Page 39 of Ice-Cold Truth

I motion for her to continue, my anger dissipating as quickly as it had arisen. She takes a deep breath before launching into the details of her findings.

“I met with Dr. Kleiner. He confirmed the rumors about Coach Matthews pressuring players to play through injuries and hiding medical issues from the public. Kleiner said Matthews has threatened him and others to stay quiet.”

My stomach churns at her words, memories of the coach’s intimidation tactics resurfacing. Elyse isn’t done yet.

“Then I spoke to Vince Halstrom, the former Firebird who’s suing Matthews. Vince told me Matthews forced him onto the ice with a serious knee injury that ultimately ended his career when it couldn’t be repaired through surgery.” Her tone softens. “He told me Sam gave him the original injury, so I understand why you and he were so defensive now.”

“Sam didn’t mean to injure him.”

Her tone is soothing. “I know, and so does Vince, which is why Sam isn’t mentioned in the lawsuit. His role might come out in the deposition, but he’s not in trouble. He’s not the one who denied Vince the medical care he needed. Vince wants to expose Matthews’ practices and get fair compensation for his life being altered.”

My head is spinning as I process everything she’s revealed. On one hand, taking down Matthews could mean finally getting the medical treatment I desperately need, but it could also jeopardize the Firebirds’ championship defense this season—something I’ve sacrificed so much for.

I meet her eyes. “You’re asking me to choose between my health and my career. My life’s work.”

She reaches out, taking my hand in hers. “I’m asking you to choose yourself, Jack. Don’t let Matthews control you any longer.”

Her touch is reassuring. For so long, I’ve felt utterly alone in this battle, but maybe I don’t have to shoulder the burden alone anymore.

I squeeze her hand, steadying my resolve. “Tell me everything, Elyse. I need to know what we’re up against if we take on Matthews.”

Elyse nods, her eyes shining with determination. “When I met with Vince, he didn’t hold back. He wanted me to understand the full extent of what Coach Matthews put him through.”

She takes a deep breath before launching into the retelling. “He looked…haunted, Jack. The man before me was a shell of the athlete he once was.”

Elyse pauses, her brow creasing slightly as she recalls the encounter. “He was on the verge of tears when he told me they’d made it to the finals, but his knee finally gave out during the third period of game six.”

I wince, remembering the horrible popping sound even now. We’d rushed to Vince’s aid as soon as the ref called for a time out, but he hadn’t been able to walk off the ice that day.

Elyse continues, “The doctors said with proper treatment after the initial injury, Vince might have been able to recover through surgery and rehab, but because of Matthews’ negligence, he’ll never play again, or even walk without a cane. He stole your teammate’s dream and life’s work, and he should pay for that, Jack.”

I nod, feeling devastated for Vince and scared, because that could easily be my fate if I continue ignoring my injury.

Her gaze bores into mine with fierce intensity. “We can’t let Matthews continue to ruin lives like he did Vince’s. It has to stop.”

I nod. Every instinct tells me to protect Elyse from getting any deeper into this dangerous situation, but I can’t ignore the truthany longer—Matthews is a menace, who needs to be stopped at all costs.

Pulling her into my arms, I hold her close, drawing strength from her. “You’re right. It’s time to take Matthews down. I’m with you. All the way.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Let’s get you more comfortable.” She stands up before helping me stand. Then Elyse gently guides me to the bedroom, her touch soft yet insistent. “You need to rest that shoulder, Jack.” I open my mouth to protest, but she silences me with a look. “Don’t argue with me. You’re in pain, and you need to take care of yourself for once.”

Resigned, I allow her to help me onto the bed, propping pillows behind my back. She disappears briefly, returning with a glass of water. “Drink this. You need to stay hydrated.”

“I wouldn’t mind a couple of ibuprofen,” I say. She shakes her head. “It sounds like you’re already swimming in a cocktail of NSAIDs. I don’t think you should have more after that shot without checking with Dr. Kleiner.”

I groan, not up for that tonight. “Fine. I’ll stick with ice and hydrating.”

“You need to eat too. Protein is good for recovering from an injury. What would you like?” she asks, smoothing the covers over my lap. “I can whip up something light, or we can order in if you’d prefer.”

The thought of food is unappealing right now, my stomach still twisted from the emotional upheaval of the past few hours, but I know better than to refuse Elyse’s care.

“Whatever you think is best,” I say, reaching out to take her hand. “Just…stay with me?”

She squeezes my fingers, offering a warm smile. “Of course. Let me grab us some snacks, and I’ll be right back.”

True to her word, she returns shortly with a plate of crackers, cheese, and grapes—simple fare, but the sight of it makes mymouth water. She settles onto the bed beside me, close enough that our shoulders brush.

We eat in comfortable silence for a while. Eventually, I turn to face her, my good arm sliding around her waist. “Thank you, Elyse,” I murmur, drawing her near. “For everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

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