Chapter 2 He likes it rough
NAVIRA
ππππ ππππππ πππππππβ¦
There were exactly three reasons I haven't committed murder yet.
One, there were cameras.
Two, prison would seriously interfere with my mission.
Three, the silicone menace currently trying to elbow me into another dimension would probably survive my attack anyway.
"Oh my God, El!" she shrieked, bouncing so hard her chest slammed into my shoulder for what had to be the eighteenth time.
I was starting to think her boobs deserved their own student ID. I smiled through gritted teeth and waved my banner higher. No one would outdo me one this space.
CALDWELL was written boldly, Pink glitter. White poster board. Two hours of arts and crafts that I'd never get back.
I'd become exactly what I never thought I'd be. Not in this life, not in the next life. A puck bunny. Cheering for hockey players, well one to be precise.
Elian Caldwell
But the thing isβ¦I'm after something entirely different than what real puck bunnies go for. Real puck bunnies screamed because they wanted Elian Caldwell's number or his cock.
I screamed because I wanted access to a secret society that apparently revolved around the six-foot-four hockey captain with the personality of a locked bank vault and his friends.
Two months. Sixty days. One thousand four hundred and forty hours. Eighty-six thousand four hundred minutes. Five million one hundred and eighty-four thousand seconds.
That's how long I've spent freezing my ass off at practices, attending every home game, pretending to understand icing or whatever the fuck the do on the ice, and wearing enough red and black to qualify as unpaid team merchandise. Even if it feels like betrayal to my favourite colour, green.
And what had I gained in return?
Absolutely nothing.
Elian Caldwell hadn't looked at me once. Not once. The man ignored women with Olympic-level dedication. I was beginning to take it personally.
"You've got this, Eli!" the silicone menace screamed directly into my ear.
I briefly wondered how difficult it would be to fake an accidental shove. Probably too difficult. Besides, I needed witnesses to believe I was just another lovesick idiot in the crowd.
Unfortunately, that required surviving the puck bunny section. I struggled to sit well in the space that felt like a tight sardine can. Of course, it's part of the routine to sit in the puck bunnies section. I had to make it real. What's the saying? Fake it till you make it.
I relaxed in the seat, releasing an exhausted breath. I was supposed to have enough info about the society by now. But I have nothing, I've officially taken the role of a stalker because that's what I've been doing, all to get Elianβs attention.
I'm starting to think I made the wrong choice with him. Maybe I'd have gone for Jaxon Cole from Whitlock since Hayes Ashford is a big no because he's a fucking dad and has a wife and the man wouldn't even bat an eye at me. I heard he's unhinged. Literally all of them who belong to that society are fucking unhinged. At least Whitlock would've made a finer choice for undercover work. The college is full of high grade elites and I bet you their puck bunny section doesn't look like this.
Whitlock university is like the twin school of St. Whitmore. But, they are totally different. One is old money while the other is new money. And this new money love to welcome a fucking crowd their school is affordable to everyone, well not exactly poor people but middle class.
Which brings me down to El, Hector and Reed. The most suitable for the job was El obviously, his twin is a troublemaking psycho I wouldn't want to be five foot near, plus he has a weird obsession with his sister. Reed Alistair, on the other hand. I'd rather fail this mission than compromise it by involving a British prince. The man has a shit personality, and is egoistic as fuck.
My lovely Elian, the quiet brick wall. Who barely speaks and looks into everyone's soul like he's got a verdict for them.
βEl is playing so well, I hope he picks me todayβ another puck bunny by the side squealed, while the crowd cheered for the goal that was just secured by El.
βBitch he never takes anyone homeβ another girl snorted.
βWell he's fucked Stephanie in the locker room onceβ the silicone menace said proudly.
βYes, it was intense. Really intense, did you see the marks on her body? She said he likes it rough and all tied upβ another girl cooed. Almost making me want to throw up.
I shift my focus from them and their fawning over El and look at the ice. Understanding nothing, but it's better to stare there than listen to this college girls fawn over a psycho. He likes it all tied up? And the marks? They don't think he needs therapeutic help. They think he needs them.
Fucking great, just great.
The sound of the horns fill the thick air signalling the end of the game as cheers erupt from my side of the seat while the opposite side stays quiet. They lost, like they always do. Because no one beats The Rogues, well maybe The Ice kings from Whitlock. But it's always a tie.
The girls beside me immediately rush over to the railings leaving me standing here alone. Of course, they rushed to go get the hockey player that'll take them as an arm candy to the post game bar, then to his bed. They're pathetic like that.
Sighing, I put on the seductive puck bunny mask back on my face, fix my short green skirt, arrange the off shoulder extra large sweat shirt I'm wearing that has βpuck bunny Xoxoβ written on it and charge forward, pushing my way through the crowd effortlessly. More like shoving people from my way.
I reach the front and see the hockey players trying to make their way back to the building, their security trying to keep people out of their reach. Some players interact with obsessed fans. The silicone menace from beside me earlier, now standing beside one player with a proud smile. Poor girl must think she's won in life because a hockey player wants to fuck her for the night.
I scan the place for El, squinting my eyes to avoid the bright lights from the arena. I see him walking right past everyone trying to talk to him, he looks soβ¦. unbothered and rather disturbed to be here. While the guy beside him seems oblivious to it and is still talking to him, or maybe he isn't so oblivious.
I know from my stalking that it's El's friend or lackey, who knows, he loves to follow him around. Bellamy, with his bright smile, shows El something that finally catches his attention.
Fuck I'm tired of doing this, tired of standing in the sidelines and cheering for him and always sticking around when he pays zero attention to me. I have no choice but to resort to my last option. It's stupid, I know but I'd rather do this and get the fucking job done than sit around.
I see an opening in the railing just a few inches from where I am. A thought comes to my mind as I smile and surge forward with all my strength. Or maybe half of it.
