Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
“Two! One!”
The crowd roars louder than I’ve ever heard before as I leap out of the penalty box and land on the ice.
Maddock turns to me with a grin.
I grit my teeth and let out a carnal growl as I throw my gloves down and charge him.
He tosses his gloves onto the ice and meets me halfway, fists cocked and grinning.
Why the fuck is this guy grinning?
Doesn’t he know who I am? Doesn’t he know what’s about to happen?
Oh well, he’s going to fucking find out.
The refs suddenly realize they’re at work and skate over to stop us.
I turn to the one headed for me and give him a warning look. When he keeps coming, I growl at him like a feral animal. That’s enough to make him back away with wide eyes.
The ref headed for Maddock isn’t as lucky. Maddock pushes him with one hand and he falls onto his ass.
The crowd is on fire as we square up and begin.
We go at it hard. I grab onto his jersey and throw haymaker after haymaker after haymaker, landing savage brutal punches on his eye, his forehead, his cheek, his jaw.
He’s doing the same. He’s got a hold of my jersey and he’s cracking me just the same, slamming those big vicious knuckles into my face over and over and over.
It’s a battle of wills. A test of strength.
Who’s going to drop first?
It’s not going to be me.
The crowd tires before we do. The sound of the hollering lowers as we continue beating each other to a pulp, punching each other until we can barely lift our arms.
There’s blood everywhere. I feel it leaking down my face. I feel it coating my knuckles, splashing all over the ice every time I connect.
But I don’t stop. This is a point of pride. I ain’t going down.
I’m still Tucker fucking McKinstry. I’m still the king of this icy jungle.
I don’t feel any pain. I never do until later. Much later when the swelling starts.
All my focus is on trying to inflict the most amount of violence. To extract the most amount of blood.
I’m focused on dominating.
I’m focused on winning.
Maddock’s grip on my jersey loosens. He’s breathing heavily and barely able to throw any more punches.
He’s almost done.
I get a second boost of adrenaline.
My grip tightens. My fist clenches harder.
I crack him with a hard uppercut, putting my whole body into it. He grunts as his head snaps back. His helmet flies off. It bounces away on the ice as I connect again, this time on his cheek. He gurgles as a new cut splits open on his skin.
His legs buckle with the next punch.
One more and he’s out.
I launch my famous roundhouse right as hard as I can. It connects with his jaw.
The crowd lets out a collective gasp when they hear the crunching even way up in the cheap seats. I grin as I watch his eyes roll back and his energy give out.
He collapses onto the ice, out cold.
The crowd explodes into cheers when he’s splayed on the ground, arms and legs out like he’s about to make a snow angel.
It’s time for my signature move.
I swoop down and grab his skate.
I’m bleeding from multiple places as I skate over to the Centaur’s bench, dragging the unconscious beast behind me.
The crowd gives me a standing ovation, hollering as loud as they can as I drop him in front of the Centaur’s bench and then head directly to the penalty box without being told.
Sebastian is shaking his head, chuckling as he watches me go. The other team is not laughing. They’re all keeping their worried eyes on me as they stay out of my reach.
“Tucker!” a woman screams, pounding the glass as I skate by.
I turn to her and she holds up her sign.
Go out with me Tucker! I love you!!
She’s jumping up and down as I skate on by.
No thanks.
She’s pretty and looks nice enough, but I don’t want anything to do with her or any other girl.
I’m not interested in love.
I’m not interested in anyone.
Monsters like me are made to be alone.
It’s just better that way.
I glide into the penalty box and take my usual seat on the bench.
The crowd is still roaring in excitement as the ref skates over and closes the door, locking me in my cage.
“Five minutes,” he says before blowing his whistle and skating away.
Blood is dripping all over my jersey and gloves.
I see the red spots on the ice and exhale long and hard.
That was my toughest challenge yet.
But I’m still the top enforcer in this league.
I’m still in charge.
And anyone who wants the title is going to have to take it from my dead bloody hands.
Or, they’re going to die trying.
5:00
Chapter Two
Jane
“So, is he like stylish?”
“Tucker?” Alina asks with a laugh. “No! Think mountain man thrift store. Old jeans and a flannel shirt. Scuffed-up boots. That kind of thing.”