Wild Desire

WILD DESIRE

Wild Series: Book 7

L. R. Wards

 Copyright 2015 L. R. Wards

Published by the author.

This book may not be reproduced or copied in any written or electronic form without the permission of the author.

This is an unedited rough draft given for the use on Obooko only. If this work appears on any other site it was not from the permission of the author.

Any relationship between names, events and teams in this book is purely coincidental. There was no intent by the author to infringe on names under copyright, trademark and/or ownership

The Wild Series

Wild Obsession

Wild Heart

Wild Rush

Micah Rush

Hartley’s Crush

Wild Ride

Wild Desire

~Chapter One~

Fuck yeah! shouted Micah thrusting his arms in the air holding his hockey stick high in celebration. That’s all he got out before he was mobbed by his teammates congratulating him.

Not everyone was as happy. The arena filled with sighs of disappointment from the crowd when his puck missiled over the left shoulder of the goalie. It struck the crossbar with a loud resounding clang before it settled into the back of the net. It was so fast, the goalie didn’t even see it until he heard the dense rubber hit cold metal behind him. Then he turned and looked over his shoulder. Seeing it buried in the back of his net, he groaned and looked up at the Jumbotron in defeat to see the replay. You’ve got to be kidding me. Then he silently cursed the captain of the other team.

The goal may have only been five minutes into the first period but it set the tone of the game for the visiting team. It boosted their confidence. Unfortunately it didn’t do much for the home team. This was reflected by the goalie thwacking his stick on the ice in frustration followed by a curse that wouldn’t be televised.

There were cheers from the few devoted fans that made the three our journey to Seattle from Vancouver but they were drowned out by the rising grumblings of locals. It was the downside of being in another team’s arena. However, the discontent of the crowd fell on deaf ears of the visiting team, the Vancouver Vikings. Micah Rush and his line mates, Tyler Hartley and Mark Richards were busy celebrating with exuberant embraces and hearty pats to pay attention to the angry fans banging on the Plexiglas behind them. The two defensemen joined them from the blue line. One of them was Micah’s younger brother Cole. Then they skated in single line by their team’s bench to exchange glove to glove congratulations with everyone else.

In the last three meetings with this team, the Seattle Scorpions, Vancouver won. That didn’t mean that the other team was far behind them in points, because they weren’t. They may lose against them but they won the majority of their games against the other matchups in the league. Yet, losing to Vancouver was a sore spot with them especially since there was a lot of rivalry between the players in the past few years. The losses this season and the history between the two teams meant the Scorpions were going to do their best to win. That meant it was going to be a hard, physical, fast night.

Hell yeah, thought Mark. This was his kind of hockey!

Mark then saw Micah give Tyler a friendly shove as they went onto the player’s bench to switch lines. He got the assist on Micah’s goal who now led the franchise history in points surpassing his own record from two years ago.

Tyler Hartley was Micah Rush’s best friend and they played like they were telepathic with one another. It was no wonder. They had grown up together playing hockey under the guidance of Micah’s father, Jason ‘Dutch’ Rush since they were in kindergarten.

Everyone who knew about hockey, knew who Dutch was. He was someone that young hockey players strive to be. He had won the championship cup twice in his career before he retired. He was known for a very physical playing style and always led the league in penalties. That didn’t mean he was a goon. He played great hockey with phenomenal skill. Back then, it was something that stood out for a defenseman. On the other hand, his son Micah wasn’t such a physical player even though he could be, but he did take after his father in skill and height. Then again, they also played different positions. Micah was a center, so the skills were necessary, and he didn’t fight because he chose not to, not because he couldn’t. Mark had seen him lose his cool a few times, and it didn’t take much for him to beat the snot out of the other player. His size wasn’t just for show. Dutch trained him well and it was proven when Micah was drafted in the first round as the first pick. He had been with the same team since. The previous owner, Pierre LeBlanc, then enlisted Dutch as a consultant. Dutch was always around to watch Micah practice and Pierre had been practically begging him to join their team. He finally relented. Pierre had idolized Dutch since he played years ago. Then, with Dutch’s handy negotiations, a few years later they got Tyler. Since then the team was practically unbeatable. However, it wasn’t until Mark came along that they took their first championship.

