Page 7 of The Break Out

Literally I couldn’t, unless I wanted to be out of a job because they were the only ones to offer me one. I’m a good fucking player, I know this, and so do the big wigs in the league. Unfortunately, they also know my attitude onand offthe ice. I think it’s fucking dramatic, but it makes teams not want to deal with me.

But Denver did. And now I’m stuck. At least for the nextfour years of my contract. Though, I made it clear I’m open toanytrade. But for now I’m going to be a miserable fuck constantly which includes at all our practices so far and at our game tonight. It’s the first of the season and I’m arriving with my headphones in, ignoring everyone around me.

The social media people taking pictures, the reporters asking all the guys if they would be okay with a pre game interview. I ignore them all with a blank look on my face. I don’t even take off my headphones in the locker room as I begin changing.

I hear some of the guys—I refuse to call teammates because I don’t feel like a team with them—talking about some shit. Doesn’t matter that we’ve had daily practice for weeks, they are all talking like little bitches catching up after not seeing each other all summer. Even though we’ve had practices.

Makes me even more pissed off.

I’m turning up the volume on my headphones as I tug on my gear but before I get my jersey on, one of my headphones is ripped out of my ear. I turn to whoever decided they want to be fucked up and come face to face with the captain.

“The fuck?” I snap, stepping closer to him because I don’t give two shits who he is.

“Coach is talking. Which means everyone needs to listen,” Collee states, straight faced. Which only pisses me off more.

“You don’t tell me what the fuck to do.”

“You’re a part of this team, whether you like it or not and we are not going to suck this season because of you.” He keeps hiscool through his little speech and I want to punch him in the face just for a reaction.

I scoff, still not backing away from him. “I’mnot going to be the reason your fucking team sucks, but I don’t give a shit about any of you. Never have before and I’m not going to start. Leave me the fuck alone and let me do my fucking job.”

I grab my headphone from his hand and shove it into my ear, tuning out the entire locker room once again.

After warmups,we’re all back in the locker room and I’m forced to listen as starting lines are announced, which isn’t me even though it should be. Then, we’re heading out into the arena for the game to start.

I feed off the energy of the crowd and that’s where my focus remains. The only thing that matters is when I go out for my shift and being the best fucking player out there. Tolerating the other Denver guys enough while we are out there to try and get a goal.

It’s almost the end of the first period, I gain control of the puck and skate toward the other zone. I can feel their player on my ass, but I speed up to get away from him. I get over the blue line to avoid being offside, just barely, then slap the puck toward their goal. The goalie stops it and I let out a loud curse, skating back to the bench.

Before I climb over the boards, I’m checked by Matt McQuaid. “I was open and had a clear shot you asshole.”

“So did I,” I grit out, itching for a fight.

“We hate you just as much as you hate us, you know? But out here we have to work together.”

“Fuck off, McQuaid, you’re not one to talk. You wouldn’t have passed either.”

“Guys, bitch at each other later, we are in the middle of a game,” Charlie Mann snaps as both McQuaid and I sit.

The first period ends with Vince Dumont blocking a shot before it gets to the goalie, Colver.

In the locker room I get bitched at by Coach, but it goes in one ear and out the other. Everyone on this fucking team can eat shit, none of them would have gotten that goal either. It was a solid shot on my part, their goalie just stopped it.

I have too much shit pent up by the time we go back out for the next period I’m practically vibrating with rage. The combination of everything this last year from the original trade, to being stuck, moving bullshit, and dealing with everyone on this dumb ass fucking team. When I go out for my first shift of the period I cross check the guy who has possession of the puck into the boards hard enough I know I should get a penalty.

He reacts exactly how I hoped he would by shoving me back and then we are both throwing our gloves off as I grab his jersey and start raining punches down on him. He gets a couple good hits in and I love the pain it causes from my split lip. I taste the copper on my tongue and feel the blood from my busted knuckles, but I keep going until we end up on the ice and pulled apart by the refs.

I’m guided to the penalty box and can’t help but smile for thefirst time in weeks. Sometimes all you need is a little fight to make you feel better.

And a good fuck.

Which I’m going to make happen after the game. This isn’t L.A., but there isn’t a shortage of puck bunnies. Especially after I get in a fight, for some reason that gets me even more attention than normal. Which is fine by me.

We loseby one and of course everyone is pissed off as we change. The locker room is tense, but at least no one tries to talk to me again. I rush through my shower and throw my suit on so I can get out quickly.

As I enter the hallway I see a couple different groups of WAGs waiting for their guy. I grimace, I’d rather shoot my dick off than think about settling for just one woman. I’m a twenty-eight year old, good looking professional athlete. I can have whoever I want and I plan on that being my life for as long as I can.

One particular group catches my eye as I approach, I recognize Chandler who’s dating three of the guys on the Dragons.Fucking weird.She’s standing with three other women, one is Spencer Sparks, another is wearing glasses with short black hair. It’s the blonde with legs for days that are covered in a pair of tight jeans that draws my eyes to her ass that I know belong to Brynn Collee. My captain’s sister.

---