(Mack sends frank a bracelet but it has a tracking device in it and also reads frank’s heartrate)
The bracelet arrived in Chicago the following week inside a dark box with Frank’s name printed neatly across the lid, and because Frank lacked patience or respect for privacy, he opened it in the locker room while half the team gathered around to see what Macklin had sent.
Inside rested a slim black bracelet made from woven material and polished metal, designed simply enough that Frank could wear it with almost anything, with a small silver plate on the inside engraved with the date of the San Jose game.
Frank stared at it for several seconds.
“Oh, that’s fucking nice,” Ryan Donato said over his shoulder.
Bertuzzi reached toward the box. “Is it expensive?”
Frank slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch my shit.”
Foligno took the bracelet from the box before Frank could stop him and inspected the engraving. “The date you matched?”
Frank’s smile became softer. “Yeah.”
Connor, who had spent the previous week accusing Macklin of vandalism, looked at the bracelet and reluctantly admitted that it seemed thoughtful.
“That’s actually sweet,” Connor said.
Frank turned toward him with immediate triumph. “Say it louder.”
“You finally support true love.”
Alex Vlasic leaned down to inspect the bracelet. “Put it on.”
Frank fastened it around his wrist while the others made comments about whether Macklin had included a matching collar.
“He claimed you,” Slaggert said, nodding toward the bracelet.
Frank lifted his wrist and admired the way the black material rested against his skin. “As he should.”
Bertuzzi whistled. “Damn, Nazar’s somebody’s property now.”
“I’ve always been expensive property.”
Nobody knew that the polished metal plate contained a transmitter small enough to remain invisible beneath the engraving.
Nobody knew the bracelet synced with an application on Macklin’s phone, providing location information, movement patterns, and a continuous estimate of Frank’s heart rate.
Macklin had chosen the bracelet partly because Frank wore watches only occasionally, rarely removed woven bands unless they became damaged, and had once said that rings bothered him during workouts.
He had chosen black because it matched nearly everything Frank owned.
He had added the engraved date because it transformed the bracelet from a useful device into something Frank would become emotionally attached to.
The first time Frank put it on, Macklin watched a small signal appear on the private application and felt something inside him settle.
Frank was at the Blackhawks’ practice facility.
His heart rate was elevated, though Macklin knew from the time that Frank had probably just finished skating.
The location marker moved toward the locker-room area.
Macklin stared at it with quiet fascination.
Will passed behind the couch, glanced at the screen, and assumed it was a training app because Macklin closed it before the details became visible.
Frank called several minutes later with the bracelet visible on his wrist.
“You like it?” Macklin asked.
Frank held it closer to the camera. “Dude, I fucking love it.”
Frank looked offended. “Obviously.”
Macklin’s chest warmed. “Good.”
“The boys said you claimed me.”
Frank laughed, pleased by the blunt answer. “Possessive freak. I like it though.”
Macklin watched Frank twist the bracelet around his wrist and knew the exact rhythm of his heartbeat while he did it, though his expression remained sweet enough that Frank had no reason to question anything.
The bracelet quickly became part of Frank’s routine.
He wore it to practices, team meetings, flights, meals, and sleep, removing it only when required during games and placing it carefully inside his stall until he could put it back on afterward.
During stressful moments, he began rubbing his thumb across the engraved metal plate, finding comfort in the knowledge that Macklin had chosen it specifically for him and marked it with the date everything changed.
Before a difficult road game, Frank sat quietly in the hotel lobby while coaches discussed lineup adjustments, his leg bouncing beneath the chair and his thoughts moving too quickly, until his fingers found the bracelet and pressed against the engraving.
The tightness in his chest eased.
Macklin, watching the heart-rate reading spike and then slowly fall from hundreds of miles away, sent a message.
Frank looked down at his phone.
Macklin stared at the screen, realizing too late that he had no normal reason to ask at that exact moment.
Mack: you said yesterday you were nervous about tonight
Frank could not remember saying that, but he had complained about the matchup enough that it seemed possible.
Frank: little stressed but the bracelet helps
Macklin’s expression softened.
Frank: reminds me youre there even when youre not
For several moments, Macklin forgot about the tracker entirely and simply stared at the words.
Frank rubbed the bracelet again.
Later, during a call, Macklin made the mistake Connor had been waiting for, though even then Frank nearly allowed him to escape without suspicion.
Frank had gone out with several teammates after practice and FaceTimed Macklin while walking back toward his apartment, the Chicago night cold enough that his breath appeared in front of him while streetlights reflected against damp pavement.
“I hate when you walk alone this late,” Macklin said.
Frank glanced at the screen. “I’m like two blocks from home.”
Macklin’s pulse accelerated.
“How do you know?” Frank asked.
Macklin remained silent for half a second too long.
“You said you were leaving the restaurant,” Macklin replied.
“That doesn’t tell you where I am.”
“You showed me the street.”
Frank turned the phone slightly, revealing a row of buildings that could have been anywhere in the neighborhood.
“I looked up your area before.”
Frank’s eyebrows rose. “Why?”
“Because I wanted to know what it looked like where you live.”
The explanation was true, sweet, and sufficiently strange in a romantic way that Frank’s suspicion immediately weakened.
“You Google Street Viewed my apartment?” Frank asked, smiling.
Frank’s smile widened. “Okay, that’s adorable.”
The tracker app remained open on his laptop beside him, showing Frank’s location moving steadily toward home and his heart rate hovering slightly above resting level from the walk.
When Frank entered his building, Macklin said, “Good, you’re inside.”
Frank looked sharply at the screen again.
Macklin corrected smoothly. “I heard the door.”
A heavy door had closed behind Frank.
“Dude, you’re so fucking weird,” Frank said, though he sounded fond rather than alarmed.
Frank’s expression changed for the smallest moment, because neither of them had said the word directly yet, but then he looked away and rubbed his thumb across the bracelet.
“Yeah,” Frank said casually. “Probably.”
Macklin’s heart nearly stopped.
Frank continued walking toward the elevator like he had not just altered the entire structure of Macklin’s world.
The Blackhawks continued teasing Frank about being claimed, especially because he touched the bracelet whenever Macklin’s name came up and refused to remove it even when showering.
During breakfast on a road trip, Oliver pointed toward Frank’s wrist and asked whether the bracelet vibrated whenever Macklin required attention.
“No,” Frank replied. “He just texts me seventeen times.”
Connor looked over. “Only seventeen?”
Slaggert leaned across the table. “Does it have your owner’s phone number in case you get lost?”
Frank examined the metal plate. “Maybe it says, ‘Return to San Jose if found.’”
“Mack would put a reward,” Kaiser said.
“He’d put a threat,” Connor muttered.
Frank grinned. “Both are romantic.”
Foligno shook his head. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“I’ve never been subtle about liking attention.”
“That is the truest thing you’ve ever said,” Connor replied.
I have more but I’m going to bed
