Chapter 19
Andre gaveme an earful about Morgan missing today’s game. I don’t know why he cares whether or not she is here, but his constant harping on her is grating my nerves. Only a handful of partners are at every game. Morgan has a job and life. She can’t always drop everything to be here. If I don’t care, why does he?
Annoyance sits heavy in my chest as I wrap my stick for today’s game, partly due to Andre’s latest lecture but also because we’re playing our division rivals.
“You good?” Fitz asks as I rip off the tape and start over.
“Yeah,” I grunt.
“Tabby told me Morgan isn’t coming. Everything okay there?”
“Fine. She had a rough flight and wants to take it easy at home.”
“Gotcha. The girls can get together another time. Tabby will have to terrorize Veronica by herself.”
I smirk. Veronica may be the wife of our captain, but she is a stuck-up bitch. She thinks bagging a number one draft pick eight years ago makes her queen of the team. Most of us have nothing to do with her or the WAG activities, but I kept my distance after how she treated Morgan. Knowing Morgan doesn’t have to deal with her negative energy tonight does lighten my mood slightly.
The tension in the air is palpable during the anthem. We’ve always had a tumultuous relationship with Vegas. One of their defensemen, Kragers, always plays this side of too rough and hardly ever gets called. The two of us are evenly matched in stature, but I’m faster, which grinds his gears.
The weight of his gaze rests on me during warmups and the pregame ceremony. Since we’re both starters, we match up on the ice for the puck drop.
“Heard you got a hot new piece,” he jeers as we wait for the ref’s signal.
“Watch it,” I growl, voice laced with a warning he doesn’t heed. He’s never had anything he can use to rile me up until Morgan.
“The guys and I plan on heading to the club she works to celebrate after we win. I heard they have special body shots. I can’t wait to see for myself.”
That’s all it takes for me to get in his face. Logically, I know Morgan isn’t working tonight or even do body shots, but the idea of him being near her makes my blood boil.
“Fuck. Off,” I seethe.
“That’s not what she’ll be saying later.”
I move to jostle him, but he jets off. The bastard distracted me from the start of the game. His team has the puck, and I’m stuck playing catch-up.
They manage to score, but several possessions later, so do we. We head into the second period, tied 1-1. Similar to the previous puck drop, Kragers is in my face talking shit. This time, I ignore him, which pisses him off more. Racing down the ice with the puck, I pass to Connor right as Krager slams me into the boards hard. He should be called for cross-checking, but the referees don’t see it. Fans are booing as my coach yells from the bench at the missed call.
Shaking him off, I go after the puck and try to make a play. Vegas regains possession and barrels toward Danvers, only to be cut off by Mikelson. The puck is passed to Troy and set up for a shot at Vegas’ goal. Realizing I’m about to outrun him, Krager grabs my jersey in a blatant hold and throws me to the ground.
I pop back up to assist my teammates, but he is all over me again. He checks me into the boards a second time. As we scramble for the puck, he continues his earlier shit-talking.
When his words don’t have the desired impact, he pulls out his dirty tricks, hoping he won’t get called. I’m ready for his antics and fight back just as hard. Connor and one of Vegas” other defensive players join the scuffle, and my helmet gets knocked off as we fight for possession.
I knock the puck through everyone’s legs, hoping it makes it back to Troy, but before I can see if it does, everything goes dark.