AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Change!”
“Thank fuck!” Hayes panted, trudging back toward the bench, hopping over the boards, and plopping down. He grabbed a water bottle and shot some into his mouth before covering his entire face with it. He’d been out on his shift for over ninety seconds because the defense couldn’t get its shit together, and if he’d been out there any longer, he might’ve passed out.
The whistle blew and the Isles called a timeout.
Hayes turned around and grabbed Reese, the athletic trainer, by the arm. “Salts, man. I need the salts.”
“Fuck off, Hayes. You used ‘em twice already. You wanna fry your nose completely? Do you need to call it a night, head back to the locker room?”
“Come on, man. I’m fuckin’ exhausted here. Please?”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have stayed out partying all night with TK.” Reese watched Hayes look away. “Yeah, you didn’t think we’d find out, did you? Payin’ off the security? You’re in fuckin’ deep shit, man. Both of you. Only reason you’re even in this game right now and not in the press box is because we’ve got three key pieces injured. Or else both your asses would be sitting.”
“Shit,” Hayes mumbled, reaching for the water bottle again and hosing himself down. He wasn’t having the worst game of his life, but it certainly wasn’t the best either. He’d wanted to impress Ryan, who was watching with some of the other guys’ families who’d made the trip, so he and TK had ripped two lines of coke each in the locker room bathroom stalls right before the game. That had powered him through most of the first and about a quarter of the second, when he’d hit the salts on two different stoppages of play.
He’d straight-up hit a wall after that, though.
The Kings were up 4-2, and there were just under 12 minutes left in the second. He was out of breath, completely exhausted, and his jaw was killing him, so much so that he kept opening his mouth wide and closing it repeatedly, just trying to get some relief, looking like a fish.
Cocaine comedown.
Coach Russell yelling at him forced him back to reality. “Hayes, if you dump and chase one more goddamn time without applying any pressure, you’re done. You hear me? You can’t just dump and stand there like an asshole. Get on the forecheck or you’re outta here. Understood?”
He nodded, looking down the bench at TK, who appeared surprisingly fresh-faced and alert. Hayes shot him a puzzled glance and mouthed, “The fuck?” It didn’t make sense that he wasn’t struggling just as hard.
TK mouthed, “I bumped.”
“Fucker,” Hayes mouthed back, pulling his helmet off and slumping forward onto his lap. Don’t even ask if I want some.
When it was time for his next shift, Hayes sucked it up as best he could and jumped out onto the ice, immediately racing toward the defensive zone and ending up in a puck battle against the boards with two of the Kings. Both crushed him up against the glass, one of them jabbing his elbow into his side.
“Fuck off me!” he yelled, elbowing him back.
The ref finally blew the play dead after yelling, “Play it!” several times, to no avail.
Hayes immediately turned to the player who’d elbowed him. “Fuck’s your goddamn problem, bitch?”
“Aww, what’s wrong, Hayes?” he taunted, skating backward as Hayes came toward him. “Can’t handle the rough stuff? Heard you and your little boy toy were all about it.”
Hayes gave him a quick cross check, causing two of the Islanders players to race over along with another one of the Kings. A small scuffle ensued, with one of the Kings gripping Hayes up by his jersey and pulling him away.
“Hey. Calm down,” he told Hayes gently, still holding him.
He recognized him.
Sev Kirscher, number 56. They’d been in the same draft class together, though Sev was a few years older due to coming from the NCAA.
“Fuck off, pussy!” Hayes spat, trying to free himself from the grip but unable to do so.
“Your man’s here watchin’, right? Come on, don’t do anything stupid. Just calm down.”
“Yes, I’m a fuckin’ homo. What? You gonna make comments about that, too, bitch? Let’s hear it.”
He laughed. “Yeah, no. That’d be the pot callin’ the kettle black, bud.” Sev let go of Hayes’s jersey and looked at him. He noticed the red light was on at the score table, so they skated around where the faceoff was going to be. “You look tired tonight, man.”
“The fuck’s it to you?”
“Still so aggressive and so cocky, Tyler Hayes.” Sev bumped into his shoulder and leaned into his ear. “Wonder if you’d still be that cocky with my tongue in your asshole.” He pulled away, as Hayes’s eyes widened. “Bet you wouldn’t be.”
