Fated Shot

Chapter 12

Jack

“Alright boys, last game of the pre-season. Keep it tight, keep it clean. I don’t want to see sloppy mistakes out there.” Coach Cameron’s voice booms loudly in the locker room. The sloppy mistakes comment, although not addressed directly to me, I’m positive was mentioned purely for my benefit.

Distraction doesn’t suit me, and I haven’t been able to keep my head straight. As a result, I doubled my practice time this past week. I've been running extra drills with Max, started meditating, and hell, even tried Scott’s melatonin. No celebration drinks for me either, even after our wins on Monday and Wednesday. All to try and get my head back in it.

Two more seasons. I’m not some superstar up-and-comer. I’m an enforcer, prone to injury, and already past my prime. I’ve gotta keep grinding for my spot on this team. No more room for error.

The arena is pulsing with energy the moment we step on the ice. Exhibition games, you’d think wouldn’t have this level of turn-out, but the Toronto fans never fail to surprise me with their dedication. It’s a tough first period and we just can’t get into the right rhythm. We had an early lead, with Theo sniping a clean goal thanks to an assist from Penn. Their chemistry just keeps getting better which could mean a huge season for us.

The Carolina Cougars are playing incredibly well though, much better than last season. They brought in a lot of young talent, big hotshots with bigger egos. Evan has let in two goals so far, so we end the period with the scoreboard showing 2-1.

The second period starts with more electricity. We’ve had to regroup and really step it up with this new showing of strength from Carolina. I can already feel the tension building, they came back on the ice feeling a bit more cocky than usual. They want the win, you can feel it.

The hits start getting a little harder as we make five shots on goal in the first five minutes of the period. Scott wins the faceoff in front of Carolina’s net and we take possession of the puck as he knocks it back to Penn. It’s a bit of a scramble as we work to find an opening. I recover the puck as Scott clears it from the corner behind the net. Spotting Penn open, I whip it to him as he tucks it in behind their goalie’s skate.

The siren blares, as the crowd roars to life, fans on their feet chanting “Brooksy-Brooksy.”

He’s grinning ear to ear as I tap the top of his helmet with my gloves. “Atta boy, Penn.”

Now Carolina is getting sloppy. Max and I jump back onto the ice a few minutes later to join the play as Theo finds an open pocket launching it toward the net. Their goalie saves it, but I can see the trouble brewing as we circle for the faceoff. They need a momentum shift.

The puck drops again, and Scott wins the draw, flipping it back to Theo just as their center closes in on him. I can’t hear the words exchanged, but it’s impossible to miss the agitation on Theo’s face.

That’s my cue. I bound over, shoving myself in the middle of them. Maverick Stone is definitely a new kid trying to prove himself as a tough guy. Six-something and built pretty big for a center. He likes to fight—his three missing teeth and wild eyes are a dead giveaway .

As I push him back, all I hear is the crazed, “You wanna go?” and I’m zoned in. We drop our gloves, and the whistle blows. The crowd is now screaming at top-notch, my adrenaline surging instantly as I lunge toward him. I grab hold of his shoulder pad and take the first swing. Connecting beautifully with the side of his face, it knocks his helmet up. This isn’t my first rodeo.

He manages to land a sloppy hit on my cheek before I go again, this time knocking his helmet clean off. That fucking rattles him.

Leaning forward with a wild swing in retaliation, he gets me really good in my torso, knocking me off balance. I feel my body tumbling, so I latch on to his other shoulder pad and take him down with me. We land on our sides on the ice, and I immediately feel shooting pain in my ribs from the impact. No room for weakness, though. I get in two more rapid blows to his jaw before the whistle blows again, and we’re dragged apart.

I get up slowly, my head spinning. The moment I straighten, a sharp pull tugs at my ribs. The crowd is still roaring as I skate over to the penalty box. Hands slap the plexiglass around the box when I spot them, and I get the wind knocked out of me for the second time tonight. A few rows up, standing are Mia, Bev Cameron, and Seb.

Bev’s brows knit together, concern etched across her face. Seb, on the other hand, is grinning like a class-A fuckwad, clapping and shouting along with the crowd. Mia’s usually flushed cheeks are ghostly pale. She locks eyes with me, her hands dropping to her sides as she scans me frantically. I drag a hand over my face, smearing away the bead of blood gathering on my top lip. The door of the penalty box swings open, but Mia’s gaze stays glued to me. Both Bev and Seb notice, looking between her and me before I drop my head and step inside.

Jealousy rumbles through my stomach, but I will it away and focus on the game, adrenaline still pumping through me. Mind over fucking matter. I don’t allow myself to even look over again for the rest of the game. We win 3-2.

I can hear the shouts of the boys from here. As soon as I got off the ice, I was pulled into one of our training rooms for a once-over from our lead athletic trainer. With the all clear, I head back to the locker room.

Despite their best attempts, I made it clear I’m not celebrating tonight. I’m relieved at the win, sure, but I’m feeling more battered than usual and can recognize that I need rest. Not to mention how foul I’m feeling from seeing Mia with Sebastian. I say my goodbyes, and I’m home an hour later. Turning on the shower, I look down at the texts coming through my phone.

Brooks Bros

Reid: tough hits tonight, how you holding up?

Penn: trainer said he’s fine, but he won’t come out with us

Me: I’m indestructible

Reid: alright tough guy, rest and ice bath tomorrow, got it?

Me: yes, coach

Reid: Nance was heated, she actually swore at the screen during the fight

Me: Give her a hug for me.

Reid: will do.

Penn: seriously Reid, tell him to come out with us. A drink will cure him

Reid: leave him alone, Penn

Closing my phone, I jump in the shower letting the warm water provide a nice relief to my stiff muscles. When I step out, I catch a glimpse of the deep purple bruise spreading across my ribs. I lift my arm, wincing slightly as I examine the damage. Could be worse, I tell myself. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I grab my toothbrush, but just as I start brushing, a rapid knock echoes through the door.

Ugh, Penn. Marching over, I shout, “Get lost, Penn, I’m not going out tonight.” Irritation grows as I swing it wide open.

Mia.

In an instant, her expression shifts from disheveled to mortified as her eyes scan my body. She’s absolutely frozen, and I glance down, realizing I’m standing there with nothing but a towel around my waist and a toothbrush dangling from my mouth. Her hair is pulled back today in a high bun, exposing ears that are as pink as her flushed cheeks, and her eyes are wide with a startled look.

Her gaze darts from my abs to the towel, then back to my face, as she stammers, “I-I…”