Page 126 of One Good Puck
“Watch your fucking mouth, McCoy,” I grit out.
Around me, chaos erupts. Players from both teams are shoving and punching each other in the crowded hallway.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ryker running out from the medical exam room and joining the fight.
Someone pulls me off McCoy, and I stumble back.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” someone yells.
“McCoy, you’re such a piece of shit.”
“What the hell is wrong with your coach? He thinks he can punch a player?”
“Maybe if your boy would keep his fucking mouth shut.”
The hallway is a chaotic tangle of maroon jerseys and blue jerseys. Fists are flying. A few helmets get tossed around. The only words I can make out are profanity.
I try to push through the wall of brawling bodies so I can get back to McCoy and finish him off, but Jason pulls me off and holds me back.
“Stop this shit right fucking now,” he screams out at everyone. He’s so loud that my ears ring.
Only about half the guys stop fighting.
“Right fucking now!” he hollers again. “Denver players, get your ass to the locker room now, or you’re not playing the rest of the game.”
Everyone finally stops fighting. The guys exchange insults as they all walk off. When we make it to the outside of our locker room, Jason aims a hard frown at me.
“What the hell was that?” his tone is bewildered and pissed off all at once.
I shake my head, adrenaline pumping through me. I feel like a caged lion desperate to break free.
“You need to get it together before you address the team,” he says.
I huff out a breath, then walk to the middle of the locker room.
The heat of embarrassment finally hits. The skin on my face feels like it’s on fire.
I’m supposed to be an example for the players on this team. I’m supposed to inspire them to play their hearts out. I’m supposed to be a steady and confident leader, not some hothead who loses his shit on an obnoxious player.
“I’m sorry about that.” I rest my hands on my hips. “I lost my cool. I shouldn’t have gone after McCoy. But it’s been a tough game with some next-level shitty officiating, and I guess it finally got to me.”
The guys are quiet as they nod their heads, like they understand completely.
“That’s no excuse though. I should be better than how I acted just now.
“Um, Coach? Can I say something?” Xander asks, his tone hesitant. I nod.
He wipes his sweaty brow with his forearm and lets out a breath. “I think it’s badass that you went after McCoy. He was being a dick. He deserved for you to punch him out.”
I lift my eyebrow, surprised. “Really?”
He nods. The rest of the guys do too.
“He crossed the line,” Blomdahl says. “And when youcross the line, you deserve to be put in your place. That’s what hockey is all about.”
“We wanted to fight for you back there, Coach,” Sam says.
“Yeah. We’ve got your back no matter what,” Del says.
