Out of the corner of my eye, I see Matthew dart towards him. I start following, in case he needs help. But then he does something unexpected, and it happens so fast that there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
He uses his stick to trip their center, causing him to fall to the ice. My jaw drops out of pure shock. This is the last thing I expected him to do. Mainly because he definitely just handed them their win because of it.
As soon as our center swoops in and takes the puck, the whistle blows, and we all stop. Matthew starts heading towards the penalty box. Once he’s in, we resume playing without him.
“Fucking bastard,” I mutter.
We’re shorthanded for two minutes now, and there are only four minutes left in the game. The chances of us getting a tie are even slimmer than they were before.
I’m gonna fucking kill him.
Our center still has the puck, and he looks pretty confident as he skates forward.
“Hurry up,” I mumble to myself. Every second counts right now. We have no time to waste.
He gets checked again. The puck is stolen by their center, who immediately takes the opportunity to send a slap shot towards our net.
I watch as our goalie has no way to see it coming. They have two other players near our net, blocking his vision. It hits the back of the net, and I feel my anger fully consuming me. I welcome it.
For the remaining minutes, my only focus is on Matthew. When he comes back onto the ice, he avoids me as best as he can. He knows it’s over for him, at least where I’m concerned. And he’ll probably get benched for the rest of the season.
This was fully his fault. What fucking dumbass gets himself thrown into the penalty box when we’re already down one, with four minutes left in the game?
Now that we’re down by two points, the rest of the game is pointless. Our energy has taken a significant decrease, and I can practically feel my teammates' disappointment.
As soon as the game is over, I make a beeline for the locker room. He’s going to try to sneak out of here, I already know it. But I’m gonna beat him to it.
I change as fast as I can, watching him do the same. He skips a shower, just like I knew he would, and heads out of the locker room. I follow after him, the rage in me only increasing with each step.
Matthew turns down a hall, heading towards a door that leads outside. I grab his arm and swing him around, before throwing him into the wall.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Is this funny to you?”
He tries to push me away, but I just shove him into the wall even harder.
“I was trying to get us the puck!”
“You knew what you were doing. You’re not that stupid. My question is, why do it? What do you have against this team, huh?”
“Nothing, man! I thought James was gonna steal the puck and do a slap shot.”
“Wow you really are stupid. You should never, ever assume that someone else is going to do something. Especially when he was nowhere near in position to do a slap shot.”
“Okay, I messed up!”
I scoff, a cruel laugh coming out of me. “Oh you have no idea just how bad, do you?”
Before he can answer, I swing my fist back and hit him square in the jaw. Again. And again. And again.
Pulling Matthew away from the wall, I slam him back into it, letting his head bounce off of the bricks. Just as I’m about to do it again, I spot someone to my left.
I turn to tell them to fuck off but stop short when I see that it’s one of the ice girls standing there. I remember meeting her weeks ago, her name is Kim.
She’s just as breathtakingly stunning as she was that night. And to my surprise, she doesn’t move, or say a word when she sees us. She just stares and looks completely unphased by it.
Keeping my eyes on her, I slam my fist into Matthew’s face again. Then again, even harder this time. I can feel his blood dripping down my hand, but I’m not even close to being done.
After another punch, I finally look away from her and back at Matthew.