by Doyle, Dawn
She shrugged and shook her head. “Cash didn’t give any specifics, but he said the guys had something special planned for the Cats tonight.” She smoothed her hand over her blonde braid, the golden tresses resting on the front of her sweater. The black and red team colors matched the black hoodie she wore underneath. I wore one, too, but not the hockey sweater. God, no. I was attending for Daria, that’s it.
“Do they do that often?” Daryl had often planned something or other for a specific player, and Sean had assisted, but never for the entire team.
“No, but a guy on that team, Trent, hurt Chan.”
“I remember Cash telling us all about it.” A couple of broken ribs, his nose, and a lot of bruises. I hadn’t seen him, but Daria had told me he was bad for a while, and promised Trent would pay for taking him out. I snorted as the altercation came to the front of my mind. Channing’s idea of ‘payback’ was body checking from behind while Trent didn’t have the puck. All that did was earn him a benching for a couple of games. Boo hoo. “So, does this mean they’ll be fouling throughout the game?”
“I don’t…” she trailed off while looking down at her screen. Her wide eyes slid to mine, her mouth stretching to a wide grin. She swatted my arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you and Maddoc had dinner together?”
“Excuse me?” I squeaked, my heart galloping in an instant. Daria turned her phone to me, and all body heat left me, replaced with a chill that ran right down my spine. “What the actual hell?” Right there, in full fucking color, was Maddoc facing the camera, shooting V’s and smiling. In the background, chewing on fries while looking down at a book, was me—completely unaware he’d snapped that damn selfie he’d said he could take and send. “That asshole.”
“So?” Daria urged, nudging me with her leg. “Spill the details, Kai. Don’t leave anything out.” She looked at her phone again at the offending photo. “Aww, that looks so cute.”
“It’d look better if I had my hands around his throat,” I grumbled. “Which can still happen—the night is young.”
“Oh, come on,” Daria admonished. “You don’t look upset here, babe, you look like two people hanging out. Just tell me how this came about—you never breathed a word.”
I dropped my head back and blew out the longest breath of my entire life. “It wasn’t planned, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Don’t care, just need the deets. Now, tell me everything.” She turned to me, crossing her legs in my direction, waiting for me to open up about my dining nightmare.
“Fine, but don’t repeat this. It’s not something I want to come back on me.” And so I did. I spilled every little detail I could remember, and there was a lot. Daria tried to hold back her amusement, but she couldn’t—no way. Even her hand covering her mouth couldn’t disguise the fact she was laughing at my expense. “It’s not funny, Dar, I was minding my own business. Nobody asked him to sit with me.”
“I know,” she blurted, her words louder than necessary with the force of her laugh. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t laugh, but you have to admit, Maddoc is a funny guy.”
I deadpanned. “I’m glad you think so.” I moved closer to her, our heads almost touching. “We almost got into a fight about how I treated him, yet him doing this to me is hilarious?”
Daria moved away and sighed. “Babe, Mad is actually a pretty decent guy. Like I said, what he did for you was so sweet, and you acted like it was a personal attack on you.” I rolled my eyes at her accusatory tone. “And if he hadn’t planned the whole thing, you might not have gotten your stuff back from Anton.”
I whipped my face toward her. “He planned it? I though it was Cash?”
Daria shook her head, her lips tightening into a thin line. “Nope. Cash overheard your conversation, told Maddoc, and a few days later, he and the guys…” She tipped her head to her raised shoulder and lifted her brows. “He did that for you. He didn’t have to do, but he did because that’s the kind of guy he is.”
Music blared through the speakers, announcing the teams’ entrance to the ice while I continued to stare at my best friend. Daria never mentioned anything about Maddoc, ever, and to tell me this now…
“You could’ve told me this at the time.”
She shrugged. “Wouldn’t have made a lick of difference and you know it, Kai. In fact, I honestly thought if you knew Maddoc spearheaded the entire plan, it would’ve only made things worse.”
I held my hands out. “How?”
