36. Maverick
THIRTY-SIX
I’m not a violent guy.
I get into the occasional fight during games, a tussle where I throw off my gloves and get down to business, but most of the time, it’s for shits and giggles. Something to rile up the crowd that doesn’t have any real bite behind it.
Today, though, I’m on a warpath.
Cole Meyers is my target, and I’m not going to stop until I’ve broken him into a thousand pieces.
The rest of the guys feel the same way. I see it in their eyes as we take the ice for warmups. Disdain rolls off of them when they look at the Wildebeests bench, and I know tonight is going to be a fucking bloodbath.
I half-ass my stretches near center ice. It’s pointless to spend my normal amount of time getting my body loose and limber—I’m not going to be in the game long enough to care how my legs feel.
Cole skates up to me and gives me a wide grin. “Miller,” he says, like we’re best fucking friends. College bros in the same fraternity who partied together, and it makes me sick. “Nice to meet you.”
I’d love to put my hands around his throat. Wring his neck until he was out of air and couldn’t breathe. And when he begged for mercy, I’d only press harder.
“And who are you?” I bend down to fix my laces. Anything is better than looking at his stupid face.
“Cole,” he yells over the music. “Cole Meyers. I got called up for tonight’s game. It’s my first time in the NHL,” he says proudly, and I hum like I give a shit.
“Congratulations,” I toss back.
Passed around.
Everyone could have their fill.
I don’t care if he said it as a joke.
Whether it’s locker room bullshit he’s tossing around because he’s trying to be fucking funny.
This man is a predator and the scum of the earth, and I can’t wait to end him.
I take a breath and scan the rink, trying to calm down and ignoring the fucker in front of me. I spot Emerson finishing her stretches and talking with Hudson.
He’s making her laugh, telling some elaborate story with his hands. I smile when her shoulders shake and she tips back her head, her laughter echoing across the ice.
There’s not a lick of jealousy when I look at them. I don’t want to pull him away from her or act like an idiot so I can get her attention.
All I am is really fucking grateful.
I’m grateful for his cool demeanor and the way he’s keeping her company. I’m grateful he’s making sure there’s a smile on her face. I’m grateful when he glances over at me and gives me a single nod, telling me it’s okay.
“You all are having a good year,” Cole says, and I realize he’s been talking for the last fifteen seconds. “Playoff bound probably.”
“Looks like it.”
“My AHL team has been shit this season, and I really hope I can stay with the Wildebeests long-term. The AHL is filled with a bunch of has-beens, so it’s nice to be around some real athletes.”
My eye twitches.
Real athletes,like we don’t all play the same fucking sport.
I’m proud of myself for not already pummeling this fucker to the ground, but I have to be strategic.
Punching him in the face unprovoked before the game starts will get me arrested. As soon as the whistle sounds, though, anything goes.
I’m going to butter him up. Let him think I’m on his side with his holier-than-thou act, then pull the rug out from under him. Surprise him with a twist he’ll never see coming.
“Good luck out there tonight,” I say, and Cole blinks at me. He’s so delusional, he thinks I’m being sincere. “You’re going to need it.”
The horn on the arena clock sounds, and I skate toward my teammates. We form a huddle, and I sling my arms around Ethan and Grant’s shoulders.
“I know each of us has a personal vendetta going into this game, so I’m not even going to bother with the lecture about staying focused. However you want to take out that frustration is up to you, but know that I support you. I have your back. We’ll be spending a lot of time in the sin bin, and that’s fine by me,” I say.
“Can I say something?” Emmy asks, and I nod. “I’m not a woman who likes when people do things for her, and I’d never ask you all to defend my honor or anything like that. But knowing you have my back means a lot to me. I’m so lucky to play next to you all every night, and I wouldn’t want to call anyone else my teammates.”
“We love you, Emmy,” Grant yells, and he tries to jump in her arms. Her skate slips out from under her, and they both go tumbling to the ice.
“Pile on,” Ethan says, and other guys join them like we just won the Cup.
“Hey,” I say. “No getting injured before the game. We have business to take care of.”
“What’s your plan tonight, Cap?” Hudson murmurs, nudging my my side.
“The only thing I have planned, Hud, is that I’m going to spend fifty-eight minutes in the locker room after I get tossed, and you all are going to have to play without me.”
“When Emmy told us all of that…” He trails off and shakes his head. He’s always been sensitive, a guy with the utmost respect for women. I saw the horror in his eyes when he heard about her past, and it looked like he was going to be sick. “I don’t know what I want to do.”
“I guess we need to decide if we care about a loss or not. We’re three weeks out from the All-Star Game, and we’re sitting pretty at the top of our division. Third in the east, but we’re only two games off Boston for the top spot. I know what my answer would be and?—”
“Forget the win. This goes past hockey. This is personal,” he says, and he glances at me. “More so for some of us.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw the way you reacted when Emmy repeated what her ex said. I saw how you wanted to comfort her. You don’t have to tell me what’s going on with you two, but I’ve been playing behind you for years. I can read you like a book, Mav. She means a lot to you.”
“Yeah.” I swallow and watch Seymour pull her back on her skates. “She does. That’s why all bets are off.”
