the boys on his line. When the puck snuck out to the defense at the blue line, Karson King shot hard as Lucas screened, but it went wide. Anderson was there, sending the puck back to the point where Jordie Thomas shot, while her poor, beaten-up husband screened once more. The goalie somehow blocked it, but the rebound was right there. It landed right in front of Lucas, at which point he turned and went top shelf.

  He scored.

  He fucking scored.

  “Daddy scored!”

  Lucas scored.

  “They won!”

  The Assassins won.

  Did that just happen?

  The light was on.

  Lucas was the one who shot it.

  The goalie was lying on the ice.

  Holy crap, people were jumping on him.

  He just scored.

  The winning goal.

  Holy. Fuck.

  “Brooksie!”

  “Luke!”

  “Yeah!”

  Throwing his gloves off and up in the air, he raised his hands high as one by one, his boys jumped on him. He fell to the ice, tears flooding his eyes as everyone was screaming. The boys, the fans, his family… Lord, he knew they were screaming. As the Assassins’ fight song blared, Lucas just lay there in complete shock. He had just scored the winning goal in game six of the Stanley Cup Finals.

  They won the Cup.

  His last year in the league and they had won, with him scoring the winning goal.

  Not even a New York Times bestselling author could have written his story any better.

  He couldn’t believe it. The game had been hard. The whole series had been hard, and the Caps just wouldn’t go away. He’d wanted this. God, how he had wanted this, and they had done it. For the fans, for his boss, and for his family, Lucas had won. The tears were flowing, and he didn’t think they’d stop because this was what he’d worked for. This moment right here.

  The next few moments were a blur. He didn’t really know what was going on. His adrenaline was pumping, and in a way, he wanted to pass out. God, he was tired, but they had won. The Assassins had won the Stanley Cup.

  He thought he was about to hold the Cup, but the next thing he knew, Lucas found himself beside Brie Soledad as she held a mic to his lips. “Lucas, you just scored the winning goal in the Stanley Cup Finals, which means the Cup is home in Nashville. What are you feeling?”

  He laughed. “Like I’m flying. I-I-I can’t believe it.”

  Brie grinned. “Walk us through that goal.”

  He just shook his head. “I don’t even know what happened. One minute, I’m screening, watching as King’s and JT’s pucks came at me. The next second, the puck is in front of me, and all I could think was, get it in. So I chipped at it, and it went. Wow. We won.”

  “You guys did!” she cheered, holding his shoulder as the crowd roared. “Lucas, as the oldest player on the team, this is your third time bringing the Cup home. Does it feel any different now, or is it the same feeling, only better?”

  Looking up, his eyes went to where he knew his family was. Up in Elli Adler’s box. He knew his oldest was probably screaming harder than he ever thought he could, no doubt holding one of the girls as they, too, screamed for their daddy. The other girl would be bouncing up and down, screaming his name. Asher would be calm but still cheering hard. His beautiful wife would be crying because she was proud but also relieved, because this series