Page 52 of Puck with Karma
I’ve never been this reckless with a woman in my life. A picture of her floats through my mind, distracting me momentarily. But that’s enough for the puck to fly right past me.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath right before taking off to catch up with it. But it’s too late. Someone from the opposing team got it and skated off with it, leaving me in the proverbial dust.
A whistle blows long and hard, calling an end to the game. We all skate into various parts of the rink while trying to cool down.
“Dude,” Noah pops up next to me. “Are you okay? I can’t believe you missed that.”
I don’t respond. Instead, my eyes find my father sitting in his usual spot out in the seats, an expression of pure anger on his face. I meet his gaze and don’t let go. He wants to intimidate me into submission, but I’ve been past that for years.
He threatened to quit as my manager, convinced that I wouldn’t be capable to survive without him controlling my career. What he doesn’t understand though is the fact that any joy I had for the sport happened a long time ago. Now, I could walk away without hesitation.
Someone checks me from behind, pushing me into the boards. I turn my head, coming face to face with Cole Samson, one of our second line defensemen. He joined the team about a year ago, and he’s been after my position ever since.
“Ooooohhhhhh, the high and mighty Xander Hamilton fucked up,” he snickers. “Are you in trouble with your daddy now, Xander?”
He elbows our other teammate who happens to be breaking his skates right by him. The guy chuckles in amusement but has no idea what we’re even talking about.
“Do you need your daddy to come show you how to skate?” Cole continues goading me. “Maybe he can come down here and hold your hand so you can go after that puck.” He is cracking up now.
I always end up in one fight or another. That’s how I release all the anger I have stored inside of me. I will beat up anyone who fucks with me because I got enough of my father fucking with me without me have any resources to defend myself.
That is why, I now don’t make any exception for Cole Samson. I smirk when he pulls his helmet off. It’s as if he is inviting me to punch him in the face. Who am I to decline the invitation?
I pull my glove off and drop it on the ice.
“Don’t do it, man,” Noah begs me. He knows me well enough by now. “He’s not worth a suspension. Please.”
There is absolutely no hesitation on my part when I bring my arm back and punch Cole right in the nose. There’s a faint cracking sound, followed by blood spurting out and landing on the pristine ice underneath our skates.
“Fucker!” Cole starts screaming in shock. “What the fuck is your problem?”
He pulls his gloves off, looking like he is about to come after me. The commotion grabs everyone’s attention, and, in no time, we are surrounded by our teammates, both of us being held back on each side.
Coach is blowing his whistle, sounding like he might expire from the effort, that’s how long it is.
“Take him to the clinic,” he points at Cole. “And you,” he turns to stare at me with fury in his eyes. “In my office. Now!”
I don’t even bother to pretend like I don’t know he is about to chew my ass. This is not the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. It is always a reminder of our very first encounter in said office.
“What do you think it’s gonna happen?” Noah is right under my feet as I make my way off the ice. I step off the rink, pausing only to put the guards on my blades before walking toward the locker room.
“Do you think he’s gonna suspend you?”
I start laughing. “One can only hope.” That would get my father going really good.
“Dude,” Noah is whispering now. “Are you crazy? You can’t get suspended. We’re playing the Sliders next.”
The New York Sliders are our number one enemy in the league. I’m not worried about them though. They’re no match to us, and winning against them will be a child’s play.
“They’re not even gonna make the playoffs,” I now tell Noah. “We could win that game with just the fourth line.”
“You’re fucking crazy,” Noah shakes his head at me. “And the coach is going to have your ass.”
“It’s not the first time,” I shrug.
Deciding that I am done with this conversation, I unlace my skates and take them off, then pull on my jersey and the padding underneath, followed by the pants and underpants.
“You’re gonna take a shower?” Noah’s eyes are bulging out of his head. “Coach said to go to his office! You need to do that!”