“That’s what I thought.” He clasps my shoulder. “Let’s give this asshole hell.”
“Get him,” I scream at Ethan from the bench, and he rams Cole into the boards so hard the glass shakes.
The crowd boos, asking for a penalty, and I know Ethan is flipping them off under his glove.
Five minutes of game time, and this dude’s been brutalized ten times. I almost feel bad for him, but then I see Emmy skate past me, and I think it’s not nearly enough.
Coach whistles, and I jump back on the ice, charging toward the puck. I catch a pass from Hudson and take off toward the goal on a breakaway. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Emmy open on my left.
“Red,” I yell. I pass to her and block the Wildebeests player on her heels, bumping him out of the way with my lower half. “Go!”
Emmy gets a burst of speed, and as she approaches the goal on a breakaway, she pulls back, a beautiful snap shot that sends the puck straight into the net.
It’s the same maneuver she did on me all those months ago when we had our first skate together, and my chest feels impossibly tight.
“Yes!” I scream, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her against me in a hug. Hudson crashes into us and Riley joins too. “That was perfect, Hartwell.”
“What a shot, Em.”
“Fuck, that feels good.” She laughs and wipes a bead of sweat from her cheek. “The nerves are gone now.”
“Thatta girl,” I murmur, and she fists the bottom of my jersey. “You’re incredible.”
“Thanks for the assist.”
“Told you I was going to work on it.” I grin when she shakes her head. “You all are going to have to finish it from here. I’m done being a nice guy, and I’m ready for some carnage.”
“Are you sure about this?” Emmy asks.
“Never been more sure of anything in my life, Red. I’ll be watching the rest of the game from the locker room.” I look at Hudson. “Think you could start a fight for me?”
“You want me to start it?”
“I know you’re not an instigator, but I’m going to be the one to finish it.”
Understanding dawns, and he gives me a firm nod. “You’ve got it, Mav.”
The crowd is antsy. Their team is losing, and as someone who’s lost a lot of games in his career, I want to give them something to be excited about.
The play progresses past center ice, and Ethan has the puck. Hudson hangs back, and as Cole starts to advance forward, he sticks out his skate and trips him.
Cole hits the ice face first, and the fans scream. He springs back up, ready to duel, and Hudson drops his gloves faster than the blink of an eye.
I give them a second to go at each other, and I have to give Hud credit. As a dude who never, ever dukes it out with anyone, he’s holding his own.
I skate up next to them and shake off my gloves, grabbing Cole by the back of his jersey.
“What the fuck?” he yells, and he stares at me with wild eyes. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“You want a list?” I punch him square in the jaw, and his face whips to the side. “Let’s start with Emmy.”
Cole tries to smack my shoulder, but I’m bigger than him. More athletic with more experience, and he doesn’t get close. “That whore? Who’s she fucking to get the starting role this time? Is it you, Miller? Your buddy Hayes? Or maybe both of you.”
A referee tries to grab me, but I use my size to my advantage and shrug him off. The fans in the front row of seats beat on the glass, a faint noise I barely hear because my next punch lands right in the middle of his face. Blood spurts from his nose, and I grin. Adrenaline pulses through me, and I haven’t felt this alive in years.
“Let me tell you something about Emmy, you small-dicked piece of shit. In fifteen years when she’s being inducted into the Hall of Fame and you’re a nobody who’s never accomplished anything in this sport, your kids are going to be talking about her.” I yank on his collar and pull him closer, making sure he catches every word. “You’re going to have to buy them her jersey, and you’ll tell them about the time you let her get away because you couldn’t stand the thought of being with a woman who was a better athlete than you. But guess what? She’s mine now, motherfucker, and I’m not going to let you disrespect her anymore.” My fist connects with his teeth, and I laugh when he whimpers in pain. “You want more? I can keep going.”
Cole breaks free from my hold and manages to throw a punch that hits my right eye. I stumble backward and grab his arm, tugging him down to the ice with me. I kick my legs free and flip us over, straddling him and cracking my knuckles.
I aim for his nose again. “That’s for saying she only has a job because she sleeps around.” I go for his jaw next, and something pops in his cheek. “That’s for saying you’d let your teammates touch her.” I move to his forehead and deck him there. “That’s for making fun of the books she likes to read.” My final blow is to his eye, and I hope I break his eye socket. “And that’s for getting to her before me.”
Chaos unfolds around us. Two refs try to pull me off, but it’s another Wildebeests player who yanks me away from Cole and slams me down. I get punched in the nose, and the copper taste of blood stings my tongue. A whistle blows, and Hudson is in front of me, helping me to my feet.
Cole lies motionless, his eyes closed and blood trailing down his face.
Good.
I kick his leg as I skate toward the locker room, already knowing my punishment.
I look toward the bench and see Emmy, her mouth half-open and her eyes wide. I grin at her, and before I head into the tunnel, I make a heart with my hands and hold it up to her. She tucks her chin and hides her smile.
Being on top of Cole helped me realize something.
I don’t want her as a teammate or someone I fuck multiple times a week.
I want her as so much more—a partner. A girlfriend. My best friend.
I don’t know if we lose the game or not.
I really don’t fucking care, because I’ve already won.
I have her, and she’s the greatest prize of all.