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The puck drops, and adrenaline releases in my body like it always does, but this time it’s joined by the intense urge to beat Eric Larose to a pulp. My eyes track him feverishly when he heads up the left side. He passes it off before I can check him.
I just need a chance.
I’m called off before I get one. Maybe it’s just as well, because me being focused on Eric means I’m not focused on the basket. My teammates sink in a goal before the first period. Everyone is pumped up during intermission. I watch my best friend fist bump a teammate with a satisfied smile. Is my personal vendetta a bad idea? I know Logan wants a Stanley Cup win so badly. I know we’re nearing the end of our ability to play at such a high standard. I’m not a kid anymore. This isn’t the playground… Iknowthis.
But I’m still blinded by some chivalrous need to teach Larose a lesson. I don’t get another chance to face him until the third period… I’m too seasoned not to be smart about it. To make it look like a legit fight. But pucks fly and goals are made and skates make snow on the surface. The game goes by like a haze until total clarity overcomes me. Finally, Eric Larose has the puck, and he’s coming straight toward me.
My skates are turbocharged, I hardly feel the ice beneath them, blitzing toward my enemy, my woman’s enemy, and I body check him so forcefully, we connect witha bone-jarring clash. He blasts off his feet and straight to the ice. I’m not even thinking when I throw my body down on top of him. Rage fills my every nerve. The thought of him hurting my woman for so many years fuels my fists like they have a mind of their own. My heart pumps painfully, rushing blood to my arms so I can pummel down.
Our teammates flood the ice, surrounding us, ready to jump in with support at any time. A blur of green has my back, purple behind him. The crowd barks around us, encouraging me to keep fighting. “Woof! Woof! Woof!”
Eric is no small boy. He pushes back up on his skates and smashes into me. But he thinks this is some ordinary fight. It fucking isn’t to me. Jolie’s pride and self-esteem are everything. Fury rushes to my limbs, and a fist makes contact with his jaw while fierce, enraged thoughts flood my veins.You stole her confidence. You tore her down.My height advantage gets the better of him, and I have him against the boards, uppercut after uppercut, trying to get him where it hurts, under the helmet…
Finally, a ref dares to get between us, and I know I’d better stop because I’m already going to the sin bin for this one. I can’t afford to be ejected. I skate away, ready to sit and stew in the penalty box. I’m not satisfied leaving Larose with just a bloody eye and a swollen lip. I leave him with some carefully selected words, hoping not to give myself away and at the same time tap into the real reason he deserved what he got.
“That’s from Hunter.”
The locker room post-game is celebratory, and spirits are high after our four-three win against the Huskies. It was anintense game, both sides fought with grit, and our center, Rosario, blasts a high-energy playlist after our showers.
Logan is uncharacteristically quiet when we gather around for Coach’s brief. Rosario cuts the music, and the room goes silent.
“Gentleman, that’s the intensity I’m looking for! I’m blown away by the teamwork. I haven’t had a team gel like this one in years, and you executed the prettiest on-ice choreography I’ve witnessed since Gretzky and Messier.” He laughs to himself. “Kidding. That’s sacrilege.”
Coach would never blow that much smoke up our asses.
“But seriously, if this team keeps playing hockey like that, we are making some memorable moments for our fans, this organization, and ourselves. You should be proud. I don’t want to dampen anything but I just want to add that we need to keep our noses clean.” He glances at me. “Dane, that’s two for two now… and the last fight led to injury.”
The first one wasn’t my fault, but I know better than to speak up.
“Let’s not do anything stupid, boys…” He speaks to everyone now. “One of the reasons we won tonight was we have a full, healthy roster. Let’s keep it that way. Rosario?” He glances at Rosario and fans his hand upward, telling him to blast those beats again.
Dance music floods the locker room again, and Logan and I sit, shoulder to shoulder, both tying our shoelaces, almost ready to get out of here. He hasn’t spoken much. We pretty much always leave together, but he seems to be dragging, and I want to get back to the Canyon tonight so I decide to grab my things and go.
“See you, man.” I make it two steps down the hallway when I hear his voice behind me.
“Dane!”
I turn, and he strides toward me, brows furrowed. “Which Hunter was that brawl for?”
I didn’t notice Logan come out on the ice when I fought Eric. But he must have been there with the others who came out to back me up.
“What do you mean?”I know exactly what he means.
“You heard me. You told Larose he got it for Hunter.”
I don’t want to lie. “Why are you asking?”
He runs his fingers through damp hair. “Why aren’t you answering?”
But before I say another word, he shakes his head, a disbelieving, flabbergasted smile on his face.
“I can’t fucking believe this.” He combs his fingers through his hair again. “You. It’s you.”
“Who’s me?”
“Are you and Jolie together?” He’s dead serious now. “Don’t fucking evade the question, Dane. Are you and my sister hooking up?”
I don’t want to lie. I don’t want to answer. But he reads me like a book after all these years of friendship.
