Page 56 of The Sin Bin

"Lauren, I need a massive favor," Grayson said without preamble. "We've got a situation. Animal hoarder case just got raided—forty-seven cats, twenty-eight dogs, all in various states of neglect. We're completely overwhelmed."

Lauren's stomach sank. "That's terrible. How can I help?"

"I need an experienced surgeon to handle the critical cases. I've got three dogs with severe injuries that need immediate attention, and my staff is stretched beyond capacity."

Lauren glanced at her schedule for the day. She was booked solid until closing, and tonight was Jax's big game—one she'd promised to attend.

"When do you need me?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Now, ideally. The conditions these animals were kept in..." His voice hardened. "It's bad, Lauren. Really bad."

She thought of the times she'd complained to Jax about the season's brutal schedule, the road trips, the physical toll. This was her equivalent—the emergencies that couldn't be scheduled, the animals that needed her regardless of personal plans.

"I'll be there in thirty," she promised. "Send me the case files so I can review them en route."

After hanging up, Lauren called the front desk. "Kim, I need you to reschedule my afternoon appointments. Emergency at county animal control."

"Even Mrs. Fitzgerald's poodle? She's already rescheduled twice."

"Especially her. Apologize profusely and offer a discount on her next visit."

Next, she texted Jax:Emergency at county shelter. Hoarding case. May not make first period. Will try my best.

His response came quickly:Do what you need to do. The animals need you more than I do right now.

The simple understanding in his message made her chest tighten. She started to type a thank you, then remembered about the PR opportunity.

What about the interview for the service dog program?

We'll work it out. Stay focused on those animals. They're the priority.

As she gathered her equipment, Lauren's phone rang again. This time it was Scott Greeley from the Chronicle.

"Dr. Mackenzie, glad I caught you," he said with false cheer. "I understand you'll be featured during tonight's broadcast discussing your work with the Charm City Chill and the service dog program."

Lauren's grip tightened on her phone. "How did you get this number?"

"Public record for business owners," Greeley replied smoothly. "I wanted to ask you a few questions about your personal connection to the team. Specifically, to Jackson Thompson."

"I'm not doing an interview right now," Lauren said firmly. "I'm heading to an emergency situation."

"Just a quick comment then," Greeley pressed. "Our readers would be interested to know how a veterinarian ends up dating hockey's most notorious enforcer. Especially given your professional dedication to healing. Seems like an odd match, don't you think? Him hurting people for a living, you healing animals?"

The deliberate contrast made her blood boil. "Mr. Greeley, I'm hanging up now."

"Do you ever worry about his violent tendencies?" Greeley continued, ignoring her statement. "The league has suspended him twice for fighting. The Philadelphia game could make it a third if Wilson provokes him again. Would you stand by him if—"

Lauren ended the call, her hands shaking slightly with anger. She blocked his number, then sat at her desk for a moment, trying to regain her composure.

The reporter's insinuations echoed what she'd read in those online comments—assumptions that Jax was nothing more than his enforcer role, that violence on the ice somehow defined him completely. She knew better. She'd seen his gentleness with animals, his patience, his thoughtfulness.

But Greeley's words had touched on something she'd been avoiding thinking about—what would happen if Jax did fight Wilson tonight? The league was watching him closely; another suspension seemed inevitable if he lost control.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Lauren gathered her surgical kit and headed to her car. The animals at the county shelter needed her full attention. Everything else—Jax, hockey, the media—would have to wait.

JAX

The morning skate before the Philly game carried a tension that vibrated through the barn. Every tape-to-tape pass had extra zip, every stride more purpose, every drill executed with heightened focus. Even Coach Vicky's usual barked instructions held a sharper edge as she moved players through D-zone systems.

---