Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 119212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
I glared, feeling a spike in my blood. The magical spell of the game had been interrupted, but I knew that was why he was targeting me. He wanted in my head. Well, welcome to the shitshow and walk your ass right in. Enforcers didn’t work on me how they worked on most players. They brought an edge to the game, knowing you’re targeted, and I welcomed that edge. I used that edge to up my speed, up my adrenaline, up everything, and the more aggressive he got against me, the more aggressive I got against his teammates.
He just didn’t know that yet.
* * *
It was in the second period when he made his move.
He swung in.
I saw him coming, moved the puck to Franklin, and I turned to meet him.
Okay, asshole.
He read me and veered back.
He was bluffing, but I read him right and I nodded to Franklin.
I pushed forward, veering right past their enforcer as he was swinging back around. He wasn’t ready for that. Franklin shot to me and I moved forward with the puck, Franklin swung in against their enforcer. No contact was made, but Hendrix was skating with me.
I passed to Hendrix.
Hendrix passed to Franklin.
Franklin moved in, got cut off, and the puck came back to me.
I lined up, did a tight circle, and tapped it to Hendrix.
Hendrix got it in.
Goal three.
Then their enforcer came at me.
There was no bluffing this time.
* * *
Two games in a row.
Fuck.
My jaw hurt. My hands hurt. Everything hurt.
I was tired.
The mind games had me tired by the end of this game.
We were up three to one. Alex let one in, and I was hurting, so Coach kept me for my breather.
He signaled the line change, but I was held back.
Alex stayed on.
Another thirty seconds.
The third line went out.
Alex came back in and his gaze found mine. I read the apology there and dipped my head. There was nothing else to say. This was the game.
“You good?” From the assistant coach.
I nodded. I wasn’t but I gritted my teeth. That was all strategy from their team. Their defender was better than Alex. I was out there. I had the stamina to meet him, best him at times, and then they sent their head-fuck guy in and it worked. I fought him off, but that beast was raging in me, simmering underneath. He wanted out to play.
I hit the ice, felt that ‘home’ feeling, and I smiled.
I was letting the beast out.
There was no way they’d see him coming.
* * *
At the end of our last period, I heard from the stands, “WAY TO KILL ’EM, CUT! I NAMED YOU THAT FOR A REASON!”
There was a roar from the stands.
Yeah. Everyone loved Killer Mama Alice.
9
Cut
The team headed for the hotel, but I had it worked out to stay the night with my family. It was on my dime to fly back the next day, not with the team. It was worth it, especially now walking out from the arena, my entire body tired from our post-game workout and my mom was waiting for me.
“Hey, big guy.”
Same greeting after every game, with a wide smile, and she held her tiny arms out for me.
I bent down, hugging her back and she embraced me, squeezing tight. Another reminder never to underestimate Killer Mama Alice. She had the grip of a bear, and once she was done hugging me, she let me go and patted my arms. “You’re looking dapper.”
I raised an eyebrow.
Dapper.
The Killer part of her name was gone since the game was done.
“Hey, Mom.”
Her face softened, and she pulled me back in for another hug. “Oh, man. I have missed you.”
I glanced around, but no one else was with her. “Where are the others?”
“Your dad went to get the vehicle, and you know Dylan and Jamison. They said to text them when you showed and they’d meet us at the door.”
I did know my brothers. “They’re off flirting with girls?”
She grinned, patting me on the arm as I started for the arena’s door for the players and family. “You know it.” She was pulling her phone out when one of the attendants came over.
“Mr. Ryder, a driver is out front saying he’s your father.”
I nodded.
Alice snorted. “Can we tell them he’s not your father?”
“Mom.”
She laughed. “What? It wouldn’t last, but it’d be fun to see what he would do.”
Her phone was buzzing and I noted, watching her as she read the messages, “He’d just park and then call you to have us walk out to him.”
“True. It’s not worth it.” She was punching buttons on her phone, frowning and biting her lip. “Your brothers. Do they really think we’re going to let them go to a nightclub with some girls they just met tonight?” A pause. A ding from her phone, and she laughed. “And I don’t care to see these girls’ Instagram accounts. The amount of skin these girls are showing does not help their case.” She was narrating as she typed, “No. You cannot go out with these girls. We’re here to see your brother. Period. Get back. Now.”