Puck me. I’m yours
The corner of my lips curled.
"Why won't Carter be on the ice?" Marcus grunted from behind us.
"You should be the last person to ask, or did you just happen to forget your little stunt on the ice?" Derek shot back before Hendricks could come up with a reply.
"He came into me; it was clean," Marcus half-yelled.
"Yeah... whatever helps you sleep at night, man," Derek scoffed.
"Do you have something to say, Sullivan?" Anderson quickly jumped in, exactly as expected of a favored lapdog.