Page 81 of The Sin Bin

"Already cleared it with medical." Stephanie's smile was pleasant but unyielding. "Your Q scores are up 43% since the service dog program launched."

She sounded like just like Marcus.

"We need to capitalize on this momentum—show the gentle giant side of Jax Thompson. The league office is still watching, you know."

The league office needed to get off his ass.

"Fine," he said again. "Tuesday afternoon."

"Perfect." Stephanie's smile widened. "And Thompson? For Philly tomorrow—keep it clean. We're building something with your image here. Don't derail it by going caveman on Wilson."

She was halfway down the hall before Jax could respond.

"Thompson," Coach Vicky's voice called from the opposite direction. She jerked her head toward her office, and Jax followed, ribs protesting with each step.

Vicky shut the door behind them. "Just had Stephanie in here about tomorrow's game," she said, dropping into her chair. "I told her you'll play your game, not hers."

Jax stayed standing, confused by the conflicting messages. "So what exactly do you want from me tomorrow?"

Vicky leaned forward, elbows on her desk. "If Wilson crosses the line, I need you to respond. Not with stupid penalties, but with the message that actions have consequences. I can't have him pulling his shit for seven games."

"Four," Jax said. "Just like Montreal."

"I don't want it even in game one."

"Stephanie just told me to keep it clean. Build my image."

"Stephanie's job is PR. My job is winning hockey games and protecting this team." Vicky's gaze hardened. "Sometimes that means bringing the lumber, Thompson. Just be smart about when and how."

"So play physical but clean, unless Wilson does something dirty, then respond but don't take penalties?" Jax couldn't keep the edge from his voice. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Vicky said, unfazed by his tone. "Ice those fucking ribs before you leave. You're favoring your left side, and Philly's video coach will spot it in about five seconds."

"The whole damn league knows about my ribs," Jax said. "Wilson will target them regardless."

"Which is exactly why I need you at one hundred percent." Vicky's expression softened slightly. "Look, I know this series is going to be a war. Wilson's got a personal vendetta against you since that hit last season."

Jax remembered. Wilson had taken a run at Dmitri, and Jax had stepped in. The resulting fight had left Wilson with a broken orbital bone and a grudge that ran deeper than hockey.

"This isn't just about standings anymore," Vicky continued. "Philly's built their identity around intimidation. If we let them set the tone in Game 1, we'll be playing catchup the entire series. The team needs you to be the wall—especially with home ice advantage on the line."

The pressure of her words settled on Jax's shoulders. This wasn't just another game—it was the pivot point for their entire playoff run. How he handled Wilson tomorrow would set the course for everything that followed.

"I'll be ready," he promised.

In the locker room, his phone showed a text from Lauren:Breakfast meeting ran long. Still up for lunch between your practice and my afternoon clinic?

With all the conflicting demands pulling at him—play tough but clean, protect teammates but stay out of the box, be an enforcer but fix your image—Lauren's straightforward desire to see him felt like solid ground.

Definitely, he replied.Meet at Carlo's in 30?

Her confirmation came quickly, with an addition:Perfect. Ice those ribs before you leave.

"Someone's looking cheerful," Kane observed, dropping onto the bench beside him. "Let me guess—lunch plans with the doc?"

"Your observational skills are remarkable," Jax replied dryly, though without real irritation.

Kane grinned. "Team dinner tomorrow after Philly—Lauren should come."

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