1
WAR
“C’mon,kill him! Kill him, War!” The yells grew, resonating in the almost empty auditorium. Adrenaline spiking through my veins, I ignored the groupies, my attention nailed on the six ounces of vulcanized rubber whooshing over the ice. Yet my mind wasn’t on my practice but on the text message I’d gotten earlier.
I know who you are.
The fuck they did! My jaw hardened. I had my share of crazies, but this—
A body rammed into me, sending me crashing into the protective glass. Despite my helmet, my brain shuddered inside my skull. Anger, already brimming, unleashed. I spun around, grabbed the asshole, and slammed him headfirst into the pane. He stumbled back, skates sliding out from under him, and fell on his ass.
Rampant cheering erupted from the stands, hauling me back to the ice.
Breathing hard, I stared down at my fallen teammate, my mind slamming back online again. Fuck, fuck!
“Jesus Christ, War!” Cal spat out. “What the hell, man?” He swiped his bleeding mouth.
Hell. I helped him up from the ice. Growling, Cal removed his helmet, a bruise already forming on his jaw.
Good thing Coach, or Miles, my agent, wasn’t around. With enough of their warnings about reining in my temper hanging over my head to create a damn thunderstorm, even during off-season, I was literally skating on thin ice and in danger of being pulled out during the opening game come October.
Whoever sent the fucking text found a surefire way for me to lose my shit.
Tamping down my frustration, I picked up Cal’s hockey stick and handed it over. “Sorry, man. Reflex.”
“You’re never gonna make the team’s captain with that temper.” Cal’s pissed-off voice blasted me, reminding me of what else was at stake. Not just that and missing another game, but the endorsement deal Miles was in the middle of negotiating.
I pulled off my helmet, and swiped my sweaty brow on my bicep, then cocked an eyebrow. Didn’t bother to say it. Because Iwouldmake team captain, one way or the other.
He snorted. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass, Chaos,” he grumbled out my team nickname, and winced, gingerly rubbing his jaw. “But you keep me on my toes.”
“Cal, I love you!” a groupie shouted, drawing our attention. “Let me kiss your face better—I’ll kiss everything better.” More chants followed. “Cal, we love you!”
“War, smash his face in!”another yelled with glee.“And I’ll kissyouany place you want.”
Cal snorted. “Man, the disloyalty after I let them inside.”
“Yeah, transient like the breeze. You’re welcome to them.” I pivoted, looking for the puck.
“Whoa, hold it!” He skated around me, raking his fingers through his short, sweat-slick, light hair, eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline. “When didyoustart taking the high road when fucking is like breathing for you?”
I undid my glove, my attention shifting to a few guys gliding onto the ice for practice, and I scratched my unshaven jaw. “Bored.”
Cal, still swishing around me, stopped so suddenly, a good thing he had fucking excellent reflexes, or he’d be kissing glass again. Bored wasn’t even it. I felt…jaded.
“Seriously?” he demanded.
I shrugged. They wanted to fuck a notorious player like me. Bad both in the rink and out of it. The media usually embellished the truth, but mine was pretty close to reality, especially since it took certain words to trigger my temper.
Gutter trash.
My teeth ground down at the label.
It was said during the quarter finals, to derail my concentration and set me off. It had ended with me nailing the fucker in the ribs, slapped with a one-game suspension, and having to endure three similar lectures at different times from Coach, Cheetah’s PR, Amber, and Miles. If I wanted to continue playing hockey for the Cheetahs and keep my endorsements, I had to reel in my shit.
“More for me, then.” Cal grinned when I didn’t answer. “Ow, fuck, man!” He grimaced, gingerly pressing his jaw again. “Those damn fists of yours should be banned. I’m outta here.” He glided for the exit, then yelled, “Catch you Thursday, same time?”
“Yeah.” I glanced back at the middle row seats in the Cheetah’s facilities, where my two best friends, Max and Jack, sat with their wives. Surprisingly they hadn’t left yet after delivering the astounding news earlier.
