Did they know he was hurt? Had someone found out?
The third time he was slammed up against the barrier by the same guy, it took all his willpower not to elbow him in the ribs.
“What the fuck, man?” he growled.
The other guy laughed. “Thought you were into that kinda thing.”
Danny’s stomach went cold. He turned on him, tempted to throw his stick down, but stopped himself at the last second. This wasn’t the time, and aside from it being unorthodox to start a fight like this, Danny wasn’t sure he could win. He’d spent some time as an enforcer when he was younger, but now…
Now, some elderly people could have taken him if they knew where to hit him. It wasn’t just his knee. He was riddled with weak spots.
As much as he hated that, there wasn’t anything he could do.
Well, except win the game.
If he hadn’t been hell-bent on it before, he was now.
Ignoring the remark, he glided past, took a deep breath, and waited for his opening. A moment later, everything fell into place, leaving a clear line between puck and goal.
The fact that Danny was ten feet away from it suddenly didn’t seem like an obstacle. He took a dive, ignoring the fear of the inevitable fall, ignoring the urge to tense up before he hit the ice, reached out, and made the most accurate, technically correct hit of his entire career.
Miller, who’d started the game in defense, grabbed him by the back of the jersey to catch him before he completely lost balance.
Danny watched the puck sail right past the goalie’s knee and into the back of the net, then burst into laughter.
He was going to kick some asses tonight.
