Chapter 73
TYLER
Third period was frustrating. It was back and forth the entire time.
I got the puck. They took it back. Sunny got it, passed it, and they intercepted it.
We checked each other hard into the boards.
That was the game but tonight was especially rough.
I wanted another goal. I wanted two more, and then we’d have some room to breathe.
But Montreal was on our ass. When we got down to the two-minute mark, their goalie skated off and an extra shooter came on the ice.
When our line changed, I stayed, along with one of our defensemen.
Daniel was on the ice, so I wasn’t going anywhere.
During the change, they took hold of the puck and tried to make a run for the net.
They were passing, trying to draw us out, but we held them in place.
They couldn’t get near the goal, and they weren’t getting a clear shot.
Then one of their guys swung to pass and missed.
I shot forward, nabbing the puck. And I was gone.
They were all behind me, and it was an empty net.
I just needed to clear their last line. Two of their guys were closing in, so I tried tossing the puck into the air and over their heads.
It went up as one of their guys hit me and the other tried to catch the puck in the air.
He missed. It was too high, and I swung around, still with a clear line.
Suddenly it was a race. The puck was sliding just to the side of the net. If I got control, I could tip it in.
Their fastest guy wasn’t Connors. It was a guy named Estaban, and I assumed it was him coming after me. I reached the puck and glanced back. It was Estaban. He was closing in.
He expected me to tip the puck in, so he had his stick out, trying to block it. Instead I pulled to the side, and he couldn’t stop. He tried to brake by grabbing the net, but it didn’t matter. He sailed past me, and then I tipped the puck in.
The horn blasted. The red light flashed. Goal!
Throwing my arms in the air, I skated toward my bench to meet my teammates in a celly. We had won. 3-1.
“Fuck yeah, buddy!”
Just as I reached my first teammate, someone shoved me from behind.
“What?” I turned to look back, and my teammates were already in the scrum.
“Fuck off! Go fuck yourself.”
“I don’t think so,” Bruge joined the fight.
It took me a second to realize what had happened. Jesse and Sunny had come off the bench to greet me and were now being held back by two Montreal players as Estaban tried to hold back Connors. He was spewing shit, trying to get to me.
“Fuck you, Griffin! You fucking piece of shit. You’re pathetic.”
I laughed, tipping my head back. “Whatever, Connors. Get over it.” I gestured to the score. “You lost.”
“Yeah? Well, go fuck my sister some more, then. You two deserve each other.”
The game was over. The score was set. I was going to destroy him.
I shook my head, skating over to him, all nice and chill.
But as I went past Brick, he took my stick from me.
Bruge took my glove. Sunny took my other glove and by that time, I was right in front of Daniel.
I tipped my chin up. “You want to repeat that part about your sister again? I didn’t quite catch that. ”
He snarled, lunging for me, but Estaban still held him back. “You fucking heard me. You were always obsessed with my family. What? You had to find the female version of me to fuc—”
I walloped him.
He didn’t see it coming. Estaban didn’t see it coming. And before either could recover, someone yanked Estaban out of the way and I hit Daniel again, hard enough that he tipped over into our bench. I followed, going for him again, except this time, he shook it off enough to start fighting back.
Finally. Fucking finally. I had my hands on him, and I could hit him all I wanted because of what he’d said. That was on tape. He’d come at me after the game was done. He’d shoved me from behind. I was due this fight, and I was going to deliver.
I kept hitting him, backing him all the way to the opening of our tunnel. Everyone had scattered. I felt hands trying to get between us and peel me away, but I wasn’t budging. It felt good to hit him.
I wailed on him until finally someone got between us, managing to pull both of us away.
Daniel laughed, shaking his head and wiping a hand over his mouth. “What? You learn how to fight from my siste—”
I lunged for him again, but there were too many people between us. They held me back, but not him anymore. He straightened, unable to hold back a wince, and shook out his hand.
“You’re done, Connors.”
He laughed again. “Yeah?” He looked like he might chirp some more, but then his eyes went evil. Shit. He was going to hit me, and I couldn’t defend myself. The people holding me back were holding my arms.
He reared back, and I prepared to take it, trying to maneuver my face so he would only get the side.
“Daniel!” Rain’s voice came across the ice.
He faltered, turning to see her a few yards away, standing behind a couple of the assistant coaches. Her face was set in a fierce scowl, but she wasn’t scared. She was pissed.
Daniel tipped his head back, more of that toxic laughter spilling from him. “Don’t tell me you’re on your back for all of the—”
BAM!
Daniel shut up and he fell down, because he’d just been laid out by Meester.
“Do us all a favor,” Meester said calmly, standing over him. “Please shut the fuck up. Loser.” He twisted in Rain’s direction. “Think I got this assertive thing down now. Thanks, Rain.”
He walked past her to the locker room.
She stared at her brother, blinking in shock.
The rest of the Montreal team swarmed in to help their teammate, and the assistant coaches motioned for us to get to the locker room. The crowd was going insane. We could hear them all the way down into the tunnel. It felt like the ceiling was going to cave in.
Coach Hines called us in. “We need our three stars. Bruge, you’re third. Brick, you’re second. Griffin, you’re first. Toss your stuffed wolves to the fans and get your asses back in here.”