That’s what he wants to do, after all. He wants to get into my head. Fuck with me, and then, in turn, throw me off my game.
I don’t let it happen.
Well, that is, until the third period.
The puck is still in play. I chase it down the boards. My focus is razor-sharp as I speed across the ice.
Out of nowhere, Hayes blindsides me with an elbow to the head, knocking me down. Pain shoots through me as I scramble to get back up on my feet.
The whistle blows for a penalty.
Fuck this.
I don’t hesitate to charge him. Dropping my gloves, I close the distance. Hayes swings first, but I dodge it easily. Pulling back my arm, I punch, my fist connecting squarely with Hayes’s jaw. Hayes staggers.
The whistle blows and blows and blows.
I grin at his bleeding lips. “Not smiling now, dick.”
All around me, I hear the crowd erupt into chaos.
They love this shit, and I’m about to give them the show of a lifetime.
I land another punch, but it’s not long before arms pull me back. Looking over my shoulder, I see Dane.
The deafening chants from the crowd are a mix of cheers and boos.
My chest heaves as I glare at Hayes, who is currently being dragged to the bench by his own teammates, a hand pressed to his jaw.
At least I wiped the smug-ass grin off his face.
That thought alone makes me smile.
I’m escorted to the penalty box.
Coach is pissed.
Oh, well. No one touches my little Hex but me.
“Wilde,” Coach barks as I slump onto the bench, peeling off my helmet. “What the hell was that?”
I don’t answer.
Instead, I stare straight ahead.
Coach wants me to feel bad.
Fuck that.
I have shit to feel bad for. Hayes had it coming.
Even with the scuffle, the game ends in a victory.
I head to the locker room, still fuming and amped up.
Once inside, Mason throws an arm around me, clapping me on the shoulder. “Nice punch.”
“How about maybe save it for after the game next time, huh?” It’s Dane who speaks this time. “The Redville Posthates when they don’t have an exclusive, and I just bought their stock.”