Winded, I gasped for air as the trainer came over, and I shooed him back off the ice because I just knew this shit was about to get insane. “I’m fine. Get off the ice.”

The refs blew their whistles, but they knew the score. That was dirty, and it had to be settled.

Muss skated over and pulled me to my feet. “You good? Get your head?”

“I’m good,” I yelled. My shoulder hurt like a bitch, but I didn’t have a concussion.

River was pounding into the fucker that hit me, and when one of Detroit’s guys came up behind him, I didn’t think, just launched myself into the fray, grabbing him up in my arms. If you couldn’t hear the heavy thud of fists meeting flesh, it would almost look like we were hugging.

“You dirty fuckers,” I grunted.

“Break it the fuck up!” the ref yelled, ramming his hands down between us.

I grinned down at the Detroit player I was hitting, his jersey gripped tight in my hands. Laurens. Not a bad guy, considering the whole team were fucking dickwads.

“I’m done,” Laurens huffed.

“Yeah, me too. I still have all my fucking teeth, and I’d like to keep it that way.” I looked at the ref. “We’re good.”

Bless his heart, he took my words at face value, but I didn’t get up off Laurens for a bit. “Sorry for the dirty hit,” Laurens told me, though he wasn’t the one who’d hit me. “Just how he plays.”

Yeah, Rusket was one of the best defensemen in the league, but he played fucking old school. Dirty.

“You guys should work on that.”

Laurens just grunted and threw me off, as River and Rusket got sent to the box.

The game was close, but we scraped through 3-2. After River and Rusket got into it, tensions had remained high, which was tough on the body but made the crowd go crazy with bloodlust.

Yeah, I definitely should’ve had Nova come to one of the more gentle games. But this was the first one of the season, and we’d wanted her here.

As the sports medicine team went through and iced everything that needed to be iced, I steamed my muscles in the shower, then put on my suit to go talk to the press. Everyone wanted to know how we’d fare this season, like we were ever going to say anything other than we were going to go all the way to the playoffs.

I sat through the inane questions. Yes, we were aiming for a Cup win. No, I didn’t have any injuries from Rusket’s hit. Yes, I thought the team was in the best shape it had ever been in.

None of that was a lie, but damn, these press engagements were taxing as fuck.