Chapter 1
I skated off the ice with what little momentum I had left, coach had been tough on us this practice. Truth be told he hadn't been easy on us all season. Considering it had been 20 years since the Stanley Cup had graced our hallowed halls, I don't think I could blame him. We had run farther, trained harder, skated longer, and watched more hockey film than I could shake my stick at. But it was only the beginning of my third year at the NHL level.
I had been pulled up to the Bruins from their AHL team in Providence a mere two years before. I had worked my ass off for this, ever since I was a little kid I was on the ice. Every winter my dad flooded the backyard so I could have my own personal ice rink. Not that it was ever as good as the freshly groomed ice in my hometown Ice Arena. I come from Trenton, New Jersey originally, I know I know, please don't hold it against me. I played peewee, little league, jr. high, high school, college and finally got recruited to play for the Providence Bruins straight off the ice from UMass Lowell. I was living the hockey life, and loving it. Even if my teammates thought I was a little weird.
Us hockey players are all a suspicious bunch, from the strange rituals to the out there schedules we kept in order for the stars to line up so to speak. Now I don't necessarily believe that in order for my game to be on point that the stars have to be in the right alignment but I wouldn't want to anger the hockey gods now would I? I never showered in the locker room and I changed in the bathrooms away from prying eyes. The guys believed that I probably had some girls name tattooed on my chest or even some gnarly battle scar, but if they knew the real reason I would be fucked.
I quickly changed into basketball shorts, a hoodie and running shoes. Running a quick hand through my hair, making it stand on end, I made my way out of the locker room. Throwing a gruff later to all the guys as I walked out the door and ambled to my truck, which may or may not have been the most ideal thing for Boston, but I loved it. A brand new black Ford Raptor that I had taken to Hennessey Performance to turn into a 4x4 600 Twin Turbo VelociRaptor. My baby goes from 0-60 in 4.2 seconds and runs the ΒΌ mile in 12.9 110 mph, I probably didn't need it in the city confines but hell did I love it. The rumble, the power, the handling, and the sheer bad-ass-ery that goes along with owning a performance engine, even though it was situated in a truck.
I tried not to lay down rubber as I pulled out of the parking lot at the Warrior Ice Arena. I cruised through town thinking about what else I had to accomplish today, which included finishing the shopping to furnish my new apartment, buy new clothes, grocery shopping and security for the new place. I had finally broken down and left my old place across town, because while it was affordable it was a wreck waiting to happen. Especially since I was beginning to get more playing time on the ice and increased recognition from the fans and press, Cassidy had recommended the change about a month ago. Having finally made it official by having a couple of the guys help me move into my new condo about a week ago. I had them all over for pizza and some beer last weekend to thank them, and they all ooooh'd and awwe'd at my new trophy case, filled to bursting with all my medals, trophies and memorabilia.
I eased into the underground parking lot (a godsend in Boston) pulled into my designated space and killed the engine. Leaning back into my seat I turned off the mental switch in my brain, hopped out and grabbed my hockey bag from the bed of my truck. Taking the elevator to my condo, I was thankful when no one joined me. Using the key to open my door I dropped my bag in the alcove and basically dragged myself to the steam shower. Forcing myself to stay upright I washed and rinsed, before collapsing back into the wall and letting the multiple shower heads pound my aching muscles.
Thanking whoever designed this place for a large water heater, I rendered the water cold before returning to earth and switching the water off. Stepping out onto my heated mats and pulling a towel from the warming rack I quickly rubbed it over my hair before running it down my body. Now I am not what you think of when you think NHL player. I am leaner than most especially in todays game, but powerful thighs and shoulders make me a hitting force that you don't want to trifle with. Slender hips and quick feet make me wicked with a stick and considering that's how I make my living that's a good thing. The recruiters and training staff were always worried about my lack of bulk in comparison to my teammates but once they saw how I matched and outmatched them on the ice there were no more worries. Sure the trainers still come up with new training regimes for me to try and gain muscle mass, but it never seems to work. Though I am capable of handling the new weight, I just don't pack on the muscles like my teammates, which was just fine by me. I hauled my exhausted ass to bed, and without missing a beat, knowing my alarm was set for one hour, passed the fuck out.
Alarm blaring incessantly I pulled myself from slumberland and dragged ass to my closet before I was fully aware of my surroundings. Bumping into what I had believed was my closet it took my brain a second to correct myself and remind my muscles that I was no longer in my old apartment. So I begrudgingly open my eyes and navigated the boxes to my new walk in closet. Throwing on jeans a t shirt and a zip up I pulled on socks and shoes in my alcove and left my condo for the second time that day. Intent on finishing the shopping for myself and my apartment, because one could only eat so much takeout on paper plates with plastic cutlery.
Walmart was my best friend ( I know what you're all thinking, but there's no place better for cheap clothes and one stop shopping). I zoomed through the store avoiding the electronics because I knew I was headed to Best Buy, and was out in under 30 minutes. I threw the perishables into a cooler and everything else went into the back seat. Next on the list was Best Buy, which I excused the sales person and wrote down PUC numbers for her to retrieve at the counter before having everything delivered, included the big screens. That done I zoomed back to O'Learys furniture store because it was the closest to my house and I had already perused their inventory prior to moving in. Taking another list again I did grab a sales person to help be a guide and inform me of any additional colors, models and customer ratings. I ended up with a new bed frame, matching bedroom set, closet organizers, living and dining room set, end tables, bookshelves and most importantly an entertainment center. Everything I would need to complete the condo's transformation into my place. After arranging delivery I booked it back my apartment to get ready for my meeting with the security place that Alonzo had told me was "the best in Boston".
After wiggling into one of my game day monkey suits, I drove through downtown to a swanky black glass and metal building which loomed ominously over 10 stories above the city street. I pulled into the sparse parking lot at the back of the building before taking a deep breath and walking through the customer entrance to RangeMan Inc. and announcing my appointment with the Owner, one Ricardo Carlos Manoso. Or if you went by the card "Ranger."