Page 18 of Puck Me Harder
I don’t want to score. I want to smash heads.
I check another Ray into the boards, and when he slumps, I lock eyes with Dakota. She’s sitting with Sofie and Payton, her pen limp in her hand. Looks like I interrupted her mid sentence.
Good.
I blow her a kiss. Any of the girls in the area might think it’s for them, but she knows. I can see it in her eyes before I get back to my job.
That’s when I see it.
Emerson is gliding along at top speed when that asshole Segei hits him with a high stick. Emerson goes down, blood spraying the ice and boards.
My vision bleeds red and I eat up the distance between us.
Sergei never sees me coming. I’m on him in a flash, the crowd reacting with a sudden ‘ooh’ as I slam him into the bloody boards. I rain punches down as he twists around, his face almost purple with rage.
A zebra tries to break us up, skating between us, but Sergei shoves him away. My fists find his gut again and again as I pummel him, making him feel it even through his kit. This piece of shit already crossed the line once, making a move on Dakota.
Two strikes and you’re dead.
Whistles ring in my ears, rising above the roar of the crowd. Fans near us bang on the other side of the clear plastic, rattling it, but I’m lost in a berserk fury.
No one messes with my girl or my team.
Sergei gets his feet under him and grabs my head, his thumbs trying to gouge my eyes. Dirty bastard. I shake him off with a roar, but he hammers his now empty hands into my stomach and chest.
Good. I needed an excuse to really hit him.
Teeth hit the ice like a bag of dropped marbles as my fist connects with Sergei’s face. The crowd sucks in a collective breath as they watch Sergei go down, still clutching his ruined jaw.
“That’s it, Mita! You’re out of here!” Two different refs pull me off Sergei, and this time I let them.
I might catch a suspension, but it was worth it. Sergei won’t be running his mouth again, ever.
“Folks, it looks like number 42 has been ejected!” The announcement is met with a chorus of boos from the crowd. “After that display, he’ll probably be out for a few games!”
I don’t say a word as I exit the ice, heading back to the locker room.
“Hey Mita, what the fuck was that?” Coach Wallace shouts at my back.
“Justice,” I say, turning around to meet his eyes.
We stare for a bit, but he relents, jerking a thumb backward.
“Hit the showers. We’ll talk later. I’ve got to see to Emerson, and figure out how we’re going to win with two subs.” He looks redder than usual.
“Not my problem. My job is to make sure no one ever even thinks about playing dirty hockey with us again,” I say with a shrug.
Coach shakes his head, but he knows I’m right.
I scan the crowd, giving it one last look. They’re not upset. They’re chanting my name. I’m looking for one face in particular, but Dakota isn’t sitting with her friends anymore.
Swearing, I stomp into the locker room, stripping off my kit as I go.
* * *
I’m halfway to the showers when I find her, leaning against the wall.
Fuck she’s gorgeous. Her face is almost as red as her hair, except for the clusters of freckles dusted across her cheeks. I want to kiss each one and play connect the dots across her creamy skin. Her eyes are closed, and it’s hard to tell if she’s angry or crying.