Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
I promised Bex I wouldn’t start a fight and that I would keep my cool around Lehane. And now she’s here watching my every move. I can feel her eyes on me, hear her soft voice in my ear, telling me to back down. This dickhead makes it so hard not to lose control.
He’s goading me, taunting me to make the wrong move. Lehane deserves a beat down for what he did to my girl. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t do something about it when the asshole is right in front of me? This is my chance. A penalty is worth it. Isn’t it?
Tucker appears at Lehane’s other side helping where I am failing. Because I’m blowing it, my head totally fucked from what he said. I need all the assistance I can get. No one on my team knows about Lehane and Bex. They have no idea how much I want to beat the shit out of this stupid motherfucker.
I clench my jaw in anger, the pain from biting down on the mouth guard causing my jaw to pop. It does that sometimes. Ever since I fractured my cheekbone during a game in high school.
Tucker steals the puck from Lehane skating away in a frosty blur. But Lehane is not going anywhere. As he attempts to go after the puck, I push him into the boards, slamming him face first with my glove on the back of his head. I don’t care about the penalty.
Fuck, this feels good.
The referee calls a penalty on me—five minutes for boarding. And the linesmen pull us apart, one of them tugging on my jersey until I willingly skate over to the penalty box. Jamie looks at me and shrugs as if to ask why I would do something so stupid. I wish I could share this with him. For so long, I’ve wanted to tell someone in hopes I could find a solution for Bex.
Now, Boston is on the power play giving them a slight advantage over us for the next five minutes. I fucked my team, but I don’t regret it. We’ll make up the minutes. Our team has an eighty percent penalty kill percentage… but that’s usually with Jamie and me on the ice together.
I strip off my gloves and sit on the bench in the box, my anger radiating through me. I never allow anyone to fuck with my head during games. I’m always the calm, centered player on our team. Because I have to be. That’s why I am the team captain. But now I need someone to put my ass in check.
Coach Bryant glances over at me, his jaw set. He shoots me a warning look that says, Knock it the fuck off before I bench your ass. This game means a lot to him, to all of us. We need this win. The Frozen Four is so close, our team right there on the finish line. I have to keep it together.
Not until the third period am I on the ice again with Lehane. Tucker looks to me having just enough room to slap the puck to me. Tied 3-3 with Boston, we need this goal. I can’t go home with my head hung low and a point in the loss column.
Lehane is on me this time, right on my ass, sweeping his stick in an attempt to take the puck from me. He’s a dirty player. I’ve seen him do sneaky shit dozens of times without the refs catching him. I switch the puck to my weak side, and Lehane swings his stick at my leg, the move clearly intentional.
I’m waiting for the referee to take his head out of his ass and call a penalty for slashing. The bastard gets away with it like he does everything else, which only fuels my rage.
I pass the puck to Tucker with just enough clearance to sail past Lehane’s skate. Tuck takes the shot, and with seconds left on the clock, the horn sounds, blaring through the event center.
I raise my arms in the air to celebrate our win about to join my teammates, when someone punches me in the back with their glove. Spinning around, I shove Lehane. Stumbling backward, he smirks. He removes his gloves dropping them to the ice. I do the same because I’m not backing down from him.
As we square off, he points to the stands—where Bex is sitting next to Taylor. “I still remember her perfect pink nipples. Her tight pussy. She’s a good fuck, isn’t she?” I want to rip the stupid grin from his lips. “Your girl can suck a cock like a whore on—”
Before he can finish his sentence, I land a punch to his jaw. I keep swinging, backing him up against the glass as I dodge his fist. He gets a good hit on me, on the right side of my nose that sends a shooting pain through my face. Our teammates surround us. The linesmen try to pull us apart.