Daria snorted a dry laugh. “Think back to how you reacted—how you blew up when you thought Maddoc was just involved with the others.” I did, and I winced at the harsh memory. It wasn’t pretty and it definitely wasn’t warranted. PMS wasn’t an excuse. “And from the way you acted when he carried you to your room, stayed over… Think about what you would’ve done if you knew it was all his idea.”
And what I would’ve felt if I’d known I was in his arms…
I didn’t have a chance to. Team players from the opposition, the Laketown Cats, skated onto the rink, zigzagging around each other, their arms high; their hockey sticks in hand. They glided past us, the boards the only thing separating us from them. Once they took their benches, the Westchester Wranglers made their appearance.
Jonah entered first, a wicked grin across his face as he skated forward, with Bobby following behind. Cash was next, then Maddoc. My heart lurched when he turned his head in our direction as though searching the stands. His eyes locked onto mine from across the ice, and a slow smile spread across his face, the overhead lights dancing across his features, giving his usually mischievous expression a sinister edge to it. My skin prickled as he seemed to float around the rink, his feet barely moving to push him forward at quick speeds.
The team circled the rink, beating one hand on their chest over the giant, black ‘W’ on the front, outlined in red, then white, making it stand proud on the black shirt. They raised their arms like the other team had, showing the thick, deep-red stripes, also lined in white, down the sides of their shirts and shorts and also around the hems.
They skated faster and faster, the whoosh of their passing growing louder.
When they slowed to enter their benched area, Cash stopped in front of us, and placed his hand on the plexiglass; Daria placed her hand over his.
“That’s my man right there,” she said proudly, her face lighting up with love for the guy who looked at her with the same adoration he had since they’d first met.
“There’s the love of my life,” he replied, then winked before entering the area, taking his seat right next to where Daria sat, the pair staring at each other through the barrier separating them.
I turned back to the ice when a huge body stood in front of me, and I froze when I saw it was Maddoc.
“Hey, cupcake,” he said, his voice barely audible over the deafening cheers when he approached. “Glad you could make it for once.”
I looked up at him, taking in his full gear that made him look bigger than ever. His hair was covered by his black and red helmet, but a tiny lock of blond had escaped just at the front. “Didn’t want to be here,” I fired back with a ‘fuck you’ smile, hoping he hadn’t noticed I’d been committing his image to memory.
Not yours, Kaia, so stop ogling him.
He moved right up to the board, looking down on me while I sat. “You’re here all the same, sweetheart.”
Then he was gone, skating to the team’s area and taking his place beside Cash.
“Oh, this night is gonna be interesting for sure,” Daria said, a stupid freaking grin on her face. “I should’ve brought popcorn.”
I elbowed her and she laughed. “Just stop, Dar.”
“I can’t. I saw how you looked at him, babe, and there’s no fucking way he didn’t see it too.”
Well, shit.
There was barely any talking from either of us as I struggled with my emotions regarding Maddoc’s kindness, even though I knew I was a bitch for finding any way I could for doubting his i
ntentions other than just looking out for me. Daria remained silent as she watched Cash on the ice, his effortless movements having him zipping past us in a flash.
After the first break was when everything began going downhill… For the opposing team.
The whistle blew and Maddoc took control of the puck in an instant, and passed to Cash. Bobby zoomed past him, stopping the opposing attacker from ramming into him. Jonah flanked him, giving Cash an open area to pass. He whacked the puck across the ice, delivering it with ease back to Maddoc.
He played with the puck, hitting it side to side, jumping around to skate backward, forward, then seeming to tip-toe across the ice and between players. His moves were so precise, it was as though he’d choreographed the entire play, like a figure skater during the toughest competition of their lives.
The Cats couldn’t get around. Their defense player, Trent, moved into position to head Maddoc off when Maddoc passed backward to Jonah. Many of the spectators got out of their seats as our team had control of the ice. Maddoc, Cash and Bobby circled back while Jonah flew faster and faster toward the goal. He skated around, evading the defending team by coming around the goal so fast they couldn’t catch him. The Cats’ goalie moved forward, ready to intercept the puck, when Cash bolted up on the other side, and Jonah passed the puck, rebounding it off Cash’s blade, sliding it to the back of the net for a fantastic assist.
