Puck My Sins On Ruthless Ice

Chapter 9: Ice Protocol

Gianna’s POV

I did not look away from him. I kept my face blank and my voice flat. "Your contract is already messy, Barrett. If your ex-girlfriend is going to jump on you in the halls between games, it will ruin my image. The school board is looking for an excuse to kick you off the team, and a big public fight with your ex is exactly what the web blogs want."

Ryker’s eyes darkened. His hand was still on the metal locker next to my head. He made a tight fist, and the metal wall made a rattling sound behind my ears. He did not look mad at me, he just looked annoyed by the whole situation.

"She means nothing to me, Cole," he glared. "I did not invite her down here. I did not want that kiss. It will never happen again. My mind is on the game, not on the past."

"Good," I said, looking straight into his gray eyes. "Because if a student or a camera catches her doing that, they will know our relationship is a total lie. I signed that paper to stay hidden and safe. I do not want to get dragged into a school drama that puts my face on the local news."

Ryker let out a low grunt. His broad chest moved up and down under his heavy gold and black hockey pads. He did not move his hand away from the locker, but the angry look on his face changed. He looked cooler now.

He stared at my face perhaps to see if I was scared, but I was good at hiding my feelings. I gave him no reaction at all.

"You really only care about the rules, don't you?" he muttered. He leaned a little closer. His heavy shoulder pad brushed against my leather jacket. "Most new girls on this campus would lose their minds if they were in a room with me. You just look like you are checking a business contract."

"I care about surviving," I whispered. "You have a big NHL draft on the line. I have a big secret to keep. If anyone finds out who I was before this school, my life is over. We both have reasons to play our parts perfectly. So let's just stick to the words on the contract."

Suddenly, the loud stadium horn went off, and it echoed through the concrete hall. It meant the next part of the game was starting in two minutes. The heavy double doors at the end of the hall started to shake and the team room doors opened.

I could hear the sound of sharp skates scraping the floor. The rest of the players were heading back to the ice.

Ryker did not jump at the loud sound. He kept his eyes on mine for a long moment. Then, he finally dropped his hand from the locker and stepped back. The hallway felt freezing cold the second his huge body moved away.

"The contract says we have to look like a couple in front of the cameras," Ryker said. He pulled the tight straps on his elbow pads to fix them. "That means when I walk out of that tunnel, you need to be back in that front seat. I need them to see you wearing my eighty-eight jersey shirt before the game starts again."

"I'll be there," I told him. I smoothed down the front of the white shirt. "Just keep your temper under control out there. A big fight and a penalty will not look good on the morning news report."

A tiny spark of mischief came into his gray eyes. "I'll keep my gloves on, Cole. Just don't miss the end of the game. It is about to get very loud."

He turned around, picked up his heavy black helmet from the bench, and walked down the dark tunnel toward the bright lights of the main ice rink.

I stood against the lockers for a few seconds. The hall became very quiet, but the roar of the crowd outside grew louder. I checked my phone to make sure no weird numbers were texting me. Then, I walked back toward the concrete stairs of the VIP section.

When I got back to my seat, the arena was wild. Our school was up by one point. The student section was screaming and slamming their hands against the clear plastic walls. I walked down the steps, ignored the people staring at me, and sat right behind the team bench.

On the ice, Ryker was like a machine. He did not look up at the seats again. He was totally locked into the game. He moved fast, shouted orders at his team, and used his big size to push players away from the net. Every time he hit someone into the wall, a loud boom went through the glass. But he stayed calm and did not get into any fights.

The clock ticked down to the final two minutes, then the other team took their goalie off the ice to try and score. The pressure was crazy. The puck slid toward our side, and a big mess of sticks and skates formed right in front of the goal.

Suddenly, Ryker broke through the pack. He stole the puck with a quick move of his stick. He skated across the center line in three huge strides. The whole stadium stood up and started screaming. He was skating down the empty ice alone.

With ten seconds left, he flicked his wrist. The puck slammed right into the back of the net.

The horn blared loud. The game was over. We won, two to zero.

The whole team jumped onto the ice and ran to gather around Ryker. But he broke through the circle of players. He skated straight toward the clear plastic wall right in front of my seat. He stopped, and threw a cloud of shaved ice against the glass.

He pointed the tip of his hockey stick straight at the numbers on my chest, and the giant stadium screens flashed our faces for everyone to see.