But Viktor’s a wall of determination and skill. He slides across the crease, his leg extending in a perfect split. The puck ricochets off his pad, bouncing harmlessly away.
“Helluva save,” Rinne says beside me, his voice filled with admiration. “Kid's got instincts you can't teach.”
“He sure does.”
The game continues, the minutes ticking by in a haze of adrenaline and sweat. The Titans fight hard, but the Serpents match them stride for stride.
In the offensive zone, Reed and Blackwell lock into one other, trading checks and stealing the puck from each other, neither willing to give an inch.
“Those two are really trying to outdo each other every shift,” Rinne says as he tracks the play. “Fucking Novotny’s right.”
Reed gets control and passes to Walsh, who finally scores.
As the line heads back to the bench, Reed shoots Blackwell a snarky grin. “Suck it, loser.”
“You’ll be sucking it later.” Blackwell gives him the finger before hopping over the boards.
The game gets chippy in the third period, the Serpents desperate to even the score. One of their forwards picks a fight with Henneman, breaking his nose and leaving him in a heap on the ice. Knight just watches, a cold look in his eye, as if assessing whether Henneman is worth stepping in for.
But Viktor is on fire, making save after impossible save. He's a marvel to watch, his reflexes lightning quick, his focus absolute.
Rinne leans over. “The Islanders are going to be damn lucky to have him. Though maybe he should wait until his rights are up. Test the waters as a free agent. Probably could land a better deal, a better team.”
The thought makes my stomach clench, a cold fist squeezing my heart. Viktor, playing for another team. Being somewhere far away, out of reach.
It shouldn't bother me, but it does. More than I care to admit.
Before I can dwell on it, the final horn sounds, signaling the end of the game, our team pulling out a victory by one point.
On the way to the locker room, Viktor throws an arm over Reed’s shoulder. “You and Kill coming to Vortex tonight?”
Reed shrugs, a half-smile on his face. “Depends. If Kill's gonna be a sore loser, might need to stay home and cheer him up.”
Viktor laughs, but then he glances back at me. There's a challenge in his eyes, a provocation. He turns back to his friend. “He’s not the only one who needs to let off some steam. Might need to find someone tonight to wreck my hole.”
The fucking brat. He's trying to get a rise out of me, trying to push my buttons.
And damn him, it's working.
Because the thought of him grinding on some stranger in a club, letting another man’s hands roam his body . . . it makes me see red, makes me want to put my fist through the wall.
He wants to play games, fine. But he'd better be ready for the consequences.
Because I'm done holding back.
Chapter 10
Viktor
The bass thrums through my body, pulsing in time with my heartbeat as Eli and I weave through the crowd, the scent of alcohol and perfume thick in the air. I scan the room, searching for our friends, and spot them at our usual table, tucked away in the corner.
Connor's got his tongue down some girl's throat. Think she’s the same chick from the gala at the beginning of the season. Zach’s just scanning the room while rando guy’s sucking his dick. Poor soul, if the schmuck knows what’s good for him, he’ll run away.
“Hey, look who came to hang out.” Jackson half stands and gives Eli a hug. “Thought you were avoiding us all. Or only tolerated us because of Petrov.”
At the mention of Alexei, Eli slouches, so I throw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a side hug. “How're you holding up, with my dumbass cousin being gone?”
Eli's face falls, his eyes going distant as he drops onto the red leather sofa. “It's tough, not gonna lie. I miss him like crazy.”
