Page 100 of Revenge Puck

The roaring in my head drowns out everything in the arena, as well as weakening my restraint to not take his bait.

“She admitted that you two are just pretending,” Christian shouts loud enough for all our teammates to hear. “That photo of you kissing? You did it just to stir shit up before the first game. It’s all a lie to try to hurt me, to turn her against me, just like you did with Maya!”

That’s it. I throw my stick down and skate toward him. “Keep my sister’s name out of your goddamn mouth!”

Before I can plow into the asshole, Vincent gets between us, keeping me back. “Don’t lose your head now, Lawrence. He’s trying to get you to screw up,” the goalie tells me.

“I hate that son of a bitch!” I yell as he pushes me back to the other side of the ice while Christian cackles behind him.

“Then smash his ass into the boards when the game starts. But remember what’s on the line.”

“Yeah, I remember. I can never forget,” I tell him. Maya and Finley are depending on me to keep my cool, to win the championship, or at least finish it without fucking up and losing the offer from the Grizzlies.

Nothing is more important to me than they are.

And Elle.

The longer I wait to tell her about California, the more it feels like a festering open wound in my chest, spreading every second and getting infected.

It’s impossible to stop thinking about it, that this trip to Greensboro could be the last time I see Elle if she refuses to give long-distance a chance.

If Riley keeps pursuing her, she may even cave eventually. After all, he lives right here in her town and won’t be going anywhere for several years.

Hell, if anyone could make that prick settle down, it would be her.

The two of them could live happily ever after while I live alone and miserable on the opposite coast.

It just gives me one more reason to hate that asshole.

Elle

The score is two to one, the Bobcats in the lead during the second period. There’s been a lot of shoving and hard hits by both sides the whole game. It’s like the Bobcats are giving it their all and the Warhawks are just…angry.

Or maybe that’s just Preston.

Preston who comes onto the ice and goes charging straight toward Christian.

“Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no,” I chant over and over as I watch. The two get in each other’s faces, pushing and running their mouths. Somehow, I just know this is it, Preston has snapped. All that cool and calm he felt in the first four games is completely gone.

“Why does Preston look so pissed?” Audrey asks from beside me. Preston was somehow able to get us great seats yet again.

“I don’t know. Christian’s probably been running his mouth.”

“Does he know he came by the salon yesterday?”

“Yes. They ran into each other when Preston was coming in and Christian was leaving.”

“Uh-oh.”

“My thoughts exactly. Preston was…I’ve never seen him so angry this afternoon.”

“Until now, you mean?”

“What?”

“Your man just threw his gloves off and took a swing at Christian.”

I look back at the ice and see she’s right. Standing up, I cup my hands to my mouth as I shout, “Don’t do it, Preston! He’s not worth it!” as if he could actually hear me over the packed crowd that’s cheering, rooting for a brawl between the known rivals.

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