Page 6 of UnWholly Angels
As I turned to leave, I heard his voice ring out from beneath the grate. “See you soon, Freckles,” he called.
“See you soon, King.”
Chapter Three
Riley
Present Day, Twenty-Nine Years Old
My head rested in my hands as I sat on the locker room bench thinking about tonight's game. Tired was an understatement, and I felt like I hadn't been at the top of my game in weeks. It was nerve-racking. I had no doubt I was letting my team down.
It was bad enough that I had started my hockey career later than intended. Getting locked up took three years away that I could have been playing and strengthening my skill set. Getting out at twenty put me at a disadvantage for being drafted; most of my teammates were scouted and drafted early, while theywere still barely twenty and thriving. I felt like the odd man out sometimes, forced to jump through a few extra hoops to earn my place on the Cardinals.
The only saving graces I had were Nick and the Stryker twins. They had put in a good word for me with their coach, afraid that my time away would kill a career that hadn’t even had a chance to start. They refused to play if I wasn’t drafted, and by the time I started my sophomore year of college, I finally had a chance and dropped out without a second thought. Personally, I thought their bluff of not playing was an idiotic move. But they were my idiots, and I wouldn’t want to play this sport with anyone else.
The arena came alive with the screams of fans from both teams, bringing me out of my thoughts. I blew out a sharp breath, continuing to lace up my skate in an intricate knot before grabbing my stick to wrap the athletic tape around it. My fingers reached under my neck guard for my lucky charm; the smooth surface of the engraved cross necklace sat right over my heart. A place it never left, and a painful reminder of what I'd lost years ago.
“Let’s go, man,” a deep voice said from in front of me.
Nick, better known as Lux, kicked at the bottom of my skate, urging me with a sympathetic smile to head out onto the ice. I didn’t need his pity, or anyone else’s for that matter. Following closely behind, I tapped his ass a couple of times with the blade of the stick as we moved through the tunnel. A short moment later, I relaxed instantly as my skate bit the below-freezing ice, and my mind was already in the game.
The plastic of my mouthguard created a slight crunching sound as my molars rubbed against it. We were up by three goals in the third period, and nothing could stop us now. We could finish them off without a problem. The defense made it way too easy to make the breakaway and grab the opportunity to pass or shoot. No brainer.
My eyes focused on the referee as the puck fell slowly to the ice. I moved fast, scooting the puck toward me to win the face-off. Shooting behind me and into the D-zone, Ethan Stryker caught it and passed it to his brother, who got it back to center ice quickly. I only had a few moments to kick against the ice and get to the puck before anyone else. I pushed hard to get it exactly where I needed it to go. Being a center took mental focus and an insane amount of agility, but I loved it. Some would call me a sniper, others on the team an enforcer; really, it just depended on how I felt that day.
Hockey forced my body to its limits, but there was nothing quite like hearing your name chanted from a full arena. It was even better when I knocked one of the other guys on their asses, and a chorus of booing unleashed from the crowd. Being the villain wasn’t always a bad thing. Making captain about a year ago didn’t change the team dynamic like I thought it would. Everyone listened to me accordingly, and even I surprised myself from time to time with the motivational speeches and shit.
Taking the chance to set up Nick and faking the shot with a small shake of my shoulders, I passed him the puck, watching with pride as it bounced between his skates until it found its way to the blade of the stick. He took the shot, and the puck bounced off the pads of the goalie, launching itself behind the net. Gliding swiftly around, the puck practically appeared at my feet, and in the opposing goalie’s moment of distraction, I aimed for the top right corner of the net, quickly grabbing the rebound as I camegliding around the other side. The arena erupted in a chorus of chants. I was pleased watching as they stood from their seats as I skated across the bench of my team, glove bumping them along the way.
The team we played against tonight was extremely tough offensively, causing a multitude of dives and protection of our own goalie. I’d taken a puck to my left thigh and gritted my teeth in pain, but I rose to play nonetheless. The only way you were getting my ass off the ice was on a stretcher. On the ice together, our team was unstoppable, particularly when the five of us were on the line together. Coach was smart. The other team knew this and had spent more than half the game roughing up my guys. It was like body checks and fights were more important than scoring.
One was particularly interested in Nick—Number seventy-four, Scott Brunner. He made up for his lack of skill by being the team's physical embodiment of Godzilla. The repeated abuse was causing Nick to lose focus, even doubt his abilities, and I wasn’t having it.
Forced to do a change, I huffed and made my way to the bench, hopping over the side to sit down for a much-needed break. Noah Stryker attempted to hand me some smelling salts, but I declined, instead opting for hydration. I hated the smell of that shit, and my stomach rolled anytime he used it. Tipping my head back, I squirted the water over my face and groaned as it slid under my neck guard and over my sweaty chest.
Despite being in the middle of the game, all I could think about was the auction tonight. For the past nine months, I had been fascinated with a cam girl I found through Nick and his partner Chloe. I'd been watching her live shows for some time now and had probably spent an insane amount of money between my monthly subscription and private cam sessions.
Tonight was different. Tonight, MWsub4You would be auctioning herself off to the top-tier subscribers, and I had gotten an invitation. The thought of three months with the filthiest woman I’d ever seen in the flesh made me shiver with excitement. Shit, I'd pay her all the money in the world to be my personal slut. No strings attached was easy; it allowed me to fuck and leave the next morning without an explanation or consequences. But even that was starting to get old and boring.
It would be shitty having to head out on the road halfway through it, but surely, we could work something out. I'd be willing to pay extra for her to stay.
I wonder if she’s into group fun?
It would be cool to have Nick and Chloe join in. A new kink had unlocked within me watching Chloe’s breast milk leak through her shirt, and I'd kill for a taste. Nick was a fucking lucky man to have a body like that to worship. It had been far too long since we’d all had some fun.
A chorus of boo’s echoed around the arena as the other team scored. The red flashing light behind their net signaled, and my shoulders deflated. The whistle blew, and the same fucker clocked Nick right in the face. In a flash, both were on the ice. Scott ripped Nick’s jersey over his head and threw a wicked right hook, which was always a dirty move in my opinion. The other person had no real ability to fight back with all our gear in the way. The fight lasted no more than a minute, and after it was over, Brunner skated to the penalty box with a triumphant grin spread across his face, while Nick made his way toward our bench with a grimace. Wait until that fucker got back on the ice, this would not go unanswered.
He's done.
“You okay?” I yelled, my voice drowned out by the commotion and screams around us.
“Yeah, I snapped. Bad move on my part,” he panted, grabbing the cloth that was handed to him and dabbing at his swollen lip. “He was chirping a bit, then threw in a comment about Chloe.”
See? Relationships equal mess, and loss of focus.
Nick didn’t say anything after that, and I figured leaving it alone was the best option for now. We needed to focus in order to finish this out victoriously. After a few agonizing moments, my line skated back onto the ice. I was impressed with the opposing goalie. He was a newer kid, drafted this season. He must’ve got a second wind in the last five minutes because he’d blocked every shot that came his way.
Locking eyes with Brunner, my gaze darkened, and a smirk slowly spread across my face. The asshole visibly gulped, and I laughed, waiting patiently for the ref to blow the whistle.
