Page 102 of The Last Inch Of Ice
Kai throws up twice before warm-ups.
On the ice, he can’t look at Nazar. Can’t meet his eyes during the national anthem. Can’t acknowledge the way Nazar’s gaze follows him during warm-ups, questioning and intense.
The game is vicious. Chippy. Both teams playing angry, physical hockey that teeters on the edge of acceptable. The refs are letting them play, which means everyone’s taking liberties.
Second period. Kai has the puck along the boards, trying to chip it past a Comets defenseman.
He doesn’t see the hit coming until it’s too late.
The impact is massive. A hit from behind that sends him careening face-first into the boards.
His teeth jar together. His shoulder screams.
The world whites out for a second, pain and shock overwhelming his nervous system.
When his vision clears, he’s on his hands and knees on the ice. Blood in his mouth. His shoulder is on fire.
Then he hears it.
A roar. Primal. Inhuman. The sound of something breaking.
He pushes himself up, his head swimming, and sees chaos erupting behind him.
Nazar has dropped his gloves. Has thrown himself at his fucking own teammate, the defenseman who hit Kai. They’re on the ice in a tangle of limbs, Nazar’s fists connecting with solid, meaty thuds.
“Rykov! What the fuck!” Someone’s screaming. Multiple teammates trying to pull him off.
Kai feels like he’s hallucinating. This can’t be real. Nazar Rykov — disciplined, controlled Nazar who never takes stupid penalties — is fighting his own teammate.
The refs intervene. Whistles shrieking. Nazar is hauled to his feet by three different players, his face twisted with protective fury that Kai has never seen before.
Their eyes meet across the ice. Just for a second.
Nazar’s expression shifts from rage to concern so quickly it’s like watching someone change channels. His mouth moves, forming words Kai can’t hear:You okay?
Kai looks away first. Has to. Can’t bear the weight of that care.
The medical staff is at his side, asking questions he answers automatically. Checking his pupils. Testing his shoulder mobility. He waves them off. Nothing broken, just pain he can skate through.
But he’s not feeling the pain in his shoulder. He’s in the grip of a full-blown panic attack, the arena air turning thin and sharp in his lungs.
Nazar just assaulted his own teammate. On national television. He’ll be suspended. Fined. His reputation as a disciplined player, destroyed. All because of Kai.
All because Kai couldn’t protect him from this. From himself.
Later, in the quiet of his hotel room, the messages start coming in.
Nazar:text me that you’re okay
Nazar:they say you weren’t taken to hospital
Nazar:is it your shoulder again? same one from before?
Nazar:you were steady on your feet after you got up. that’s good. but tell me
Nazar:Kai
Nazar:please
