Page 32 of Puck You Very Much

By God, he didn’t fucking know. So he remained silent and looked into the stands across the way instead, where the few Hawks fans who had traveled here were booing to express their displeasure.

The noise of the arena rang in his ears, punctuated by heavy bodies crashing into the boards and the scrape of hockey sticks across the ice. Gray’s voice was louder than all of it, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was Lucy sitting somewhere in the stands, watching this tragedy. He had to think about how she would explain to the press why he had played like his skates were on backwards.

He closed his eyes, sucked in the cold air, and tried to clear his mind. But it was hopeless.

The ice was his refuge. Always had been. Jack had given it to him. How ironic that now he was the one taking it away. Whenever he saw Jack’s face, he was reminded of how lost he had felt when the bastard had just disappeared in the middle of the night, how hard it had been to suddenly be responsible for Anna alone, because he couldn’t rely on their parents. How stressful the years had been when he had lived at home just to protect her—when he could have lived on campus and started his career sooner.

And all the while, Jack had been doing just that.

Without him. Without Anna. Without looking back.

He wanted to shake off the thought, wanted to concentrate on the ice, wanted to do his best…but his best on the ice was no longer just his, it now belonged to Jack, too, because he was part of the team.

And shit, he just didn’t want Jack to succeed.

Dax lived for oblivion. For the freedom that the game brought. Jack lived to win. And if Jack wouldn’t let Dax forget and be free…then Dax wouldn’t let Jack win.

It wasn’t a conscious decision, but it was still the end result. He made one mistake after another. His passes were sloppy, every scoring opportunity he had was wasted, and his teammates were merely blurred outlines on the ice.

He played like that until he no longer knew whether it was a mistake or intentional. It was no longer clear to him whether he was failing because he had an underlying desire to fail or failing because his mind was filled with distracting crap.

He had told Lucy the truth.

He didn’t play—not with other people’s happiness. Only with his own. The notion that his subconscious was breaking its one rule pissed him off. And when the final whistle finally sounded after sixty minutes of play, which had stretched into more than ninety minutes thanks to the ridiculous number of penalties, he wasn’t the only one who was pissed.

“Dude, Dax,” Matt snapped, punching him in the arm so hard he almost slammed into the boards on the way to the exit.

“I know,” he said roughly.

“Man, Dax, what the hell was wrong with you?” Fox chimed in, his face red with anger. “Because of you, we all had to sit on the bench at least once!”

“I know!” he replied sharply.

“Like a donkey on blades,” Leon remarked angrily.

Dax pressed his lips together and met Jack’s gaze as he reached the exit ahead of him.

Jack kept his mouth shut, just stared at him and shook his head almost imperceptibly. Dax didn’t know whether to be grateful or angry about it.

Ten minutes later, when Gray stormed into the locker room and announced that there would be no press conference today, Dax was relieved beyond belief. He couldn’t have answered their questions honestly. And it meant he didn’t have to see Lucy, who usually oversaw the interviews.

“You behaved like a bunch of baboons out there!” he snapped.

“If Temple plays like a bunch of baboons are after him, it’s no wonder!” Leon snapped, glaring at him.

“Temple isn’t the only one who played like shit, Alvarez. You started two unnecessary fistfights.”

“Yes, because I was angry with Temple and couldn’t attack him personally!” he snapped.

“That’s enough, Leon,” Fox replied sharply, and Dax wished the captain wouldn’t. He had no right to be defended today.

“We’ll talk about it in detail tomorrow,” Gray announced darkly. “God. I’d like to send you all to bed without dinner. Instead, I’ll just tell you how terribly disappointed I am in you. That always works better with my children than punishing them.”

He suddenly turned his back on them, but before he left the locker room, he stopped at Dax again.

“Any more bullshit like that, Temple, and I’ll bench you for the entire next game,” he said flatly, his voice so quiet that none of the others could hear him. “You are not alone on the ice out there. So stop being a selfish motherfucker and get your shit sorted out with West. Someone worse than me would assume that you lost on purpose. And if that’s the case, we’re going to have a big problem.”

The door slammed loudly behind Gray and what was left was the oppressive, niggling silence that only a terrible and unnecessary defeat could bring about.

---