Page 149 of Redeeming the Villain

Dropping my stick, I burst into the zone. He knows what’s coming, but I’m faster than he expects.

When he turns around, his eyes bulge as he tries to brace for impact. But it’s too late.

I drop my shoulder and ram into him, sending him into the boards, similar to Asher, but much harder.

Rage consumes me as I catch a glimpse of Asher still lying on the ice as Dean and Elias stand in front of him to block anything from accidentally touching him.

Number eighty stands to his feet, a snarl on his face. “You want to go? Huh? You want to go?”

More than anything right now, but Coach told me to try to be on better behavior, as I’ve been too easily instigated to fight lately.

He scoffs cockily. “What a fucking pussy.”

Ignore it. Ignore it. Skate away.

When I turn around toward Griffin, he nods at me with pride. I hate not breaking this kid’s fucking face for his dirty hit on Asher. But I don’t want to let my team down either. We got even.

He shoves my back, and I glide closer to Griffin, who stiffens, inching toward me.

The linesmen and ref get between us, pulling number eighty back like a kid in trouble. Cheers break out in the rink as we’re escorted to the penalty box.

Elias, our captain, skates right behind us. He’ll wait to hear the official call from the ref.

Number eighty is still roaring at me, trying to rev me up, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t working just a little bit.

Before we reach the boxes, he gets one more dig. “Saw you in the news. Was your brother as much of a pussy?”

I snap my head toward him as my fists twitch. He doesn’t deserve a response. He’s not going to get one … not from my mouth at least.

Ditching the linesman holding my arm, I storm over to him, half into the penalty box. Grabbing him by the jersey, I shove him into the box, his head bouncing off of the board inside, the helmet falling to the floor.

Red is all I see—all I want to see. I want his blood to stain the ice when they drag him out of here.

Twisting him around, I pop his jaw with my fist as he tries to cover his face. Relentlessly, I land blow after blow as the white of his skin turns red.

My ears are silent, no voice or music getting through. Only this. Only him.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” I sneer, spitting down on him.

Someone pulls me backward, strong enough to move my entire body, and when I turn to see Griffin and Elias holding me, I realize that I might have gone too far.

My hearing starts to open back up, absolute chaos ringing out around me.

My knuckles ache, and I shake my hand, blood spraying to the ice. Although I’m not sure whose blood it is.

“You’re a fucking killer. Leave some aggression for the rest of us.” Griffin smiles at me proudly, chuckling softly.

When I look over at Elias, he shrugs. “He deserved that.”

“Yeah”—I nod, smiling—“he did.”

Pumping my arms in the air, I skate away from them, directing my attention to the crowd that somehow grows even louder.

Hopping the board door, I’m pat on the back as I disappear into the tunnel. I won’t be playing any more tonight—that’s for sure—not after what I just did.

Medical is beside me the moment I enter the locker room, grabbing my knuckles and assessing the damage. But I’ll be fine. I just split the skin on a couple of my knuckles. But it was worth it.

The Legends beat the Royals, four to zero, making me feel even better, knowing that fuckhead is going home with black eyes and a big fat L.

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