Page 3 of Puck'N Enemy
I try to focus on the hate I feel for him but it doesn’t work.
Underneath all the rage and bitterness I feel, there’s a cursed, buried emotion that still makes my heart throb. I still want the fucker that broke me in the cruelest way.
My jaw clenches hard.
I hate Dylan for turning me into a fucking masochist.
Dylan shakes off the hit from Mitchikov and gets back into the rhythm of the game. Despite hating him, my eyes still track his every movement.
That’s because he’s the Bears’ fucking center, I try to reason with myself. I have to watch out for him. It’s my damn job as the goalie!
The game gets bloodier in the second period. Bastian gets knocked against the board so hard, I’m almost sure he can’t get up.
But there’s a reason Bastian’s our star center.
He’s a monster on the ice. No amount of hit or foul play can keep him down for long.
Bastian rises, making the stadium echo with his fans’ cheers.
I shout and cheer for him from my position, almost forgetting about Dylan.
But just as everyone’s attention is diverted, Dylan skates over to me.
“Hey,” he says, coming to a halt in front of me.
I freeze, astonished that he has the nerve to talk to me.
“Fuck off,” I mutter.
“Is that your new boyfriend?” Dylan asks, his gaze dark and impenetrable.
I stare at him, shocked at his audacity. “Bastian’s going to kick your ass,” I hiss. “Just wait and watch.”
“Hey, is there a problem here?” The right defenseman from the Bears’ team comes to a halt, glaring at me.
“Fuck you for hurting him,” I spit at him. “And a word of caution, Reece. Watch out for Mitchikov. He’ll want revenge after what you just did to Bastian.”
He flips me off and skates away.
Dylan frowns at his teammate. Turning back to me, he’s about to say something, but the screech of the referee’s whistle cuts through the chaos on the ice.
With no choice, he skates back to his position.
As the second period continues, Bastian and Henderson score three goals while I block all attempts from the Bears’ side.
I can’t help but feel pride for my teammates. They’re giving their best to this game.
If we stay focused, we have a real chance of winning tonight.
I soon fall into rhythm, blocking shots, shouting plays, and snapping at my defenders to follow Bastian, who’s become the sole target of the Bears. I try to ignore Dylan but it’s impossible when he’s a forward and keeps rushing up toward me with the puck.
At one point, I become so busy following the puck’s lightning-fast trajectory on the other side of the rink that I lose sight of the Bears who’ve suddenly taken to circling me.
I’m about to re-orient my focus but it’s too late.
Reece barrels toward me at blurring speed and, within a split second, collides with me.Hard.
White-hot pain lances through me as my leg crumples beneath me.
