Page 43 of Puck'n Bully
Once we’re several feet away, Liam yanks his arm free, eyes blazing. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
My pulse thunders in my ears. Anger, desperation, and fear crash through me, tangling up my emotions so badly that I can barely make sense of how I’m feeling.
“Who was that?” I growl, my voice coming out rougher than I meant it.
Liam frowns. “Excuse me?”
“The guy,” I snap. “Who is he?”
Liam lets out a humorless chuckle. “Why do you care? Besides, it’s none of your business who I talk to.”
The words hit me like a slap. My jaw clenches with rage. “So that’s it? You just—what? Move on? Just like that?”
“Move on from what, Hayden?” Liam says, his tone icy. “What exactly is there to move on from?”
I freeze.
Liam takes a step closer to me, his voice calm but no less sharp. “You don’t get to be mad,” he says, eyes flashing with anger. “You don’t get to act like I meant something to you when the second your teammate walked in, you—” His voice cracks and he has to swallow past a hard lump in his throat to continue. “You threw me away.”
I want to hold onto my anger but the pain in Liam’s voice is like a stab to my heart. “That’s not—”
“That’s exactly what happened.”
Liam’s blue eyes fill up with tears but he refuses to shed a single drop. He holds my gaze, refusing to yield to me.
I want to tell him I’m sorry, that I didn’t mean to hurt him, that I reacted that way out of sheer panic. I swallow, wishing the words on my tongue would pour out and soothe Liam’s pain.
“I have nothing left to say to you, Hayden,” he says before I can say the right words to him.
He turns away, refusing to give me a chance to even apologize to him.
I stand rooted to the spot as my gut twists with jealousy and fear.
Liam walks toward a building in the distance and disappears through the doors. He didn’t turn back even once.
My anger wanes, leaving nothing but desperation in its wake.
Is this it? Will Liam never forgive me?
A wave of cold washes over me, making me feel lonelier than I’ve ever felt in my life.
14
Hayden
The crisp, cold air hits my face as my blades glide smoothly over the ice. My stick taps in rhythm, my eyes scanning for my teammates who’re skating around me.
"Look alive, Bastian!” Mitchikov shouts, skating past me. “Man, we’ve got to crush the guys from Silverlake during our next match or we’ll lose our fucking faces.”
“Watch your left, Bastian! He’s coming at you!” I hear Henderson shout as the puck skids across the ice.
Excitement and determination crackle in the air. The next match with the Silver Bears from Silverlake University is going to be huge. We managed to defeat them last season but it’d been a brutal game that’d left most of us injured and bloodied.
Coach Sullivan is making us practice every evening to get us prepared for the game. All my teammates are giving their hundred percent to train themselves. I can see it in the way they’re skating and closely following the strategies Coach drew up for us.
I should be feeling just as pumped up to meet the bastards who attacked Mitchikov so mercilessly last season, that he ended up with two cracked ribs. The dude annoys the hell out of me but he also protects me in the rink. He’s always by my side, defending me while I guide the puck into the enemy’s net.
I take a deep breath, going after the puck but I can’t seem to focus on the fast-moving black disc today. The focus and power I usually feel while playing hockey are missing.
