Page 178 of Game Misconduct
Good.
Win or lose, he’s not walking off this ice with his ego intact.
I drop into position as the puck resets. Pain coils in my shoulder like a vice, but I bare my teeth behind the mask.
He can try to break me.
But I’ve already played hurt.
I’ve already lost the girl.
And I’m still standing.
The third period feels like war.
Bodies fly. Tempers boil, causing gloves to nearly drop more than once.
Leonard continues to circle me like a vulture, but I block out his smirk. The jeers. The subtle nudges.
I’ve dealt with worse.
I’ve survived worse.
My shoulder’s on fire, but I lock in. Square to the puck. Vision tight. Every instinct honed.
And then it happens.
Breakaway. Leonard again. Barreling down the ice like a battering ram. He doesn’t even try to deke. Doesn’t try to finesse. He’s aiming for the kill.
I meet him head-on.
Push out to the top of the crease.
Drop low, pads sealed, glove high.
He rips it glove side. I snare it clean, smother it to my chest, roll back into the butterfly and freeze the puck.
Whistle blows.
The arena erupts.
I stay down for a beat too long. Not because I’m hurt—but because the crowd is roaring my name.
MADDOX. MADDOX. MADDOX.
It crashes down like thunder.
I rise. Slowly. Controlled. Glare at Leonard through my mask. He glares back. Doesn’t say a word. Just skates away.
I look up again, breathing hard behind the cage. I don’t know if she’s still there. Don’t know if she saw me stop him. But I hope she did.
Because tonight, that save? That was for me. But it was also for her.
And for the first time since this season started… I feel it.
Like I belong to this team.
I turn to the bench. Jace is banging his stick on the boards. Eli’s shouting. Riley throws both arms in the air like we just won a Cup. Even Cal’s grinning, tapping his stick against the ice like a drumbeat.
