Chapter 7 Stolen Glory
Rafe’s POV
Storm Ridge Arena was packed with so many people that couldn’t be counted. People were shouting, stomping, banging on the glass with a sound that echoed around the arena and vibrated through the ice under my skates.
Across the rink, the Pacific Fury were already warming up, their red jerseys moving fast across the ice. Players shouting to each other.
Meanwhile, Scouts stood along the glass, holding their notebooks and tablets as lifelines as they secretly watched each player. And way up in the VIP section the draft committee was seated, watching everything.
“This is your chance, Rafe. Don’t you dare fuck this up.” I muttered to myself as I stepped onto the ice and pushed off for a quick lap. The crowd noise surrounded me, some people were cheering, some were watching.
And some—especially the Pacific Fury fans looked like they were waiting for me to fail.
Too bad for them.
I wasn’t planning on failing tonight.
But then as I skated past the Storm Ridge bench, my eyes landed on him. He stood along the boards, his shoulder resting coldly on the railing, watching me with that same calm, serious expression he always had.
Our eyes met for a moment, then I slowed a little as I passed him. “Hope you warmed up properly,” I said through my helmet, “You’re going to be chasing me all night.”
Shawn didn’t reply, he just stood there staring at me as if I were a disgusting piece of trash that blocked his path.
Typical Shawn Calder.
I smirked and skated away the moment the puck dropped.
First shift.
I leaned forward for the faceoff, gripping my stick tightly. The team captain of Pacific Fury glared at me, with nothing good about the expression in his eyes.
“Ready to embarrass yourself, rookie?” he muttered.
“Only if you show me how first.”
The puck hit the ice, I snapped my stick down, and won the faceoff clean. The puck slid straight back to Torres, but I skated towards him, calling for it.
Torres was about to pass it to me when the Pacific Furydefenseman rushed in, trying to push me toward the boards.
Nice try big guy!
Before he could realise anything I spun away from him, pulled the puck back, and fired a quick wrist shot.
CLANG!
The puck smashed off the crossbar, just two feet away from scoring my first goal of the season.
“Shit! That was close,” I muttered under my helmet as I skated past the bench during the line change, but then…my eyes landed on Shawn again.
I slowed just enough to look at him.
“Get ready, Calder. You’re going to see that a lot tonight.”
“See what?” He snapped back, unable to hide his anger anymore.
“Doing your job for you.”
I didn’t wait for his response, I skated off and got back into the game.
Second shift.
The Pacific Fury dumped the puck deep, but I got there first, I grabbed it and began to speed up towards the goal post—
Then Shawn jumped onto the ice. He came straight at me, fast and steady, trying every way possible to ruin this moment for me.
I faked a left turn, but Shawn was too quick to predict my movements, and he blocked immediately. But not good enough though.
I spun right, slipped past his stick, and skated past him. Behind me, I heard his skates digging into the ice as he began to chase after me without sparing even a single second.
I crossed the blue line and passed the puck to one of my teammates heading towards the net.
SHOT!
GOAL!”
The arena exploded with cheers instantly.
“Wow,” my voice dropped to a low whisper as I skated towards Shawn. “I thought you were supposed to be good.”
“Keep talking, Navarro.” he shot back quietly, “That’s the only thing you’re ever going to be good at.”
“Oh, don’t worry…I’ll keep talking all day long just to annoy you.”
Shawn didn’t utter a word; instead, he followed me behind the net, his stick fighting to take the puck but I used my body to shield it. I flicked the puck forward and it slipped between two defenders and landed right on Torres’s stick.
SHOT!
GOAL!”
The crowd exploded with shouts again as Storm Ridge scored their second goal.
“Starting to feel bad for you, Captain,” I said to Shawn as I slowed towards him. He stared at me, those deep blue eyes dark with anger.
“Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Navarro.” He growled, “The game isn’t over yet.”
I grinned.
“For you maybe.”
Third Shift.
The Pacific Fury came back stronger than ever in this period. Two quick goals and just like that, the game was tied.
3–3.
Only three minutes left and we were still tied to them. The puck bounced loose at center ice, before my brain could think I grabbed it and sprinted forward. The crowd gasped in shock as they all watched me, as their lives depended on it.
This was it.
My long-awaited moment.
I cut left, but the Pacific Fury defender lunged. I slipped past him and skated straight toward the net.
The net was open and calling for me, so I pulled my stick back to shoot. My eyes were on the draft committee to make sure they were watching this moment.
Then—
BOOM!
Something slammed into me, pain exploding through my ribs. The shoulder crashed into my side, and the puck flew away.
I pushed myself up slowly, getting ready to confront whoever the fuck just ruined my perfect debut.
What the—
Shawn?
He stood over me, his chest rising and falling heavily. Then he leaned down slightly. “You’re not scoring tonight,” he said quietly, “Not on my watch—“
SHOT!
GOAL!
The Pacific Fury took advantage and scored for the final shift. The arena went silent instantly, a mix of disbelief and anger etched across their faces.
Final score.
Pacific Fury 4.
Storm Ridge 3.
Our ten-year winning streak was over.
My ribs hurt as I forced myself up, but the anger burning inside me hurt more. I skated to the bench, barely hearing Coach Ramirez yelling words that made no sense to me.
All I could see was Shawn heading down the tunnel, walking calmly like he didn’t just screw me over.
“Hey!”
I ignored the pain shooting through me and followed him into the tunnel.
“I’m talking to you, Calder!”
He kept walking.
I grabbed his shoulder and slammed him against the wall. “What the hell was that?” I snapped, “You just cost us the game!” Shawn didn’t answer, just stared at me with those cold eyes.
I pushed him again.
“Why the fuck did you stop me from scoring? Huh! That wasn’t defense…because you intentionally did it.”
Still no response from him, he stayed silent. But it only made me angrier.
I stepped closer, blocking any entrance that he would use to leave.
“I’m not going to let you walk out of here,” I growled. Then I stepped closer, blocking any entrance that he would use to leave.
“….Not until you tell me why you just fucking screwed me over out there.”