Page 218 of Wrong Pucking Player

Kane is out. Royce down. Silas getting treated, which leaves Mitchel and Winchester as our current saving grace.

One overview glance tells me that’s not enough.

Our defense may be strong, and I’m still doing my best at blocking as many pucks that try to enter my net, but the final countdown is here, and I’m not sure how long I can last with the strain of the game beginning to get to me.

For our first game, we had to get matched with some fierce competition.

The hype of social media on our side may have been a disadvantage because this team came onto the ice for bloodshed and victories.

It’s been brutal to watch.

I’m going to have to thank Andrews for whatever concoction she mixed up in these Gatorade cocktails that help replenish me, or else I’d be down for the count.

Denzel may be a good backup goalie, but with our fierce competition dominating the ice like they have this last round, I don’t think we’d be holding our ground right now.

Briefly checking the counter, I can’t help but bite my bottom lip.

Fuck. We need one more goal…

The real question is who’s going to hit that lucky shot?

There’s nothing I can do.

As goalie, I’m a sitting fucking duck.

“Winchester!”

I can’t help but turn my head to the call of Jayce’s name from the woman who’s kept my heart captive.

My eyes land on Andrews, noticing her stern expression as Winchester has no choice but to skate over to the benches at her call.

If this was a practice game, he’d surely be giving her shit, but in front of these die-hard fans?

He’ll humble his cocky ass.

Everyone’s holding their breaths because we all know something is wrong when Andrew calls on a player to return to the bench.

The others are exchanging worried glances, and I can tell from the way Winchester’s body tenses up that things may not be going as planned.

“Shit,” I hear Mitchel swear as he skates closer to me. “I think they’re benching Winchester.”

“Why?” Diesel groans. “We can’t lose another forward at this stage.”

“You haven’t noticed his leg is acting up?” Axel inquires. “I noticed during the first half. Right before that dude crashed into Kane. I think he wanted to take Winchester out, but Kane got in the way on purpose.”

“Shit,” Diesel growls. “Kane was the one that got us our first two goals. If Winchester is out, we’re fucked.”

“I can try,” Mitchel defends, but he doesn’t sound confident in his gameplay. Mitchel is good, but he needs backup. Someone who’s there in his peripheral vision to succeed.

“Coach Johnson is talking to Nurse Andrews,” Axel points out, leaving us no choice but to follow his gaze to see the two professionals speaking quickly.

From the way Andrews is shaking her head, she’s shooting down whatever Coach Johnson is suggesting.

Meaning the injury is bad.

“Yo, Armani. You think Winchester sprained something bad enough to be forced off?” Diesel asks.

“Andrews wouldn’t pull him off unless she knows his performance will cost us the game,” I defend. “Winchester has been sloppy since the second half.”

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