Page 15 of Home Game

He laughed. “How ‘bout I fuck you instead.”

He pinned me against the wall with his stinking body.

“Get off me,” I screamed in his face, going ballistic. I swung my fists, kicked my legs, trying to connect with anything I could find. I bit and spit and then when he reared back from my head butt, I pushed away from him, slipping and sliding in the wet mud. His long reach found me when I was around the corner, but he tripped over something, giving me one more chance.

The bus. The road. Anything. Anyone. I came around the corner and there was nothing but empty black road and puddles. Wait. Is that lights coming? Is that the bus?

I was crying and running when he pounced on me from behind. He was on me like a dirty animal, pinning me down with his body, while his fists rained down on my head.

Blinding pain.

I held my hands over my head, but the hits just kept coming.

And then everything went black.

CHAPTER 5

RYAN

“You should have hadthat last goal,” Jensen stood in front of my locker. “We would have won if you had made that goal.”

I ignored him. The entire team had played like shit tonight including our goalie. The pass to me had come a fraction too late and by the time I had a handle on the puck, the opposing defense had blocked me.

“Guess you’re not the hotshot that everyone says you are.”

“Hey, easy,” Max said from his side of the room.

We had looked like a misfit beer team out there tonight, and we were all to blame. I may have missed that last shot, but I had scored the only two goals of the night. It wasn’t like Jensen had been on fire. But I kept my mouth shut about that.

Jensen took off his shoulder pad and fired it towards me, narrowly missing my head. The entire locker room fell silent. Nineteen sets of eyes looked over towards me.

I stood up, picked up his shoulder pad. What I wanted to do was fire it back at him and get into a nice bloody brawl, but my meeting with the GM and Gordon came to mind. I needed to keep a cool head.

“No one trusts you.” Jensen hit below the belt.

I turned my back on Jensen. “At least I know how to put the puck in the net.”

I pulled my jersey over my head when a body jumped on top of me and yanked me to the floor. My arms were still caught up in my jersey, and he was on me, swinging hard. I took three hard shots to the side of the head before I got my arm clear. I swung hard, so hard, my fist connected with bone. His head snapped back. Blood gushed out of his nose.

Guys were yelling and then they hauled him off me.

“Walk it off,” two guys shoved him hard, pushing him towards the other side of the room.

My left wingman, Mica, leaned over me and pulled me to my feet.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” I said from between clenched teeth. I was beyond pissed but I kept my emotions in check.

“You’re a fucking dirty player,” Jensen called from the other side of the room.

The entire place erupted and for a long second it looked like we would have a full-on brawl. The coach stepped into the room and the entire place went still.

“Want to tell me what the fuck is going on in here?” he looked first at Jensen’s bloody face and then at my own. The entire right side of my face felt like it was on fire and I could feel a warm trickle of blood trace down my cheek.

“Nothing,” I said. “Just horsing around.”

He looked at Jensen. “Is that true?”