Standing Tall

"Was everyone behaving themselves this morning?" Rebecca asked Johanna as the stylist worked on her hair.

"For the most part...Claude and Wayne were tormenting Brayden and Jake because of their hangovers, but at least they were all upright and semi-functioning," Johanna laughed. "But Mrs. Hartnell said she'll make sure they stay in line and on time. Not that Scott needs any help...he would have been at the club at six this morning if they were open."

"I'm not surprised," Rebecca laughed, "He's been so excited all week, he's actually been driving me a little bit crazy."

"I was so surprised to see him awake and in the kitchen when I came downstairs. I don't know that he slept," Johanna sounded concerned.

"He probably didn't. Which won't bode well for our wedding night," Rebecca smirked.

"If I know Scott, I think you'd have to hit him over the head to get him to sleep tonight," Johanna chuckled.

******************************

After they finished eating breakfast, they each took a shower and started getting dressed. Joy Hartnell threatened them that if they got their tuxedos wrinkled or stained that they would have to answer to her.

Scott, of course, was the first one dressed and back downstairs, shortly followed by Claude. The two friends stood on the back deck of Kimmo's house discussing the timeline for the day and running through the checklist of things they needed to remember to bring to the club.

"You have the rings, right?"

"For the one-hundreth time...yes. They're right here," Claude said as he patted his jacket breast pocket.

"Just making sure. Trying to cover everything. It's gotta be perfect," Scott said.

"I know buddy. It will be. You've been planning it since you found out Rebecca was pregnant," Claude responded.

"I knew before that I wanted to marry her, but it wasn't until after that that I think she realized I was serious," Scott joked.

"Before or after we dealt with her ex?" Claude asked.

"After...but she still doesn't know about that. So don't accidentally slip like you did about knowing she was pregnant G," Scott reminded.

"I know, I know," Claude chuckled. "Dude, he was so scared we were gonna kill him. It was great."

Scott laughed as he remembered the last time he saw Brad....

Following the judges ruling, Brad had stormed out of the courtroom and when he had reached his car, was met by Claude, Brayden, Luke, Kimmo, and Braydon Coburn. They "convinced" him to leave with them, Scott wasn't exactly sure how they did it, he just knew the end result. When Rebecca and Scott left the courtroom, he told her that he had to go to a team meeting and that he'd be back at her house in time for dinner.

Scott drove to the Wells Fargo Center and entered through the employee entrance and headed for the rink. The day before, Scott had called Paul Holmgren and asked if there was any way that they would be able to have private ice time for a couple of hours. When Paul asked what for, Scott had simply responded with, "It's for Rebecca."

Since the Sixers were on a road trip the ice would still be set up from their game the night before. Scott walked down the corridor leading to the ice and stopped at the benches. He looked out onto the ice and watched his five teammates skating slow, lazy circles around the goal. In net, instead of Steve Mason or Ray Emery, there was Brad, with his arms outstretched and tied to either goal post.

Scott sat down on the bench and put on his skates. When he finished, he grabbed a stick and a handful of pucks and stepped out onto the ice. He skated to the blue line, dropped the pucks on the ice, and stared at Brad. Claude skated over to the bench and pucked up a bucket of pucks and skated over next to Scott. He kicked the bucket over with his skate so that the pucks all slid across the ice down the blue line.

The remaining teammates formed a line like a firing squad, shifting pucks back and forth with their sticks. After a moment, Scott skated halfway to the goal. "Brad, it ends today. You heard the judge. What you did was maniacal and hurtful. After today, do not contact Rebecca or try to get in touch with Tyler. They do not want to have anything to do with you. They are not your family. They are my family...our family," he said as he motioned to the men behind him. "If we find out that you're even within one-hundred yards of either of them...you're a dead man."

"Fuck you Hartnell!" Brad yelled. A puck whizzed by Brad's head at ninety miles an hour and ricocheted off the glass into the corner. Scott glanced over his shoulder to see four of his teammates looking at Kimmo. Kimmo shrugged his shoulders and said, "Couple inches to the right."

Scott turned back towards Brad. "That was a warning. We're not going to give you many."

"I don't give a shit. You think I'm going to give her up that easy?" Brad scowled at him. "You don't know who you're dealing with."

Another puck went flying by Brad, this time coming off Claude’s stick. "You don't know who you're dealing with," Scott said. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to be hit by a puck? We do. It's not pleasant when we're wearing pads. Can't imagine what you'll feel without them." Three pucks zoom by Brad, two landing inside the net and one clanging off the right post.

The standoff went on for twenty minutes, until Claude sent a puck into Brad's gut. "What the fuck!" Brad shouted.

"You can get out of here...all you have to do is tell me this is the last time we'll have to have this conversation," Scott said. "If not, that puck that just hit you...there will be more." Scott turned to Claude and asked, "How much did you put behind that?"

"Probably about forty percent," Claude answered.

Scott turned back to Brad. "Forty percent hurts, doesn't it? He's just warming up. How far are you willing to go? We can do this all night," he paused for a moment. "Tell me we won't have to do this again."

Brad glared at Scott and his teammates for a moment before he said, "I hate you. Why should you get them? What makes you so goddamn special?"

"Because I don't need to trick her into marrying me. I'm not going to walk out of her life after she's had my baby, and I'm certainly not going to stay away for fifteen years and think that I deserve her back!" Scott’s tone of voice got louder and more stern as he answered him. Another puck hit Brad in the gut.

"Sixty percent," Claude said.

Brad grimaced in pain, wanting to fall to the ice and shield himself from any more pucks but couldn't. "Fuck you Giroux," he said through gritted teeth. Another puck landed against his stomach.

"Sixty percent," Brayden said.

"FUCK!"

"Anytime you're ready...we can all go home. I know I've got plans with a beautiful woman, and I'm sure my friends here have things to do. Just say the words and my boys will drive you back to your car and you can move on with your life. But you're not leaving here until I hear the words," Scott said calmly.

Kimmo and Braydon Coburn, located on the far ends of the line, both reached back with their sticks in the air to prepare for the shots they were going to hurl at their captive. Brad's eyes darted back and forth between the two, and just as they started to lower into their swings he yelled, "ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! I'LL LEAVE THEM ALONE!"

Scott skated over to the goal, leaned down and held his stick in both hands against his thighs. "Smart decision. Don't make me regret letting you live." As he skated back towards the opening in the boards he said, "Get this piece of trash off our ice."