One Shot

SILAS PETERSON

I passed the puck, turning my body slightly as Blake kicked forward. The puck went straight for the net. The timer went off just once, and cheers and ululation burst through the crowd. I stood there with a cocky, shit-eating grin on my face, a smirk settling on my lips as I flipped the rival team the middle finger.

“I’m starting to feel sorry for you. You couldn’t even score one? That’s piss-poor skills y’all got,” I complained in mock pity, throwing sarcasm right in their faces. We’d gone with four goals tonight. Three scored by me, one assist.

I could see their blonde hitter growling as he stormed in my direction, stopping only a few inches away from me.

“I heard your brother is locked up again. His stupid addiction… but well, I guess it’s nothing new for the Petersons.”

“Shut the fuck up before I knock those teeth off your goddamn mouth,” I warned, my tone wavering with the fury etched into my throat. Fuck… what had Alex done again? He really couldn’t keep himself clean for a single fucking week.

“Or what, Silas? You gonna beat my ass up? You’ve got a shaky reputation, while your brother snorts half the goddamn country. Here you are, swinging more blows… addicted andrenaline   junkie. I heard your daddy dearest beat your mother to death…”

That was it. Anger bubbled beneath me. I swung forward, already boiling with every murderous intent I could muster for the thick fucking fool.

“Keep my family’s name out your goddamn mouth!” I swore, landing a blow to his side. He staggered backward before people on the rink got an idea of what was going on.

I swung for his face twice, not merely satisfied seeing blood streak across his face. What had he called me? An adrenaline junkie? Well, I’d fucking prove him right.

“If you wanted to ride my dick that bad, you didn’t have to throw a punch and climb on me. I could’ve given you my address.”

Hot rage blinded me. I hated it.

I shot my hand out to his neck, aiming to strangle him. I could hear voices around me now, arms trying desperately to pry me off him.

“Die, you fucking fag” I cursed as I felt hands yank me back. Zander coughed, his swollen lips bleeding. The intensity was enough to calm me down.

“Everyone is watching, dude, for fuck’s sake. Get yourself in line,” Blake’s voice echoed.

I sat there, heavy breaths leaving me, staring right into Blake’s face. I didn’t like being triggered, and whenever I was, I didn’t stop easily.

‘I’ll kill you next time, you gay son of a bitch!’ I cursed spitting right at Zander’s face.

“Silas,” Blake urged again, yanking me by the arm.

I raised my gaze. The crowd had fallen still now, cameras flashing, rays nearly blinding me. I stormed off the rink. My teammates looked too stunned, like they’d never seen me fighting this bad.

A car pulled up right as soon as we left the garage. Elio’s face popped up as the door opened, and I groaned partly from frustration. What was it this time?

“Get in, now,” Elio ordered.

I shrugged as I settled into the car, pulling off my hockey gear. Elio didn’t look pleased one bit. He was my manager. He’d gotten used to my shit, but the look on his face this time was slightly alarming.

I tensed as he typed something into his tablet and handed it to me. I yanked it from his grasp, scrolling through the tabloids. My name was everywhere.

“Silas Peterson”

“Silas Peterson slur”

“Silas Peterson abusive attitude”

“Silas Peterson is homophobic”

I scoffed lightly, reading through more ridiculous switches. I was toxic and abusive? Then what on earth was Zander?

“This will blow over. It usually does. Where is Alex?” I asked, tossing the tablet back at him.

“Stop the car,” he ordered the driver, who immediately pulled over and stepped out, leaving Elio and me alone.

“You publicly beat an opponent. Again. You used slurs, Silas. You called him a fag, a gay son of a bitch. Do you know how many gay supporters you have? You’re being canceled right now, and I’ve gotten concerning calls in just a few minutes…”

A dull set tone settled into his voice as though to emphasize his point. I watched as Elio, frustrated, huffed and switched off the tablet.

“Jesus, he came at me first. Are they fucking blind? He started it, said some shit about Alex and Mom,” I explained.

Elio was right, though. I should be fucking worried. Things weren’t looking good.

“I’m not sure there’s much else we can do to protect you. I’ve tried, time after time. I warned you. Get your fucking attitude in check, but you never listened. I’ve been asked to make you resign, Silas.”

He dropped his gaze from mine. That brought a lot of confusion.

“I called him that because he made gay jokes, asking me to ride his dick and shit. It was pretty sick. He verbally assaulted me.”

“But people didn’t hear that, did they? I think Zander did this on purpose. He triggered you, and you were pretty busy swinging on him and all. I’m sorry, but this is all I can do. Alex has been bailed with one last warning. If he goes to jail next time… I’m sorry. Your fees will be paid accordingly, but I think it’s best you hold a press conference and tell them you’ll be taking time off. It’s better than being publicly fired.”

“Bullshit. You think I’d throw away my life’s work, everything I built, just like that? There must be another way. You’re the one with the brains, Elio. I can’t give it up… You know what this means to me. Hockey is everything to me. There has to be another solution.”

I spoke, hating the desperation in my tone as it became evident. I could feel beads of sweat forming at my temples.

Elio sighed, then gave a small nod that instantly sent relief crashing into me.

“What is it? Tell me, Elio. I’ll do anything to fix this mess,” I pleaded.

Elio pursed his lips before scooting closer, eyes wandering like someone could eavesdrop, even though we were parked in the middle of nowhere.

“There is one way. It would clear this all out… but I’m afraid you’re not going to like it, Silas.”

My throat went dry, but I was desperate. This was my one shot. I couldn’t afford to screw my life up.

“Spill it, Elio. What do I have to do?”