Burn Into Me (Into Me Series Book Two)

Chapter Eleven - F.T.W.W.W.

Jackson's POV

I use my shoulder to check this guy into the boards, stealing the puck from him. Shifting on my blades, I take off toward the goal. My lungs burn and my legs scream as I dodge the other players trying to fuck up my plans. My eyes are focused on the goalie, the voice of my first hockey coach drilled into my head.

Hockey was the only thing that got me through being a foster kid. My social worker would fight for me to be able to play hockey at every home Connor and I were moved to. She justified the cost of the equipment, travel, and whatnot as it being, and I quote, "cheaper than bail money or hospital bills from him trying to kill himself."

She wasn't wrong.

To this day, hockey is where I go to get all of my anger out. I hit pucks so I don't hit other humans. And then I hit other humans anyways. But it's okay because it's hockey and you're supposed to. I don't hit them that hard. I've only sent someone to the hospital twic- nope, three times. He egged me on though. Fucker totally deserved it.

My mind snaps back to the present, seeing an opening in the goal over the goalie's right shoulder. I shoot the puck to the high-left corner, watching as it sails right past his hands and into the goal.

"Fuck yeah!" I shout as my team surrounds me, smacking my helmet, arm, ass, back, etc. while cheering.

I glance up to the stands and find her standing on her feet, shouting as loud as she can as she claps, a huge smile across her face. She wears my jersey, my name- no, our name sewed into the back with her favorite pair of black, ripped, skinny jeans. The rest of the arena falls away when our eyes lock. It's just me and her. Her beautiful eyes shine against the dark makeup she wears (she has a show after this) as the skin around them crinkles because she's smiling so hard. She shouts my name, blushing under my gaze as she holds her hands intertwined against her chest. She mouths "I love you" to me, to which I smile wider and shake my head as I take my turn blushing.

I step off the ice and onto the bench, sighing as I sit down. I chug water from the bottle in front of me and watch as the next face-off takes place on the ice. Riley is acting as center, fighting for the puck. He loses it and the other team takes it down the ice. He attempts to steal it back, but misses, running into the boards. Riley is usually a really good player... something is off tonight.

"Come on T-Bar, get your head on straight!" I command. He shakes his head at himself as he chases after the guy with the puck again.

Jet's right. Something is eating away at him. Something's torturing him. I glance over my shoulder at Jet, who chews on her cuticles, eyes on Riley. They flick down to me momentarily, concern present. She raises an eyebrow at me and then looks back to the ice.

Connor and Riley fly after the puck, along with two people from the other team. Shoulders are being thrown and people are getting shoved into the boards. Riley's face is turning an incredibly deep shade of red. The other team makes a goal, which pisses Riley off further. He curses loudly, Connor grabbing his shoulder and saying something to him. Riley nods a few times, heading back to center ice for the face-off.

The puck is dropped and Riley goes for it but misses again. He curses loudly and chases after the puck again, practically sprinting on the ice instead of skating. He lays out the player from the other team, smacking him into the glass so hard it silences the entire arena and makes both benches of players stand on their feet, myself included. I hold my breath in my chest, waiting for the other guy to start moving again. That was a dirty fucking hit. Another player from the other team grabs Riley by the back of his jersey. He starts beating the fuck out of Riley, the refs' whistles blowing as I push myself over the wall and toward the fighting.