Page 63 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

The locker room is filled with the usual pre-game banter, but there’s an undercurrent of tension, like everyone’s aware of what this game means—for me, at least. Duluth’s always been a tough place for me to play. Too many memories, too many unresolved feelings. But tonight, something’s different. Holly’s here. She’sin the stands, watching, and somehow that thought alone makes the weight on my chest a little lighter.

The game starts off brutal. Duluth’s players are aggressive, and the atmosphere in the rink is tense, with every hit feeling like a personal attack. The first two periods are a blur of hard checks, fast passes, and near misses. We’re tied going into the third, and that’s when Coach sends me in.

The aggression bubbles to the surface as soon as my skates hit the ice. Every movement is sharper, faster. There’s no room for hesitation. Duluth’s defense is tight, but we’re tighter. Passes fly between sticks like bullets, and the puck dances across the ice, just out of reach.

One minute left in the period, and the puck lands on my stick. Everything slows down, the noise of the crowd fading into the background. The goal is there—waiting.

A slapshot.

The puck sails through the air, and the net ripples.

The buzzer sounds.

We win. 3-2. Great. Love leaving this place as soon as possible, and even the win doesn’t matter as much as the fact that I’m already thinking about getting back to Chicago. Back to Holly.

The media duties after the game are just the usual noise—cameras flashing, microphones shoved in my face, questions blurring together. But I go through the motions, answering with practiced ease, all while focusing on one thing: getting out of here and into Holly’s arms as soon as we’re back in Chicago.

But just as I’m about to wrap things up and head back to the locker room, a staff member approaches me with a message that makes my stomach twist.

“You’ve got a visitor.”

My heart leaps for a second, thinking it’s Holly. But when I step out into the hallway, it’s not her.

It’s Uncle Frank. And Jake.The other Jake that’s my cousin. Of course, there’s no way I escape a showdown in the town where they live.

“Ethan, my boy!” Uncle Frank’s voice is all false warmth, arms spread wide like we’re at some kind of family reunion. “What a game, huh?”

“What are you doing here?”

Jake steps up next to him, hands stuffed in his pockets, grinning like the snake he is. He reminds me too much of the other Jake—Holly’s ex. And the hatred for both of them simmers under my skin.

“Look at you, huh? Big-shot hockey player in the family.”

Frank chuckles, like we’re sharing some inside joke. “Now, is that any way to greet family? We’re here to cheer you on, of course.”

“Right.” My voice is flat, my patience hanging by a thread. “Spit it out. What do you want?” The words come out harsher than I intended, but I don’t care. This isn’t a social visit.

Uncle Frank’s smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers. “So, you don’t believe we’re just here to support you. Family supports each other, you know?”

“Right. Family.” The word tastes bitter on my tongue. “Thank you for the support. Can you leave now?”

Frank clears his throat, the faux cheer fading. “Look, Ethan. We’ve been thinking about, you know, the situation. We’re all family here, right? And family should help each other out.”

Ah. There it is. The real reason they’re here. It’s always about money. Always.

“I’m not giving you anything,” I say flatly, arms crossed over my chest.

Jake steps forward, his grin widening. “Come on, Ethan. We’re not asking for much. Just a little something to help us out. You’ve got plenty, right? Why not share the wealth?”

The anger flares, but I keep it in check. Barely.

“I’m done with your games,” I say, voice cold. “I’ll pay you off with the usual amount, but that’s it. I don’t want to hear from you again.”

Uncle Frank’s smile freezes, and there’s a moment of tension, but he quickly recovers, nodding. “Sure, sure. We’ll take care of it. No more trouble.”

But there’s a look in Jake’s eyes, something smug and calculating, and I know this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

As they walk away, the tension in my chest finally releases, and all I can think about is Holly. She’s the only thing that makes any of this mess bearable. And right now, I need to get back to her.

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