Kane’s POV
I shove my way back into the locker room, glaring at Foulton, who has the good sense to avoid eye contact. I want to beat the little pr.ick into a hockey puck and slap him around the rink right now.
I head over to my locker, chucking the envelope that Brandy gave me into the top of my locker and slamming it shut, before stripping out of the remainder of my hockey gear and grabbing my towel to head toward the showers. No one tries to stop me, the younger guys actively stepping out of my way so I can get past them, which is a good call because right now, I could give Dalton a run for his money in a brawl.
Hanging up my towel, I step into one of the cubicles, starting the water before leaning my head forward, allowing the freezing cold water to run over my hair and down my back.
