Puck Kills Subaru Novels & Stories

His beautiful, carbon-fiber stick, the one he'd used for every game this season, the one his mother had given him for his twenty-fifth birthday—splintering against Sebastian's shin guard. Shards of composite material spun through the air like frozen confetti. The puck, knocked loose by the hit, slid past the defenseman's desperate dive. Past the goalie's outstretched glove. Over the goal line in a slow, mocking arc. Tie game. Three seconds left. The buzzer for regulation sounded before Damian hit the ice.

I quickly glance at him to see he is gritting his teeth so tight, he probably broke a molar, “You didn’t go out with Chris, you went to get a car, and why would I do that?” “You are familiar with punishing a sub and all of the rest that follows right?” “Punishing a sub?” I quirk a brow, keeping my eyes on the road, it was a small town with majority of its occupants at the picnic, but I was still getting used to this car, it resembled the other one, but the other one sure dusts this one in many aspects.

The heavy V8 engine roared, a guttural, mechanical scream that drowned out the wind. We didn't swerve. Enzo drove straight at the "V" of the pickup trucks. CRUNCH. The armored bumper hit the rear quarter-panel of the lead truck with the force of a wrecking ball. I was thrown forward against the seatbelt, the nylon webbing cutting into my shoulder as the four-ton SUV forced its way through the gap. Metal shrieked against metal. Glass showered the hood like diamonds. We burst through the blockade, the Suburban fishtailing for a terrifying second before the tires found purchase on the gravel shoulder.

I reached the puck, settled it on my blade, and looked up. The net was wide open. Just then, I spotted Ryder coming at me from the flank. It was now or never. Not giving him the opportunity to intercept me, I channeled every ounce of my frustration, my fear, and my strange, twisted fascination with this man into my arms. I wound up for a slap shot, a powerhouse move that usually left goalies shaking. I swung. *CRACK.* The sound echoed through the entire arena, louder than the crowd, louder than the buzzer. My stick didn't hit the puck. Ryder’s body hit me at the exact moment of impact. The carbon fiber shaft snapped in two, the top half flying into the air.

Catherine, recovering her composure, leaned out the window, firing precise shots from a prototype sonic pistol, the high-frequency blasts causing the pursuing drivers to swerve wildly as their eardrums screamed in protest. Marcus, acting as rear gunner, discovered a hidden compartment under the seat filled with chilled champagne. He began popping the corks and firing them like mortars at the pursuing vehicles with surprising accuracy. One cork hit a driver squarely in the forehead, causing his car to swerve and crash into a fountain depicting a water nymph. “This is the most unprofessional operation I have ever been a part of!” Marcus bellowed, a wide, manic grin on his face as he took aim w

He managed to get into the car. Creature: Try... So, he tried to swerve, whatever. Policeman: I'm going to kill him. A series of shots began in the darkness... Hikary: I'm going to kill him. Creature 2: Try your luck. The car was used to smash one of the creatures into a wall. Tsuki: He didn't... When another creature charged and cornered a car. Hikary: You can't... Gunshot sounds, when they were laughing...

I smiled at Mary, the beautiful and happily mated vampire receptionist, my eyes communicating with hers to see how deeply fucked I was. The subtle shake of her head told me all there was to know. And that was that Mary had no idea what was about to go down. Shit. My mother had always warned me about my mouth getting me in trouble. And now here I was. Sir Max knocked solemnly on the door marked Richard Drebeille~HOA and my palms became clammy. What if I had pushed my luck too far this time? There was a subtle 'come in' from the other side of the door and I caught Sir Max's smirk and the flash of his fangs as he opened the door for me.

He nodded starting the car "Got it, we will stop by the pharmacy." Did I forget to mention Tucker was rich, rich? But apparently Reuben was even richer because he pettily drove his sports car right past us splashing a bit of mud. I don't know how he was keeping track of Tucker's car, but he was being very petty. "Oh that son-of-ah...I'm gonna kill him!" Tucker barked about to park the car but I placed my hand on his arm to calm him down. "Relax, he is not worth it." I assured him.

Detective Park repeated his word and by then I finally realize that I just saw earlier is real. *** "Where the f*ck are they?" Luca keep cursing inside the Porsche car as Jonathan accidentally brought the wrong car instead of bringing the white Audi, which is Luca's favorite car. "Do you know what's going around already?" "I'm sorry boss, but I already called Aurora to send two more men with the same car," Jonathan couldn't be more sad and sorry to his boss after receiving a heart breaking scold from his boss for the first the third time. He keeps promising to get back and makes his boss happy but he keeps failing over and over again. "Don't worry boss, they're already on their way."

“No tracking here yet. But satellites, heat-seeking drones, license-plate readers—they have maybe forty minutes before they close in.” We left the Rover in a gravel lot behind a closed clam shack, sign creaking in the wind. The front was smashed from the gate, paint scratched to metal—it would blend with the old cars left by tourists. R pushed it into loose sand, tossed the keys under the mat. Two rows over, he swapped our plates with a rusty Subaru—New Jersey tags, expired sticker. Nothing to notice.