Page 55 of The Price of Ice

It was just words, but he jerked so hard he fell off the sofa, dragging Levy down with him in his hopeless tumble. With the dead weight of his legs, he had no hope of much except protecting his head. Levy curled up around him instead of letting go, wrapping his own body over Kallen’s as a shield.

And then, like the hero he was, he groaned from where he ended up squished against the coffee table. “Ouch.”

“You okay?” Turning his head wasn’t the best decision he'd ever made, sending a twinge of pain up his neck.

Levy groaned, shifting to try and get them both upright. “Been better,” he admitted. “Sorry.”

Kallen reached for the arm of the sofa, pulling as he pushed. “It’s fine, just... help me up?”

IF HE’D BEEN HOPINGfor a miracle, he’d have been very disappointed the next morning when he woke up exactly as paralysed as he’d been when he’d gone to sleep.

But he’d already known he hadn’t done enough. He couldn’t evenseeenough from where he was stuck. Levy had asked for his permission to talk to Management, and Kallen had shrugged his agreement. He couldn’t have done it himself, looked any of them in the face in his current state and asked for something.

Especially protection.

Especially when Maslow would have already told them his diagnosis: that Kallen was doing this to himself by being a coward.

It wasn’t even untrue. Hewasafraid.

Whatever his captain had done to him, it was up to Kallen to get over it and get back on the ice.

He’d done it before, pushed until his body had got on with the program.

But he couldn’t do it now. No matter how much he tried, his legs were bent on ignoring him.

And that’s why there was now a nurse offering him a hand to shake.

“Brad Lersky.”

They’d given him a key since Levy had had to leave for the game. Was it better to be missing it altogether than to be there as a deadweight to his team? he wondered.

Brad was maybe a little older than him, an omega big enough to do what he needed to help; namely cart Kallen around the flat. He was so blond his skin was nearly translucent, veins showing clearly on his wrist, but he shook with easy strength. And there was nothing delicate about his question, “Not been long, has it?”

Kallen frowned at him. “You don’t have my file?”

“Sure,” Brad said. “But that’s a piece of paper.”

“It’s been three days, so no, I’m not over it,” he said with too much anger behind it. He regretted it instantly. “Sorry.”

“That’s alright,” Brad replied without losing his easy smile. “I figured, and angry is better than depressed.”

Kallen snorted. He supposed it was, at that. Though he was headed right down that hole and he knew it. After so many years of making hockey the centre of his life, not playing was already bad enough, but this wasn’t like a holiday with his family, or an injury with a timeframe he count on, with a diet to follow and a PT coming right up to get himself back in shape.

And he had barely anythingelseto do.

Except maybe call his mother and tell her what had happened to him.

He couldn’t imagine anything worse. If his dad found out he couldn’t play— He shoved the thought away. That was beyond his control, but this wasn’t.

“I want to do exercises,” he told Brad, hoping for firm. After all, the guy was technically his employee, wasn’t he?

The nearly invisible eyebrows rose at his words. “Sure, man. Let’s get the shower out of the way first, though. I’m gonna go grab the chair.”

The chair was, of course, a wheelchair, and Kallen’s stomach fell off a cliff at the sight of it.

Brad just stood there, waiting, and his patience was more than Kallen could bear. He had to do this, so he would, but he didn’t need to linger on it. “How?” he asked, too curt, but Brad just brought the chair over to the bed and kicked the brakes on. “Let’s get your legs over to the side and then I’ll help you twist into it.”

Even though he’d spoken in the plural, all Kallen could contribute was to keep his hands behind himself so he didn’t flop right onto his back. It was hard because he wanted to flop, but years of working through pain and exhaustion kicked in and hekept his abs clenched tight as Brad took him by the back of the thighs and got his legs over the edge of the mattress.

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