Page 37 of Ice-Cold Truth

“You got a better idea?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at my teammate and friend. When he doesn’t respond, I let out a mirthless chuckle. “That’s what I thought.”

Pushing myself off the exam table, I wobble slightly as a wave of dizziness washes over me from the potent meds. Sam steadies me with a firm hand on my elbow until I regain my equilibrium.

“Take it easy there, big guy,” he cautions. “Those are some heavy-duty drugs the doc just pumped you full of.”

I shrug off his concern with a dismissive wave. “I’m good, I’m good. Just need to walk it off a bit.”

Kleiner fixes me with a stern look. “Listen close, Jack. I mean it when I say this is only a very temporary solution, you hear? You can’t keep playing on that shoulder for long without risking permanent, career-ending damage.”

His grave words hang heavy in the air, but I’ve already made peace with my decision. I’ll take the risk if it means defending a championship and my legacy.

“Understood, Doc, but we both know I don’t have any other choice right now.” I clap him on the shoulder as I move past him toward the door. “Thanks for doing what you can to keep me in the game.”

As I exit the room, Sam falls into step beside me once more. An uneasy silence stretches between us as we make our way down the empty corridor.

Finally, he breaks the tension with a weary sigh. “I hope you know what you’re doing here, man. Pushing your body too far has a way of coming back to bite you in the ass eventually.”

I shoot him a sidelong glare. “You got a problem with how I’m handling this, Masterson?”

Sam holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Hey, I’m just looking out for you, bro. As your friend and teammate.”

His words deflate my building irritation somewhat. Sam’s been there for me through some of my darkest times over the years. If anyone has earned the right to voice concern, it’s him.

Letting out a weary exhalation, “I know, and I appreciate you having my back, I really do, but you need to trust that I’ve got this under control.”

The words sound hollow even to my own ears. If I’m being completely honest with myself, I’m not sure I have anything under control anymore when it comes to this shoulder issue, but I can’t let that doubt show. Not with everything on the line—the championship, my career, and my future. I’ve come too far to let an injury derail all my dreams.

Sam seems to read the unspoken resolution in my expression. He lets out a resigned sigh, shaking his head slowly. “Whatever you say, Captain. I just hope you know what you’re doing here.”

Chapter 16: Elyse

Isit in the stands, my heart pounding as I watch Jack skate onto the ice. The roar of the crowd fills my ears, but all I can focus on is him. He looks determined, his jaw set, and his eyes narrowed in concentration. I know how much this game means to him.

As the puck drops, the players spring into action. Sticks clash against the ice, bodies collide, and the crowd cheers with every play. Jack is a force to be reckoned with, his powerful strides propelling him across the rink. He wins a faceoff, sending the puck to his teammate, who scores the first goal of the game. The Firebirds’ fans erupt in celebration, and I’m on my feet, clapping and shouting along with them.

The game continues, each team fighting for control. Jack takes a hard hit against the boards, and I wince, my breath catching in my throat. He gets back up, shaking it off, but I can see the pain etched on his face. I know his shoulder is still bothering him, even though he tries to hide it.

As the clock ticks down, the score remains tied. The tension in the arena is obvious, with everyone on the edge of their seats. Jack wins another faceoff, and this time, he takes the shot himself. The puck sails through the air, past the goalie’s outstretched glove, and into the net. The crowd goes wild, and I jump up and down, screaming his name.

The final buzzer sounds, and the Firebirds have won. The team piles onto the ice, embracing each other in celebration. I watch as Jack is engulfed by his teammates, their joy and relief evident on their faces. Pride swells in my chest, knowing how much this means to him.

As the players make their way off the ice, I head down to the locker room area to wait at the end of the hallway. I need to see him, to congratulate him on the win. I wait outside the door, shifting from foot to foot nervously.

They leave in streams or groups of two. There’s an occasional lone straggler, but Jack and Sam don’t emerge even after fifteen minutes. Taking a deep breath, I walk down the hallway to the locker room. I’m not supposed to be here, but it feels like something is wrong. Jack and Sam should have emerged from the locker room by now, but they’re nowhere to be seen. I quicken my pace.

Rounding a corner, I spot them up ahead, their broad shoulders unmistakable. Sam has his arm around Jack, supporting his weight as they slowly make their way down the corridor. Jack’s face is etched with pain.

“Jack?” I call out, rushing toward them. “What happened?”

Sam turns, his brow pinched with concern. “It’s his shoulder. The doc gave him something for the pain, but it’s pretty bad.”

I reach out, gently touching Jack’s arm. His skin is clammy, and he flinches at my touch. “We need to get you home,” I say, my voice trembling slightly.

He shakes his head, his sandy blond hair damp with sweat. “I’m fine. Just need to walk it off.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” I say, my tone laced with worry. “You’re in no condition to tough this out.”

Sam nods in agreement. “She’s right, man. Let’s get you back to the apartment.”

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