PUCK & PUNISHMENT

MONDAY. 5AM. BEGINNING

Ghost mask covering my face, gloves on and feet silent from wearing only on socks. I stand by the foot of Asher's wide bed, watching his chest rise and fall like he didn't subscribe to trouble six weeks ago.

His hockey jersey is draped over a golden mannequin like trophy. I reach for it, set it on fire and smoke curl up Scent of burnt sugar in plastic fills the wide room so  I drop it on the floor and jump out through his bedroom window. Asher rubs his nose as the edge of his blanket catch fire.

I smile when he doesn't wake... Then he jolt upright, then back when he catch sight of the fire

"Butler Chen!" he screams, voice deep and smooth,  swatting at the flames with a pillow that also catches fire.

Stupid.

Hands in my pockets, ghost mask still in place, I watch him finally grab a water bottle from his dresser and douse the fire.

Butler Chen and his sister finally enters.

"WHO THE FUCK SET MY JERSEY ON FIRE?!"

Asher roars, gripping the old man's shoulder.

"I.. No one young master" The man stutter and Asher push him away, running his hands through his hair, gripping it tight, then he turns... Directly towards the window.

Our eyes lock through his floor length glass he calls window and he cock his head, mouth opening to scream. I race away before the sound could drop.

"Get me that fucking lunatic!" His roar follows me as I scale the fence and disappear into the woods.

My heart races, not from racing but in knowing more hell waits for him in few hours and all the days that follow.

It is three p.m and the day has been peacefully dull without Asher showing his face. If I hadn't seen him put out the fire myself, I’d think he died in it. Not that I’d mind.

My phone rings and it's my twin. Remington.

The reason I'm here, pretending to be him. The reason I left military to be a high schooler even though I graduated four years ago.

Headphone set, I pick up the video call,leaning against the classroom wall. Not like anyone speaks to me, seems my twin had no friend.

"You don't have to pretend to be me." He says by the kitchen table in his wheelchair, spreading jam on bread while dressed up in the school uniform he'll never get to wear. My heart fractures again. Asher and his venom crew won't survive me.

"If he doesn't, I will" My dad supplies, looking all smooth as he walk in from his bedroom. His plan was to poison all four Venoms but I stopped him, not because I'm kind, but because my fucking twin spiralled at that reality.

"Torren talk to dad!"

"Vlad," I correct him and his eyes widen.

"I told you!" he chide, wheeling closer

"Don't call yourself Vlad, use Remington." His voice drops low

"Or your name." He concludes and I look at my brother

"I'll be fine, Remington." I offer comfort that won't suffice

"You don't have to do this" he repeats, his voice small and broken. I bring the phone closer to my face

"And you didn't have to get bullied or spend your senior year in a fucking wheelchair." His eyes go wide and my dad shake his head

"You said the f-word!" he whispers panicky while dad laughs

"I don't say the f-word!"

"Is that fucking so?" I tease

"I don't drive that 'death muscle' also"I smile at his nickname for my bike and he sighs

"They’ll know you aren't me. Please, go back to the military, NASA, or the mechanic... anywhere." A tear slip down his face

"They won't know," I reply glaring at a student that stares at me

"I'll pretend to be a student and bring you Asher’s fucking head." I conclude

"Be careful!" He calls out

"The Venoms are not nice!"

He adds and I end the call with a smile

"THE VENOMS ARE ON RINK!"

A student scream and others rush out.

Took them fucking forever.

I follow the crowd to the indoor rink and a large banner greets.

WELCOME BACK, WOLVES - CHAMPIONSHIP SEASON STARTS NOW 

It's a cathedral of ice, sweat, screams and life changing opportunities. The stands are thoroughly packed with students and of course, scouters

Asher’s uniform stands out immediately. Where the Venoms are red and black. Asher's is Gold and red. And the remaining players are pure red

On the rink are the four men I’ve spent six weeks studying:

ASHER ALEXANDER MICHIGAN: 6'2. Center. The President’s son and captain. Leader of the venom group,Sociopath and my enemy. Recruited by NHL already

CADEN MILLS ROBERT: 6'0. Left Wing. Son of the Roberts- Popular celebrity couples. Fastest hands on deck with a sister on drug

VLADIMIR ORLOVISTA: 6'0. Right Wing. Son of richest man in Russia (Druglord). My brother's main bully.

ELLIOTT CROSS: 6'3. Goalie. Son of the President’s Secretary. IQ 146 with psychopath tendencies. Least interested in bullies but does to hide himself.

They're called gods of ice and move like it.

Effortless, Synchronized and Fast.

Asher duck a puck and the screaming intensifies

"STING VENOM STING!"

The cheerleaders roar

"VENOM" and the people back it up like a failing karaoke team.

My brother's position on the rink is taken but I came for Venom.

I move out of the stands and head to the rink. The ref blows whistle and crowds ripple out gasps and questions

"Isn't that Remington?"

"Did he lose his mind?"

I ignore, focused on Vladimir 07. The one who traumatized and shattered my brother's knee caps for simply bearing same name as him.

He takes note of me and I race towards him until a body slam into me from the side.

I grab his waist as we tumble down. My hand instinctively resting on back of his head so he won't crack it as I fall right on his chest. Our groins press together and I feel his chest hammering over my palm

I hear my own heartbeats echo, heat flooding through me, I freeze.

He takes off his mask with a loud scream

"Do you have a death fucking wish?!"

Of course, it’s my enemy.

Asher blinks up at me. His hair is short and slicked back with sweat, smelling like expensive poison.

Midnight stalkings didn't prepare me for this: Up close, the guy is incredibly hot.

FOCUS TORREN!

"Get the fuck off me!" Asher thunders, shoving me down onto the ice as he stands, the Venoms and players staring at us with helmets off

"Shouldn't you be in a wheelchair?"

He questions and I pick myself up.

"Shouldn't you be in prison?"

Gasps erupt from the sidelines.

Asher's muscles are thick beneath his sleek jersey. I finally see why my twin is so afraid. He looks intimidating

Asher grabs my neck and his friends draw nearer to me.

"You're fucking talking back to me?!" He questions with shaky voice. I pull a cigarette from my pocket, light it and blow the smoke direct at him.

His jaw grinds, veins popping in his neck, looking like I just performed magic. I get lost in the dark green of his gaze for a second until Elliot's stick hit my knee,bringing me down to the ice.

Asher walks closer while Caden and Vladimir hold me down by the shoulders.

"I see you've healed ," he says, looking at my legs.

"Break them again."

Hell Fucking no.

Before they can move, I duck and shake off their grip. On my feet, I grab both Caden and Vlad by their shirts, and slam their heads together.

"Oh my God!" the crowd screams

Vlad staggers up first with bloody nose and lunges for my eyes.

I grab his hand and twist it behind his back,making him writhe in pain.

And for my brother’s sake, I twist until I hear a crack with his knees falling down the ice. Others move back.

I approach Asher and grab his neck.

"I believe you need a new Right Wing"I say

"Suck my cock," he grit aloud.

I lean closer enough to feel his breath

"Ask nicely and I might"

His mouth falls open, face flush.

Well, fuck. I let him go and skate out the rink

Bring your best shots Venoms