Not everyone liked Micah’s father, but they sure as hell respected him. He was more knowledgeable about the game than anyone Mark knew. Dutch was now the General Manager of the team, while rumor had it, Micah’s wife owned it. The previous owner was her father. He died of a heart attack a few years back so she inherited it. However, he was pretty sure she gave Dutch complete control over the club. Hailey would much rather be a wife and mother and leave the hockey business to the men. It wasn’t that she didn’t know anything about hockey, she did. It would actually surprise people in how knowledgeable she was. It was enough to draw tremendous admiration from her husband’s teammates, including Mark, who honestly believed women didn’t have a place in hockey.

Hailey’s understanding stemmed from her father’s devotion to the sport and her being his only child. She was practically raised on the ice since she could walk. Mark had actually seen her play when Micah was trying to get her to forgive him over some argument they had. She was pretty good. Not league good, but decent enough to keep Micah infatuated. It was the first time he’d met Hailey and she certainly made an impression. None of the team really knew she existed because her father had forbidden her to be around the team. Yet, somehow Micah found her, and kept her. He smiled to himself remembering how smitten he was with her, and still is. Who could blame him? Hailey was a sexy auburn-haired bombshell.

Even though he knew she owned the club now, there was a time a few years ago where Mark had heard a rumor that she had actually given the team to Micah. Of course he denied it. Even if it was true he could understand why he wouldn’t admit to it. The guys would harp on him about money, salary caps and other things that Micah didn’t want to deal with. Administrative issues were definitely not his favorite thing. Besides, Micah’s heart was the game, and next to his family, that needed to be his focus. His father, on the other hand, really knew the ins and outs of the organization and ran the club well. In other words, he knew how to play the ‘game’ around the game on the ice. Furthermore, the players wouldn’t challenge him easily because he was intimidating at the best of times. Yet, he was also fair. Not many players could say that about their team’s GMs.

Yet, Mark didn’t always feel that way.

When he was traded from Philadelphia and first placed on Micah and Tyler’s line, he felt completely out of place. Philly was the team he was drafted to at nineteen, and he thought of them as family away from home. Then, to add insult to injury, he was blindsided by the decision and on a plane an hour after a game. He was hurt and angry. He played his heart out for Philly and when his contract was up, he fully expected to be resigned. He wasn’t, and there was no indication from the General Manager or the owner that it he was available. It just didn’t make sense. He was on top of his game, played great, and gave it everything he had. He’d felt betrayed, abandoned and alone.

It was on the plane ride to Vancouver when he realized that he was young and naïve and quickly learned that this was a business, not a relationship. He also didn’t think he could make friendships like he had on his first professional team. Bitterness crept in. This was a job and nothing more. Never again would he put so much into his playing.

Then again, he didn’t expect Dutch Rush.

From the beginning it seemed like he was out to get him. It felt as though Dutch didn’t like him all from the way he insisted on working him. He had to stay longer after practice, come to the optional skates when others didn’t, and not once did he compliment him. Mark always thought himself to be in great shape, but he was practically in pieces after one of Dutch’s workouts. To top it off, Dutch was on the ice seeing to his practice personally. It made him feel like he’d done something wrong, that he wasn’t good enough. He never yelled at him like the rest of the trainers, but he didn’t have to. There was power in his voice as he spoke in the same even tone, and a look in his eyes that could easily make you feel like garbage without even saying a damn thing. It was more effective than a drill sergeant.

Christ, and did he ever smile? The man was as intimidating as the bloody devil.

Several months passed and Mark became more miserable. It showed in his game. He was screwing up, getting penalties, and Dutch made him aware of every single mistake. He worked him harder, and made him feel the weight of the team losses. Furthermore, he felt no closer to any of his teammates.

His new line mates, Micah and Tyler, were as close as brothers and Mark didn’t think he’d ever be able to join that friendship. Thankfully he was wrong about that. After five years on the same line the three of them grew tight.

Still, in the beginning, Dutch didn’t make his transition easy. Mark was close to giving up. Unfortunately Dutch saw that and things just got worse. He told him to pull his head out of his ass and play some decent hockey. There was no sympathy and he seemed as if he hated him. Mark never had to deal with defeat before. He was very self-assured since he was in his teens because of his talents. Yet, Dutch was a legend and being a disappointment to him was crushing mentally.

First he threatened to pull him off the first line and put him on the fourth. When that didn’t work, he started threatening to send him to the farm team if he didn’t pull it together. He was close to just telling him that he’d take the affiliate league just to get away from him. Honestly, Dutch didn’t even have to say a word. One disappointed look from those pale intelligent eyes could crush him. He felt worthless and guilty because he was damaging the team and Dutch’s constant reprimanding just exacerbated it.

Then everything changed.

