Page 88 of For Crosby

Coach pegged each of them with his eyes. “Hazing is against university policy—whether you’re the one doing it or a witness who doesn’t try to stop it. Either way, it will no longer be tolerated on this team.”

My teammates lowered their heads like the guilty cowards they were.

“Xavier will be taking Jeremy’s spot in tomorrow night’s game,” Coach said.

Xavier didn’t even bother hiding his excitement, punching his fist into the air. I didn’t have to wonder. I knew it was a combination of him getting a starting position and Jeremy going down.

“Now, I want you all back out there running drills,” Coach said. “Crosby, I need you for a minute.”

All the others skated off with our assistant who fired off directions at them. Xavier beamed as he skated out to his new position.

Once they began their drill, Coach turned to me. “I reported the cup incident to the dean.”

My face dropped. “How’d you know who did it?”

He cocked his head. “He was the one you slammed into the boards.”

I scoffed.

“But since I didn’t have proof it was him, the dean was hesitant to expel him.”

“So, what changed?”

“He received evidence of Jeremy’s motives.”

“Jeremy’s motives? Coach, I’m not following.”

“He just met with Jeremy’s lawyer and parents. Somehow, they were able to secure a deal that would keep him out of jail. He’s about to find out now.”

“No one hates the guy more than me, but could he really go to jail for hazing?”

“This was more than hazing, Crosby. He was trying to destroy your life the way your parents destroyed his family’s.”

My eyes couldn’t have stretched any wider. “What?”

“You didn’t know?”

I shook my head, a hundred thoughts swirling through my head at once.

It hadn’t been hazing.

It hadn’t been jealousy.

It had been payback.

Payback for what my parents had done.

How had I not seen it?

“You’ve got nothing to worry about now,” Coach assured me.

But that was the last thing I heard before I saw red. I took off like a madman toward the locker room. I rounded the corner and somehow, even with my skates and pads on, I flew across the room, shoving Jeremy into the lockers behind him and leveling him with a right hook to the face.

The cops who stood nearby lunged forward.

“That was your one free shot,” one of the cops said as he pulled me off Jeremy.

The other grabbed hold of Jeremy who bent over clutching his cheek.

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