I feel the energy in the room turn up a notch as my words fire them up as I intended.
“Fuck no,” I hear growled out around the room.
“We are better than what we’ve been playing tonight. Use the skills we’ve been practicing every goddamn day for the past few months. Let’s fucking win this game so we can get the hell out of this shit ass town.”
The guys are amped in agreement as they gather their gear and put their helmets on. Placing mine on my head, I grab my stick and stand by the door, giving each guy a tap with my helmet as they walk by.
“Let’s fucking gooooo!” Hayes yells, walking down the corridor toward the rink.
Walking behind them, I follow them out as our blades hit the ice.
I ignore the boos in the crowd as I pass by the unruly crowd. It’s no secret that their fans hate us. The Bolts knocked them out of the playoffs last year, and they want revenge. We may have given them a win the other night, but I’m going to make fucking sure they don’t get two in a row.
I center up against Wilson and hold his stare.
“It’s going to feel really good putting your ass on a plane tonight after we kick it twice,” he smiles smugly.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not letting you have this win tonight,” I grin, pissing him off even more.
“You fucking wish,” he scoffs. “No way in hell are we letting you net three in this period.”
“We’re not,” I say, getting in the low position for the face off. “We’re going to net four.” The puck drops, and I don’t wait for his reaction as I take control of the black disc, shooting it over to Hayes, who stick handles it down the ice.
He’s thrown into the boards as the guy who's been hounding his ass all night tries to steal the puck. Hayes keeps control and breaks out of his grasp, but he’s held back by a stick.
The ref blows the whistle, stopping the game for a holding call.
At least their fucking eyesight is better this period.
“If you wanted a fucking hug, all you had to do was ask,” Hayes goads the player circling him now. “Have fun in the penalty box. I’ll just be out here scoring a goal on the power play you just gave me.”
“Fuck off,” he growls, getting in Hayes’s face.
Knowing a fight is brewing, I skate over to them and step in.
“This asshole isn’t worth it,” I say, putting my hand on Hayes’s jersey and guiding him backwards. “We need this power play, so skate the fuck away.”
“Aww, your guard dog doesn’t want you to get hurt.” The guy behind me snickers.
Hayes glares over my shoulder, and I fist his jersey as he takes a step forward.
“Dammit, Hayes, look at me,” I growl.
He finally tears his eyes away, and I get his attention.
“He just handed us a man advantage. You want to wipe that smile off his fucking face, then do it where it hurts the most and get that puck into their fucking net.”
His jaw pulses as he studies me. I know he wants to get a hit in, but now is not the time for a pissing contest. We need this advantage to score a goal.
“Let’s fucking do it then,” he fumes, and skates away.
Sighing, I turn and glare at Wilson as the refs lead him to the sin bin.
“Pussy,” Wilson laughs, trying one more time to provoke one of us.
“This next goal is for you,” I grin, not taking the bait as I slowly skate over to Kane. “How’s that wrist feeling?”
“Never been better,” he grins.
