Page 1 of Rule Breaker

CHAPTER 1

MADDOX

THE FIRST WEEK OF SCHOOL

‘Fuck off’ was my favorite expression. One I used without hesitation. I didn’t just say it to other people. Sometimes I aimed those words right back at myself. No matter how many times I’d repeated that I was strong enough, I never fully believed it. Self-doubt is a cagey bastard that keeps slithering back, even when you think you’ve kicked his ass to the curb.

At twenty, my life until this point could best be described as a shitshow. Part of it good, but the rest unquestionably bad. I was always on alert. On edge. Waiting for the next blow to knock me down. I was used to facing things head on and bracing myself for impact.

It’s probably why I chose to be a goalie. It was always me against everyone else.

Eight months ago, at the urging of my former hockey coach, Daniel Toth, I’d applied to Sutton University. Three of the top goalies in the professional league had played there. Guarding the net was all I wanted, so I went for it. And with Sutton’sacceptance came a new start. I packed up my shit and found myself alone, as usual, but in a different country.

Going from Canada’s largest city to a small town in the Green Mountains of Vermont was the biggest shock of all. I was used to the chaos and anonymity of Toronto. I didn’t court attention. But sometimes I got it, whether I wanted it or not. Why? I was a surly asshole on the best of days. A loner and an introvert. And I planned on staying that way. College or not.

Case in point, today was the first official hockey practice with my new team, the Cougars.

While everyone was gathered at center ice, getting to know each other, I was in my net. My safety zone. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to any of these guys. Nothing personal, it’s just me.

I was grumpy as fuck after days of dealing with incoming paperwork and getting settled into my dorm. At least they’d accommodated my special request for a room to myself. There’s no way I’d handle living with a roommate because only one of us would survive.

I was used to living in a house, or, rather, a basement apartment. By myself. The only people I interacted with were Daniel, who owned said house, occasionally his wife, and their kid. I’d been living with his family since I was sixteen, after I’d left a bad situation.

But I had hockey. I didn’t need anything else.

Still, a new school, living quarters, classmates; it was a lot for me to take in. To say I was on edge was putting it mildly. There was a crap ton of students and being in close quarters with so many strangers—overly friendly ones, at that—had my hackles up.

So did the guy now skating toward me, wearing number ten.

He was the biggest defenseman I’d ever seen, never mind played with. The six-foot-five behemoth glided down the ice, talking with every player, and all with an over-the-top grin onhis face that made me gag. He looked like he ate, slept, and shit literal sunshine. And I was a thunder and lightning kind of guy.

“I’m Kayden Melnyk,” he announced when he skated up to me. He pulled off his glove, reaching his bare hand out. Just like his face, it was covered in golden freckles. “Welcome to the Cougars.”

“Fuck off,” I muttered, my voice muffled by my mask.

“Excuse me?” he asked, looming, his hazel eyes bearing down on me.

Despite his ginormous stature—I was six-one—I wasn’t intimidated by him. Not by his size or that neon smile of his that was making me more irritable by the second.

“Look, it’s simple,” I snapped, pushing my mask up.

When Melnyk saw my expression, he took a step back. Score one point for me.

“I don’t like people,” I continued. “I don’t care how you’re doing, how much you love hockey, this college, or this team. And I don’t want to be your fucking friend, got it? You have your job out here and I have mine. Now let’s get on with the goddamn game.”

Then I slammed my mask back down. End of discussion.

The only thing more satisfying than telling someone off was watching them walk away. Once that happened, they rarely came back. If they did, my lethal mouth ensured they didn’t try again.

Melnyk—Kayden—took off down the ice and my nerves eased.

I didn’t need friends; hockey teammates or otherwise. No thanks. I trusted two people in my life—Daniel and my therapist. That was it. Oh, and the guy who did my tattoos and piercing. Other than that, I didn’t want to be engaged in any kind of conversation or, even worse, any attempt to be touched. Unless it was a tattoo needle. Pain I could handle. I understood. Anything else was foreign to me.

I skated in front of my net, side to side, tapping the bar while I hummed a favorite song. Getting my head prepped. It didn’t matter if it was a practice game or a nail-biting season closer, my ritual was always the same. And I wasn’t the odd person out. Every hockey player has their thing before, during, and after, a game. If no one interrupted my vibe, I didn’t care what they did.

I glanced over and watched Kayden as he skated up to our captain, Dane St. Pierre, one of our forwards, Jace Rowland, and a defenseman, Silas Moss. Dane seemed like an okay guy, but again, way too fucking friendly for my liking. Jace too. Then there was Axel Lund. Another forward, and like me, a new addition to the team. I knew him by reputation, a guy who played fast and hard.

Silas skated around Axel and headed my way.