Page 58 of Sweet Venom

A chaos of wild, loud cheering from the superfans ensues as I get sent to the box. Again.

I absorb it all, feeling each call of my name, every scream. They rush through my veins with intoxicating adrenaline. Like a damn drug. And even though the arena isn’t as loud as during the season, many superfans attend any and all of our informal practices.

Kane shakes his head at me, clearly disapproving of my excessive violence. The other players, however, look at me with admiration, some patting me on the shoulder during my skate to the box as I remove my helmet.

Damp hair falls to my eyes, and I shake it back, making the crowd go wilder.

Preston skates by me, slamming his shoulder against mine, then grinning as he glides backward. “I owe you one, big man!”

“Will you stop antagonizing him now?” I ask as I’m about to go in.

“Nah. I’m already in his head. It’d be a waste to stop now.”

Not surprised.

Preston is a shit stirrer of epic proportions. I know he must’ve said something extra outrageous for Hunter to target him so viciously, but I don’t give a fuck.

No one hurts Preston when I’m around.

Just like Kane, Pres doesn’t even like to fight or indulge in much violence on the ice, so one of us has to take care of that pesky problem.

Team A takes the lead during the two minutes I have to sit and watch, but I’m not worried about that. Once I’m back in there, I’ll settle things once and for all.

My head’s completely in the game tonight, and they have no chance against this version of me. Kane will nag about this penalty box visit, but it’s not the first time, nor will it be the last.

The crowd goes wild when I’m released from the box. This time, I check cleanly, scoring what I’m sure is my record high.

It doesn’t matter that I’m playing against my actual teammates—an opponent is an opponent.

It’s not that I can’t play without over-the-top violence, because I’m fully capable of that. It’s that I don’t want to.

For me, hockey is an outlet for pressing urges that constantly bubble at the surface. A way for me to get drunk on the power I can wield on the ice.

We end up beating Team A, the overwhelming cheers of the crowd echoing around us.

Vipers Arena is half full today—people from all over GUand the town must’ve seen our unofficial practice dates and come to cheer for their favorite violent and sometimes bloody sport.

It’s why Vencor has to have control over the team and the university through Kane, Preston, and me, as well as three more Members who play for the team.

The Vipers have too much influence to leave unsupervised. Therefore, throughout the three years we’ve been at GU, we’ve been tasked with keeping an eye on Members, many of whom are college or management team staff.

We’ll put some in their place if need be, slice their throat for betrayal. Anything that ensures Vencor has absolute power within this town and beyond it, even.

After a shower—and an earful from Kane about my reckless play—I’m cheered on like a king in the locker room.

The guys want to go for drinks and fuck. We usually hang out at this club downtown where all the puck bunnies flock to score with the hockey gods of the town.

But I’d rather be someplace else. In a fucking shithole that reeks of piss and rot, if you can believe it.

The guys are talking nonsense in the background as I pull a black shirt over my head and check my phone.

I might have texted Violet last night. You know, after I licked ginger ale from all over her body and then thought why not taste her cunt as well.

Not my brightest idea.

I meant it as an intimidation tactic, a way for me to exert power and make her tremble with fear. Butsomehow, that ended up with me wanting her to tremble with desire.

I could tell she was a bit apprehensive about the whole thing, probably as much as I was.