Just as the crowd cheered for the goal, mayhem erupted in the center, both Bobby and Trent breaking out in a fight. While we’d been watching the other guys practically dance around the other team, something had happened.
“Yes!” Channing cheered from the benched area. “Take that, you fucking asshole!” he roared, pointing at the brawling pair in the middle. Instead of his team gear, he was wearing a thick, black coat, unable to play even if they were desperate—the consequence of his illegal moves.
The referee got between Bobby and Trent when they hit the ice, pulling them apart and pointing at them, no doubt giving them a warning.
My racing heart sped up further when Cash skated toward us with Maddoc following. The closer they got, the louder my pulse boomed in my ears.
“What’s going on?” Daria asked, coming out of her seat and moving close to the plexiglass separating them. “Why are they fighting?”
Cash grinned. “It’s all good, baby, don’t worry about it.”
Maddoc dropped his chin, but I could see his lips curling up. His lids flicked up, his eyes meeting mine. “Hey, bestie,” he said, winking his insufferably long lashes. “Enjoying the show?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, making sure to push my breasts downward, hiding them well under my hoodie. “This isn’t a show,” I snipped as though I couldn’t care less. “And I wasn’t watching.”
He laughed, then skated backward to their zone. “Yeah you were, cupcake.”
I muttered a string of expletives under my breath as he turned away from me, my gaze dropping to the back of his shorts where his shirt hung low. I closed my eyes, opening them only when I tipped my head down.
What happened next was more of the same. Cash and Jonah splitting the D, Maddoc showing off with his spin-o-rama, and Bobby riding Trent’s ass hard. It was like watching the Cats’ demise in a sickeningly slow performance
“Not long to go, Kai,” Daria assured me after the second break, wrapping her arm around my shoulder and tugging me to her side. “Twenty minutes, and it’ll all be over.”
I shook my head as I looked out at the blood spatters where Trent had taken a beating and Bobby had lost a tooth. The idiot continued to play with crimson oozing over his chin, grinning to the crowd with his stick held high.
The puck was moving again, but instead of Jonah and Cash leading the offense, Maddoc and Bobby took the ‘stage,’ so to speak, skating literal circles around the team. Cash came up front, powering forward with Jonah to his right, passing the puck easily. Jonah handed it off to Bobby, then he passed to Maddoc. A player I didn’t know skated right up the center to the opposing defense zone as though he were invisible.
We stood slowly from our seats as we waited for Maddoc to shoot, but when he passed to his teammate, Daria’s hands flew to her head.
“Come on, Tanner, shoot it!” she yelled.
The dark-haired guy played with the puck, then hit it off to Maddoc again, who whizzed along the outside, back to his own area.
“Fuck shit up, man!” Channing bellowed, shaking his fists in the air. “Get that son of a bitch!”
And just as if Channing’s words had managed to cross over the screaming, Maddoc looked at Trent, a sickening grin plastered on his face, and hit the puck with full force… To Trent.
“No!” the crowd roared.
“What the fuck is he doing?” another yelled.
“Do it!” Channing urged.
It all happened so fast. The second the puck left Maddoc’s stick, he charged toward Trent. While the puck was gliding over the ice, Trent’s back was to us, his feet wide and his stick ready to receive. Maddoc’s concentration was on his target, his focus unwavering, eyes unblinking.
My hands flew to my mouth when they collided, Maddoc’s massive frame slamming into Trent with such force, Trent flew back, crashing into the boards right in front of us. The impact was so hard, his helmet flew off, his pained groans audible.
Maddoc stared at me, a wicked gleam in his eye and a curl at the corner of his mouth. His lips puckered up, kissed the air in my direction, then he pushed off of Trent and took control of the puck.
I couldn’t look away. I had no idea what the hell was going on, but this wasn’t ice hockey. This was a massacre—a perfectly timed, thought-out take down. I’d seen it before; I recognized the kind of play it was. Payback.
A horn blaring signified the goal had been scored, and Cash slid by us, turning backward to watch Daria.
