Page 19 of Heart of a Fighter

Lauren

I watch the game unfold from the sidelines with the rest of the medical team. My heart races with every pass and hit, but my focus is split between Zach and Granger. When Zach’s shoved to the ground and his helmet flies across the ice, the team and I are on our feet. The adrenaline pulsing through my veins is nothing compared to watching my brother’s head hit the cold, hard ice.

A blur flashes before me, briefly blocking my view of Zach. I catch motion from the corner of my eye and realize it’s Granger, speeding on a collision course with Zach. I’m horrified, considering their previous altercation at practice. Granger narrowly misses Zach as he slams into Mark, the Predators’ center.

Granger and Mark go down in a tangle, fists flying. My stomach twists in knots, helpless to stop the madness. Disappointment curdles in my gut, making me sick to my stomach. Nothing makes sense. Mark dogged Zach the entire game, but it was another player's hit that caused Zach to take a fall. Granger’s aggression is senseless and out of control.

Pandemonium breaks out as players rush the ice to pull Granger and Mark apart. The medical staff and I rush to Zach’s side, stabilizing him for a better look at his head. Though there’s no blood, he could be concussed.

“Zach, can you hear me?” I yell as Dr. Evans calls for a neck brace.

“Yeah,” he groans. He blinks, visibly stunned. “What happened?”

“That doesn’t matter right now. Lie still, Zach,” Dr. Evans says calmly while an assistant places the cuff on his neck. “We need to check you out.”

Dr. Evans goes through a series of protocol checks, looking for signs of concussion, head and eye injuries, and anything potentially life-threatening. I wait by Zach's side, holding his hand as refs and team members drag Granger and Mark apart.

A ref blows a whistle and signals that Granger’s out of the game. I catch his eye as he’s led away. Frustration and anger etch across his face as he jerks his restrained arms. The crowd noise grows louder, filling the arena with boos and jeers. I force myself to focus on doing my job, but I’m struggling to understand why Granger would jeopardize Zach, the game, and his reputation with his reckless behavior.

We get Zach to his feet, and though he’s a bit dazed, he signals to the crowd that he’s okay. They cheer wildly, whistling and chanting his name. As soon as we’re into the tunnel and out of the crowd’s sight, Dr. Evans gets Zach on a waiting stretcher. We skip the locker room and head straight to an ambulance where Mom’s already waiting.

“Your son is going to be just fine, Ms. Brooks. We’re taking him to the hospital as a precaution,” Dr. Evans assures Mom. “You can ride with him if you’d like.”

“Yes, please.” Mom’s hand trembles as she takes mine, handing me her keys. There’s a risk of serious injury with any game, but it’s never hit so close to home as now. “Follow in the car?”

“He’s in good hands. I promise.” I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’ve got to tie up a couple of loose ends here first. I’ll meet you at the hospital soon.”

As soon as the ambulance doors close and it pulls away from the building, I head to the locker room, hoping to find Granger. I need to understand what happened. No matter their disagreement, Granger wouldn’t turn on Zach like that. He couldn’t, especially if he cared about me.

I hurry down the long hall toward the locker room but stop midstep when Granger’s father rounds the corner. The grimace on his face isn’t a good sign. My heart sinks, anticipating bad news.

“Miss Brooks. A word,” he says without a hint of emotion in his voice. “Consider this your termination. Your services are no longer necessary here.”

I stare blankly, trying to process his words. The thought of leaving the team, not finishing what I started, and risking a huge red strike on my transcript is soul-crushing.

“But, I–”

“Dr. Evans will give you a recommendation despite your disregard for our organization’s regulations,” he says, cutting me off.

“Thank you,” I manage to say, my head swirling with the repercussions of everything–the tension, the conflicts. It’s all too much. “I appreciate you telling me personally.”

He barely acknowledges me and walks away, leaving me silently wallowing in a pit of frustration and confusion. As if this night couldn’t get any worse.

I grab the few things I have from a locker in the medical office and leave as players begin filtering down the hall, not a celebratory face on the lot of them. A few players stop me on my way out, sending their best to Zach.

By the time I reach the hospital, Zach’s been scanned, poked, and prodded to the point of irritation. But at least his prognosis is good––no concussion. Dr. Evans will keep a close eye on him for the foreseeable future, and no broken bones. His ego isn’t doing so well, though.

“Any news on Granger?” Zach asks as soon as the doctors leave the room.

I frown and shake my head, still unable to wrap my head around what Granger must have been thinking. “Do you remember anything? See anything before the fight broke out?”

“A sharp pain at the back of my head and a flash of something shiny, like a light or metallic reflection.” Zach struggles to recount those few seconds after he went down. “Ice spray and then a blur of red and blue.”

“When Granger tackled Mark,” Madison frowns.

Madison and Mark have a history together, which is why there’s a huge rift between them. Mark mouthed off one too many times, degrading Madison, and Zach took matters into his own hands to defend her.

“Something doesn’t sit well with me about all of this,” I say. “I can’t believe Granger would behave this way. He’s got a quick temper, but when he acts on it, there’s usually a reason. Something happened out there.”

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