“Jesus,” I murmur, glancing at Erik for a moment. “What happened?”
“Murdered,” Dax mutters as he shakes his head. Like he can’t believe it. “I don’t know the details but it was a mugging and he was shot.”
“Fuck,” I hiss between my teeth, my stomach rolling with nausea.
“I need to get to New York. Regan is completely lost,” Dax says as he pulls away from my hold and starts staggering into the parking lot. He’s been drinking quite a bit but I think part of the staggering is grief.
Erik and I hurry to catch him. I step in front of Dax, holding my palms out. “You can’t drive. You’ve had too much to drink. I’m borderline on how much I’ve had to drink so here’s what we’re going to do…I’m going to call us an Uber and I’m going to ride home with you. You can pack while I make your flight reservation.”
Dax just nods dumbly, and then easily lets me lead him back to the sidewalk that borders the building. I pull my phone out and as I’m pulling up the Uber app, I look at Erik. “Let everyone inside know what’s going on. And can you call Christian?”
Dax was going to miss some games and the best person to notify would be the general manager.
“Sure thing,” Erik says and then lays a hand on Dax’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, man. Let me know what I can do.”
Dax manages a half smile. “Thanks.”* * *—
I accompany Dax to his place which is actually a townhome in Scottsdale. I offer the Uber driver fifty dollars to wait for us.
Dax is quiet and reserved, but I engage him as best I can. He refreshes me on more details of Lance’s sister, Regan. Lance was only twenty-one and halfway through his fourth season in the NHL when he took over guardianship of his sister, who was fourteen at the time. Because Dax and Lance grew up together, Regan was as much a little sister to Dax as his own younger sister, Willow.
While he packs, I make his plane reservation. I’m able to secure a flight with only one layover that leaves at 1:10 A.M. and puts him in New York midmorning. I’m not sure when he’ll return so I made it a one-way.
Erik texts me that he called our GM and that Christian was going to put out a team-wide message about what happened immediately because this was going to be hitting the news waves anyway. A professional hockey player getting mugged and shot to death is big news in and out of the sports world.
Our Uber driver gets us to the airport with no issues and I take a moment to step out of the car with Dax. While the driver removes his luggage from the trunk, I tell Dax, “You need anything, you just call. Let me know when the service is as soon as you can.”
He nods but truth is, it’s doubtful I or anyone on this team except for Dax will be able to go the funeral. Our schedule doesn’t wait for things like that and we have two away games in California this week followed by a home game on Saturday. I’m sure the management will be lenient with Dax missing out a few games even though he’s our first-line left winger but the rest of us won’t be given free leave.
At least I hope they’re lenient because Dax is the type of person to tell them to go fuck themselves if they were to demand he come back right away and miss the funeral or something. Then he’d get suspended without pay and the team would suffer for such an extended absence from him.
I shake Dax’s hand and pull him in for a half hug with a back slap. “Safe travels, man. Keep me posted on things.”
“Sure will,” he says as he pounds a fist against my shoulder blade. He pulls back and looks me in the eye. “Thank you for helping get me here.”
“Anything for you,” I assure him. We’re teammates, and that makes us brothers in a sense.
I watch him walk into the airport and when he’s out of sight, I let the Uber driver take me home. I tip him well and trudge up my steps. It’s almost midnight.
Pepper isn’t in my house and Lucy is flying solo tonight with Charlie. Needing to get some work done, Pepper opted to just stay at her place and I didn’t think it was that big a deal. Surely, we could spend a night apart.
Except…I glance over to her house and realize that with everything that happened tonight—losing a colleague and watching my friend grieve—I really, really would like Pepper to be with me.
It might be selfish but I don’t hesitate in pulling out my cell phone. Her house is dark and I know I’ll be waking her.