Preston is straddling the chest of a guy in a red jersey, punching him in the face with his bare hands. "What the fuck?" Blood is pouring down my face, making it hard to see, but I start for him. I’m stopped by someone grabbing my arm. Spinning around with my fist raised, I drop it when I see Paul. "Come on, you're done. Gotta go see medical." He pulls me along like I'm going to argue. He's right, I am going to. "It's a fucking cut, I'm fine!" I pull out of his grasp and catch movement to my right. A few players are trying to pull Preston off the player on the ice but he’s fighting them off
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