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Twenty seconds later, he ended it from his side.
There was that.
35
CRUZ
I was smashed up against the plexiglass, and threw an elbow back, pushing the guy off me. He grunted. “You’re toast, Styles. We gonna burn your ass up.” The ref hit his whistle, skating over, waving to the penalty box.
It was a good call, but the crowd booed.
“Whatever.”
“Penalty!” The ref went over to identify the actual call, but the guy, number 25, was already heading to the box.
Labrowski came over. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I turned to glare. It was our opposing team’s enforcer who’d come after me. He’d been going at me hard all night long, ever since Atwater went after their team’s lead scorer. Tit for tat, but I was getting sick of it.
“You good?” The ref came back, and I nodded, my ego more bruised than anything. He gave a nod and headed back to where he’d drop the puck. “Let’s play then.”
Labrowski patted my shoulder pad, nodding to the bench. “Line change.”
Fuck. It was early, but we headed over, jumping in as the others climbed over the wall and got onto the ice. The game was going a few seconds later. “Styles.” Atwater tossed me a water. I caught it as I sat down, squeezing the bottle, the water spraying through the cage and into my mouth.
The coach came over, leaning down. “How are you doing?”
I eyed him, giving him a quick nod. “I’m fine.”
“He’s been going at you all night.”
I was aware. “I’m good, Coach.”
He gave another brisk nod before moving on, hitting me briefly on the shoulder with his coach’s tablet. Atwater sat in the space he just cleared out of and bent forward. “Don’t worry. Keys’ got your back.”
Our enforcer and his enforcer. They’d been trading their targets all night long. Sometimes we didn’t use our enforcer, but tonight was a different matter. The whole game was worse than the others, but Sacramento’s team was living up to their reputation. They were rough and liked to fight dirty.
Rules were stricter in college than in the NHL, but these refs didn’t seem aware of that. They were letting too much go.
We were in our third period. They were trying to go hard on me this first game, tire me out for the second game. I gritted my teeth, knowing I couldn’t let it work.
“Go!” It was time for another line change.
The third line went out. We had the fourth still, and then it’d be my turn.
A few minutes later, we were on the ice.
I didn’t wait around.
Skating over, I stole the puck and off I went. The harder they went at me, the harder I played. I needed to remind them of that fact.
Keys went to the left wing so I used his shield, moved around to their center. Around their center. Their defense was coming up, and I zipped around one, back through, and there was an opening.
Labrowski was behind me.
I deflected, hoping he’d catch this fast enough.
I feigned with my stick, but tapped the puck back with my skate, right to Labrowski, and GOAL!
He saw my pass, having seen it eighteen other times this season.
The goalie had moved with me, so the goal was wide open.
The light lit up, and as I was circling behind the net, their enforcer was glaring at me.
I glared right back.
Two minutes later, the end of the game sounded.
We’d won, by our teeth.
My phone rang as I was walking into the hotel. I’d stayed late for an extra soak and rubdown. I needed it. The coach told me to head in earlier the next morning for another one. I’d need that too, though the most I needed right now was sleep.
Still, I answered, going to the corner and sinking down in a chair. “Hey, Mom.”
“How are you feeling?” She was chirpy, but concerned.
I winced. “My body feels like a lump of blue cheese, all curdled up into one big bruise.”
“Blue cheese?”
I sank lower in my chair. “Blue cheese.”
“He really went after you tonight.”
“We’re nearing playoffs. It’s expected.”
“I watch your games, Cruz. The other teams aren’t like this one.”
I was just so tired. My head felt heavy, and I rested back, closing my eyes. “I know, but I can’t do anything except not let them win.”
“They’re trying to slow you down for tomorrow’s game.”
“Yeah.”
She was quiet on her end for a beat. “I can’t give you any advice, so I’m just going to tell you that I love you, Cruz. I have your back. Titi too.”
“Thanks, Mom. I love you too. How’s Titi?”
She was quiet again.
I sat up, some of the tiredness starting to fade. “Mom?”
“Oh.” She laughed, a little abruptly and cut herself off. “Sorry. I–I wasn’t sure if I should even tell you or when to tell you, but–”
I sat farther up. “Mom? What’s going on with Titi?”
“Nothing like that. She’s–she’s perfect. She’s fine. But Sabrina Burford reached out.”
