Page 102 of Breakaway

Snorting, I shook my head, hugged him, and soaked in his aftershave. Sighing into his chest, I let him lead me to the locker room so we could begin preparations. This was the day we’d been working toward for months in more ways than one.

The next few hours flew by as we ran through the playbook, pumped up the players, and took to the ice. Kurt and Anders gave me death stares the second they appeared. I couldn’t help but laugh at their hatred. It felt so dumb. They hated me simply because I had boobs and a vagina, and no other reason.

“Alright, Blizzards, huddle up!” I shouted when the warmup clock grew close to zero. “This is the game we’ve been working our butts off for all season. The game where your skills speak for themselves and the world recognizes you for the amazing players you are. You have what it takes to win, so focus on your training and use your grit to win. So, let’s go out there and be the Breakaway Blizzards we’ve become. On three. One, two, three.”

“Breakaway! Blizzards!”

Goosebumps grew on my arms at their shouts, the pride in the team we’d become overwhelming me. The ref whistled for the start of the game, the first shift players skating out to the center. Braden met the ref at the circle, Anders across from him. Jack, Cam, Tony, and Reese were spread around him, with Molly in as goalie. The stands were packed with fans for both teams, the noise almost deafening as the ref dropped the puck.

Braden snatched it with his stick, passing it between his legs to Jack, who took off, Reese and Cam on his sides as they flew down the ice together. Within a second, he shot, and the puck flew across the line, giving us our first score. The crowd went wild, the team cheering on the ice at the quick score. Their spirits lifted, and they raced back to the center.

Unfortunately, that was where our scoring ended for the first period. Every time we moved around the Cavillers, they pushed our players into the boards. They weren’t even trying to steal the puck to score, just stopping us from making any goals. The team was ragged by the time we headed off the ice; the period being physical and demanding with little payout.

“We need to divide the players and get around them,” I said. “Daniels, I want you to try this.” I marked it on the whiteboard, demonstrating how I wanted him to skate. “And then Cam, when he’s open, you swoop in. Same play for you, Roberts, and then Matt, you’ll steal. We need to distract them.”

The team nodded, their solemn faces back on as we headed to the ice as the Zamboni finished. The second period started much as the first finished—the Cavaliers stopping every attempt we made to secure the puck, keeping us on our end of the ice. Cam managed to get a penalty shot after one of the Cavaliers bodychecked him from behind, taking the score 2-0.

The team skated off the ice after the second period, their heads down as I watched them. Kurt and Anders wore smug expressions, and I couldn’t shake the feeling they were up to something.

Talking through a few more plays to try in the locker room, the team filed back onto the ice a few minutes later, determined as they braced off against the Cavillers.

The crowd’s murmurs rose as the third period started, but I couldn’t determine what they were saying. I glanced at Dax, his eyes narrowed as he peered out onto the ice. The crowd pointed to the ice, so I focused on what they were discussing. It took me a second to see it, but when I did, I sucked in a breath in horror. Dax, doing the same.

The Cavillers players had something taped to their jerseys, the camera showing it on the Jumbotron.

“I can’t play hockey today. I’m on the rag.”

“Reese’s game special—the bar down on her opening line.”

“The Blizzards’ real mascot is player #12.”

The instant the Blizzards realized what they said, all Hell broke loose on the ice.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Henley

It was chaos as the entire team flew over the rail to join the others on the ice. Mitts, sticks, and helmets landed on the ice as blows were taken on anyone they could reach. I had no idea how to stop the violence covering the entire rink. My stomach jumped in my throat as I searched the mob for Reese.

The refs blew their whistles constantly, trying to break up the fight. My fear had me rooted in place, my hand over my mouth as I watched the scene unfold. When I spotted Reed and Fletcher out there with Cody and Ty, I sighed in relief as they pulled the players apart and pushed them toward their bench.

Kurt stayed where he was on his side of the ice, a pompous expression on his face as he stared me down across the rink with his arms crossed.

My fear turned to anger as I glared back at him. I couldn’t wait until he got what he deserved. While it wouldn’t be as satisfying as Dakota’s fall had been, Kurt still had skeletons in his closet. Giving him my own smirk, I had to keep myself from flicking him off. Screw it. I lifted my finger and waved it for good measure, ensuring he saw.

Reed skated over with Reese, pulling my attention back, and I sighed in relief. Tears ran down their face as they hung their head. I battled with myself if I should hug them or let them be, not knowing if I was big sister or coach here. Reese made the decision for me when they wrapped their arms around me, their head buried in my chest.

“Shh, it’s going to be okay. We won’t let them get away with this.”

“It’s so embarrassing. I hate that fucking kid.”

I snorted, so not used to hearing Reese curse.

“You said fucking.”

“I did.” They gave a wet chuckle. “That’s how much he infuriates me. From moment one, he had a bug up his butt about me, and I didn’t do anything to him.”

“I know, Reese. Sometimes people will hate you just for your gender, how you look, or because you’re better than them. It won’t make sense, and all you can do is live your life and show them they’re wrong.”