“God, this has been one hell of a game,” she gushed.
“Hell is correct,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Maddoc!” Daria yelled, and my eyes left hers and flew to the ice.
Trent had Maddoc held to him by his shirt, his gloves off, fists tight in the fabric while he yelled in Maddoc’s face. Maddoc stood still, grinning at Trent like he wasn’t screaming bloody murder, insolence pouring from him.
Trent pushed Maddoc back, and continued to yell, his arms waving around, then jabbing into Maddoc’s chest again. The smile slowly slipped from his face, thunderous rage twisting his features. His mouth pursed, nose screwed up, and his glare… Jesus, it was filled with so much hate, it was palpable in the chilled air of the arena.
Maddoc didn’t do a damn thing to retaliate, just stood there and took whatever Trent was saying to him.
Why isn’t he doing anything?
My hands flew to my mouth as Trent’s arm raised. His fist flew toward Maddoc, striking him across his jaw, knocking him backward. It was as though that was what Maddoc had been waiting for. He threw down his stick, followed by his gloves.
“Yard sale!” somebody from behind us cheered as both sides’ equipment hit the ice. “Get him, Mad-dog. Punch that mother fucker’s lights out!”
Maddoc rushed Trent, hitting him over and over, his fist connecting with Trent’s face every time, and as bodies swarmed them, they disappeared into the foray.
A huge fight broke out, arms flying, fists pummeling, with black, and red shirts merging as more and more players beat the crap out of each other.
Whistles blew, but nobody paid any attention, nor to the officials who attempted to pull the players apart.
“What the hell happened out there?” Daria asked once she’d reached Cash in the locker room. I wasn’t going to go in, but she dragged me along into the sweaty room. She held his face, inspecting every inch of his skin before being satisfied there weren’t any marks on his face. “That was a blood bath, baby.”
“Trent’s a sore loser,” he explained, then gestured to Maddoc who was sitting on the wooden bench in front of his numbered l
ocker, holding an ice pack to his jaw while speaking to who I now knew was Tanner. “Couldn’t handle that we beat them again.”
“The zebra had eyes on Jonah and Cash,” Channing said into his phone. “Man, he had no clue Trent was getting his guts rearranged by Bobby.” He paused, then spoke again. “Yeah, it was definitely better I was benched. I wouldn’t have been able to hide going after that cocksucker. I would’ve taken him down as soon as the biscuit was in play.” He laughed to whoever he was talking to. “Coach has already given the guys shit over it, but I know he was secretly impressed.”
“How did that escalate so fast?” Daria asked Cash.
“He said something he shouldn’t.” Bobby answered, licking around the side of his mouth where his tooth had come out. He turned away from her and spoke to Tanner. “Seriously, talk shit about Mad-dog’s girl, and you’re playing with fire. It’s a wonder he got away with just a concussion, his face all fucked up, and a sprained wrist. Hell, Chan was lucky he got just a black eye and a bloody nose, not to mention that other guy—”
“Hey, Kaia,” Jonah greeted me as he punched Bobby in the arm. Bobby shut up instantly, turning to me and smiling guiltily like he’d said something he shouldn’t.
The pit of my stomach opened up and dragged me inside, smothering me with despair mixed with guilt. My emotions ran rampant, burning my chest and curling my fingers.
I walked over to Maddoc, and the moment he saw me heading toward him, he lowered the ice pack. “Are you okay?” I asked, then watched as Tanner got up and walked away, but not before giving me the once over, his blue eyes taking in my thick hoodie and dark jeans. “That looks painful.”
“I’m fine, cupcake,” Maddoc replied.
I rolled my eyes. “I’ve asked you to stop calling me that.”
“But you’re sweet, just like a cupcake,” he said, his lips stretching, then stopping as pain laced his features, his jaw clenching. The small white strip over his right eyebrow puckered with the movement. “I’m all good.” He stood, towering over me even in his black hockey socks while I barely leveled his chin in heeled boots. He reached behind him and yanked his shirt over his head, revealing his body armor, which didn’t conceal his abs a tiny bit.
