Page 48 of Role Model

“You don’t believe me.”

Troy shrugged one shoulder. “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t have my back.”

Ilya stared hard at him, then let out a huff of exasperated laughter. “Cheer the fuck up, Barrett. We don’t hate you, you know.”

“No?”

“No. Everyone on the other team hates you. Dallas Kent hates you. Everyone in the crowd hates you.”

“All right, I get it.”

“No one on our team hates you. And we want to beat Toronto as much as you do.”

Troy stared at his skates, embarrassed and a little bit touched.

“Okay?” Ilya asked.

“Okay.”

Ilya punched Troy’s padded shoulder. “I have been looking forward to knocking Dallas Kent on his ass. It has been a while.”

Troy managed a bit of a smile. His stomach felt calmer than it had before their talk. “I’ve been wanting to do it for years.”

The crowd booed every time Troy touched the puck.

They fucking booed him. And they cheered on a sexual predator. What the fuck was wrong with the world?

His former teammates were even worse, snarling insults at him every chance they got. Dallas seemed to be on a mission to spend as much of this game as possible attacking Troy. Dallas’s gray-blue eyes flashed with hatred every time he looked at him, and it made Troy furious. How dare this fucker feel anything but shame?

By the middle of the first period, Troy was channeling all of his rage into his game. He played fast, aggressive hockey, the kind he was known for. He went hard to the net, took bodies in the corners, and never stopped battling.

It didn’t matter. Toronto was still all over them. Dallas had a goal and an assist already.

“Merry Christmas, bitch,” he sneered at Troy after he scored.

Dallas had practically spat every word he said to Troy during the game. And then he’d punctuate it by literally spitting.

“How’s it feel to lose everything, traitor?” Kent asked him after a whistle in the second period.

“You’re going to really lose everything, one day,” Troy warned. “I can’t fucking wait.”

Dallas shoved him. “Your dad must be pissed. He likes me way more than he likes you.”

Troy shoved him back. “Because you’re both shitheads.”

The ref broke them apart, but Dallas got one last dig in. “You fucked yourself, Barrett. Was it worth it?”

Troy skated away without answering.

In the third period, Troy scored a fucking goal. Finally. It was off a perfect pass from Ilya, and watching the puck sail past the goalie felt fucking incredible. The crowd booed louder than ever, but Troy didn’t care. He was too busy hugging his new teammates.

“Tell your dad I said hi,” Dallas said as Troy skated past him.

“That sounds like you want to fuck my dad,” Troy shot back.

Dallas looked horrified. “Blow me, fuckhead.”

“That sounds like you want to fuck me.”

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