The Cocky Hockey Captain

Chapter 16 ● No. 13

I was going to have fried Eagle for dinner.

With a roar and strength I didn't know I had in me I tore through the ice in a second as the Eagle rolled himself away from Dean. I did not imagine the smirk that crossed his face, and that gave me all the fuel I needed to wipe it with my fists. I dropped my gloves.

He didn't see me coming. Nobody did. Maybe I was too small and they didn't consider me a target. I fell on the little shit like a hailstorm and started pummeling him. The surprise element didn't last long. He was stronger and started rolling over as soon as I'd landed three solid hits on his smug face. I didn't know how to fight on the ground, but I was already devising ways to keep inflicting damage when I was pulled away. I struggled against my captor and realized it was captors, and they were wearing black.

"Calm down, Bernal!" I recognized Shane's voice in my ear but there was a delay in between my hearing comprehension and the muscles of my body that kept flailing around, trying to hit the target.

It took him and someone else to haul me off. I tried to turn and see if Dean was fine. The fall had looked really bad and weird even before the Eagle fell on him. I wondered if he'd been hurt before that. I wondered if he'd been hurt by the Eagle.

But of one thing I was sure. I had been the one to hurt the Eagle.

They put me in small bench and it took me a few seconds of my fresh and limited hockey knowledge to realize I was in the penalty box. A referee came by and confirmed as such. Two minutes for fighting, he said. He also added that I was lucky they'd decided not to suspend me.

I didn't care much for what the man was saying as I stood up and tried to look out the ice. There were a lot of people in a bit of melee in the middle, but it didn't look bad enough that I'd get company in the box. A loud banged exploded next to me and I jumped as I realized I was right next to the Eagles' bench. What the fuck? Did they put me in the wrong box on purpose?

One of the dipshits from the opposite team ran his thumb across his beefy neck and I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, teddy bear," another said with a sneer. "How are you feeling now that your pretty boy's down?"

I whipped around back to the ice. Coach Gauthier was helping Dean skate off the ice. Our Captain was looking down at his foot, and his skate looked off. I sucked in all the air in the box as the Eagles started laughing. I exploded onto my feet and banged against the glass pane.

"Fuck off!" I shouted.

It was the longest two minutes of my life. Two minutes where we suddenly went from being in the lead to trailing behind 2-1. Sitting there surrounded by glass as my team fought off the onslaught of Eagles, while we were down our key player and one extra man, while I was completely useless, brought me back to a state of mind I'd never wanted to reprise. To a moment where I was also alone in a cage of steel and glass. Afraid. Defenseless.

I squeezed my elbows and drew my knees up, trying to remind myself that I was not there, in that car. That I was definitely not weak anymore. That I was there because I was aggressive like the rest of them, because I knew how to take care of myself and others. And then I remembered that I was supposed to be there to take care of Dean.

That thought helped to take me out of my mind. When the two minutes were over I skated to our bench, where I found the rest of the team that wasn't playing sitting around Dean and Assistant Coach Gauthier. The man was kneeling down, testing Dean's ankle.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Dean looked up and the frown cleared off his face like it was a reflex. "I'm fine, I keep telling them so."