Page 37 of Redeeming the Villain
“Are you fucking kidding me, Ash? Another one! Hatty watch, baby!” I scream as I palm his helmet with my glove and shake him with glee.
We skate toward the bench, Asher leading, followed by Elias, who got the assist. We bump gloves with our teammates before setting back up for the last face-off of the first period. And three seconds after the puck is dropped, the horn sounds again, ending the first twenty minutes with the score two to zero.
The second period and the first half of the third seem to go by in a blink of an eye, the Royals managing to get one goal on the board during a power play.
With ten minutes left on the clock, all we have to do is keep them from scoring. But we’d be lying if we said we weren’t trying to get Asher a hat trick tonight. Of course we are.
There’s a high chance that in the final couple of minutes, which are starting to dwindle away, the other team will pull their goalie to gain an additional player on the ice, leaving their net wide open. Which would be an easy opportunity for Asher to complete the three goals for his hat trick. An empty netter isn’t exactly the most exciting goal, but it’s still points in the book.
We set back up in our offensive zone, Asher taking the face-off. He wins it, dishing it over to me.
I get shoved from behind, the stick digging into my neck and whipping my head forward. When I crash forward onto the ice, the refs’ whistles go crazy as chaos ensues.
Bodies begin piling up above me, and fists are flying. Griffin begins to pummel the guy who checked me from behind. Getting to my feet, I decide to lend him a helping hand, but one of the other players steps in front of me first, clearly wanting to take the challenge for himself.
A gleam in his eyes answers the question in mine, and in a matter of a second, we flick our gloves to the ice.
I sigh, knowing how good this is about to feel.
Maybe I shouldn’t enjoy this part of hockey as much as I do. But I haven’t questioned it my entire career, and I’m not about to start now.
We grab the collar of each other’s jersey, our arms locked out between us. Cocking his arm back, he swings a right hook, but I dodge it, leaning my head out of the way.
I want to let him land a punch to trigger the ferocity inside of me. Which is the only reason his next hook lands.
Smiling through the pain in my jaw, I see the second absolute fear settles into his wide-set eyes. He knows I let him hit me, and this is the moment he realizes that he’s going to lose this fight.
Taking control, I cock my arm back and crack him right in the side of the head. Again and again, alternating between uppercuts and hooks.
Blood flies from his nose, decorating my knuckles and staining the ice.
He crashes to the ice, and I land on top of him. I could stop here, and I should. But I give him one more for the hell of it.
It’s kind of an unwritten rule to cease the fight when one of the fighters hits the ground. Well, if you want to avoid racking up extra penalties.
The refs pull me off of him, and I go willingly.
The crowd goes feral.
After the refs clean house, we’re put in the penalty box—Griffin, me, and the two Royals players involved. Although a moment later, the one I was fighting skates to his team bench and disappears into the tunnel—probably to get some medical treatment.
We watch the teams reset for face-off. Griffin and I have a front-row view, sitting side by side in the sin bin.
We win the face-off and take off into our offensive zone, looking to widen the gap of our lead.
One of our freshman players—an absolute rock star—leads the puck into the zone with Asher and Elias hot on his tail. The freshman takes the puck deep into the zone behind the goalie’s net. Elias dives through two defenders, catching the pass from the freshman, and dishes it to Asher.
He’s got this. The slot is wide open, and the goalie is out of place, having expected Elias to shoot it.
Asher pulls back and fires, and the puck flies into the back of the net. The horn sounds, and the rink vibrates from the noise of our fans.
Hats begin to fly onto the ice, tossed from fans.
Griffin and I jump up, smacking the glass with our sticks, gloves, anything we can use in celebration.
It’s Ashy baby’s first hatty with the HEAU Legends. Something to commemorate and definitely something to remember.
Our guys skate along the bench, bumping gloves as the ice crew skates out and collects the hats into a big bin. The puck is tossed to one of our coaches, set aside for Asher to keep.
