Page 48 of Rule Breaker

Maddox hesitated for a moment and then lifted his right arm. I hoisted him up, but with all his gear, it was awkward. He shook his head, continuing to swear up a storm.

When I looked around, the fight was breaking up, refs and coaches were on the ice, but everyone was still yelling. What a fucking disaster.

“I’m fine,” Maddox snapped and pulled his arm away. “I got hit hard, but I’m okay. It’s over. Get lost.”

No way was I leaving him alone. He didn’t look okay at all. In fact, I thought he might puke and suggested he take his mask off.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he bit out.

Then he shoved his mask off his face, his skin sweaty and pale, almost grey. He was breathing fast and hard. Was it the adrenaline or was he hyperventilating?

“You don’t look good. Get to the box, and have Johnston check you out,” I demanded.

“I know what to do, alright? I don’t need you or anyone else helping me!” he snarled and skated away.

“You’re welcome!” I yelled out.

I rested my hands on my thighs and shook my head. There were helmets and sticks lying on the ice. There was blood, too. Fuck, I hoped like hell we weren’t all going to get suspended for the rest of the season. There’d go our hockey careers…

A ref yelled about a five-minute major and game disqualification. That better be Reswell he was talking about.

I watched Maddox skate away. He made it as far as the boards and bent over, throwing up. Shit, did he hit his head? A concussion? Since the coaches were still arguing with the refs, I followed Maddox, not caring if he’d yell at me again. No matter what he said, he was obviouslynotokay.

The medic, Johnston, stepped forward and guided Maddox off the ice and into the gallery. Without thinking, I followed them.

“Is he all right?” I asked Johnston.

“I’m right fucking here,” Maddox hissed. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not a doctor,” I bit back and looked expectantly at Johnston.

“I need to check him over,” Johnston replied, then motioned for Maddox to sit on one of the benches. “Did you hit your head? Any dizziness?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know. It happened so fast,” Maddox replied. He was still shaking. “One of the guys slammed into me, I hit the net, and that’s all I remember.”

Johnston took out a small penlight and checked Maddox’s eyes and asked him question after question.

“Are we done here? I’m fine. I threw up. I feel better.”

Maddox didn’t look better. He was trembling. Still pale. Still breathing fast.

Johnston looked at me. “You better get back out there.”

Reluctantly, I nodded.

“Is he out for the rest of the game?” I asked.

“Hey!” Maddox bit out. “‘He’ is right here. And I’m fine to go back and play. I’m good.”

Johnston raised one eyebrow at me. Maddox bent forward again, his head between his knees. The medic looked at me and mouthed ‘No.’

“Sorry, Maddox, but the answer is no,” Johnston announced. “We should get you to the hospital.”

“No way!”

“Johnston!” Coach called out. I turned to find him jogging towards us. “What’s going on?”

“I think Maddox may have a concussion. He was hit pretty hard, threw up, and he’s still shaky.”

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