It was after a horrid practice and Mark must’ve looked completely defeated when Micah Rush came in the dressing room. Mark was sitting on the bench with all of his gear on because he was too damn sore and exhausted to remove anything yet. Sweat poured off him in a steady drip, down his forehead, his nose, and soaked the floor at his feet. He placed his elbows on his knees and bowed his head in his hands. His eyes traced the path of his laces on his skates while he reflecting heavily on everything. His head was still throbbing with exertion, and because of it, felt like his eyes were going to pulse out of his head. Holy hell, He mumbled to himself. He was one of those kids in the midget league that idolized players like Dutch and disappointing him day after day was almost unbearable. Fuck.

Then he felt someone watching him.

Except for the support staff he thought everyone had gone until Micah took the seat beside him. The captain must’ve felt it was time to say something that particular day. He’d obviously observed Dutch as he ran Mark through drill after drill personally until he couldn’t even remember his own name.

Micah never said anything until Mark lifted his head and met his impressive eyes. Micah possessed the same color of eyes as his father, but they weren’t as hard. He could see the understanding in them, and more surprising, empathy. It was the last thing he expected from the team captain after the way he’d been screwing up.

It turned out that Micah may be Dutch’s son, but in no way did that make it easier for him. It was in that moment he realized that Micah was always on the ice when he was. There were no optional skates for him either. He was too cynical to notice it at the time but the captain kept pace with him, never complained and did as his father instructed.

He hates me.

Micah shook his head slightly keeping his expression serious. It seems like it, but he doesn’t.

He hates me, and now he’s trying to kill me.

No, he’s trying to find your passion.

That’s bullshit. Yeah, he had trouble believing that. Micah’s expression didn’t change. It was as if he expected the reaction. When he finally did speak, it wasn’t what he expected.

"He knows how you play because he’s been watching you for a long time Mark. None of that is showing here. You’re angry and you play angry. You somehow lost sight of why you wanted to play hockey on that plane ride from Philly several months ago. It’s not about the money or the fame. It’s about the love of the game. All the greats know that. You know that. Yet you play with a chip on your shoulder. He tapped his blonde head with his index finger. You lost the intuition, and for some reason, the heart to play with passion."

Whose fault is that?

Micah narrowed his gaze. Yours, and you know it, he accused. You think you were betrayed, but you weren’t. You need to keep your ego out of the game. There’s no room for that in great teamwork—or this hockey club.

Mark grit his teeth and turned away. Yes, he was full of self-pity. He thought he was worth more than what Philly did to him.

That’s when Micah dropped a bombshell and told him that it was Dutch himself that initiated the trade on getting him from Philly. Normally Micah would have never told a player that, but Mark looked close to giving up and they needed him. Dad’s been after you for two years. When he heard your contract was up with Philadelphia, he jumped on it.

That was a complete shock. Mark couldn’t help but let his jaw drop. The great Dutch Rush wanted him?

I swear it’s true. Micah said seeing his expression. Dad’s been in negotiations for months. Micah started stripping off his gear so he could go shower. He’d said enough. Mark could do what he wanted with this information, either quit, or try harder.

Mark sat straight, with some effort, and stared at the team captain. It took him a few minutes to absorb what he’d said. All along he thought Philly was to blame for the trade. There was no explanation when they told him he was going to Vancouver. Then, he thought Micah was lying just to make him feel better. However, he got to know the man after playing with him for the past few months. He knew that Micah didn’t lie or give praise lightly. To Mark, it was an extreme compliment of his skills. Dutch must’ve seen something that he knew would work with Micah and Tyler.

Well, he was right.

Mark started feeling that passion for the game again and began playing better. The approval in Dutch’s eyes was enough to give him the strength to keep improving. That didn’t mean he let up on him because he didn’t. It just gave him a different perspective and he took those gut wrenching practices with vigor.

Since that day, it had taken a few years for them to find their legs working together, but thanks to Dutch, it was worth it. They became the best first line in the western division and had two championship cups under their belts and were trying for a third. If it wasn’t for Micah he would have given up.

It was that pivotal moment in the dressing room several years ago when he realized that Micah Rush had earned every thread that created that ‘C’ on his chest. He kept the morale in the team, led by example, and put in extra hours on the ice, above and beyond what anyone else did. It was uncanny now he could read his fellow teammates and approach them when they were having problems. Mark had seen him do it many times and appreciated the level of interest he had in their well-being. He was the face of preference for the media too. Every time a sports magazine came out about hockey, Micah’s face was on the