Page 98 of The Sin Bin

"No, Coach," Jax admitted, glancing at the now-dark television. "Just about to eat."

"Turn it on," Vicky directed, her tone carrying unusual tension. "Sportsnet. You need to see this."

Lauren reached for the remote, her movements sharp with lingering frustration as she located the channel. The pre-game show materialized on screen—analysts breaking down tomorrow's Game 3 matchups.

Wilson's face filled the screen, a smirk playing at his lips. "It's unfortunate that certain players can't maintain their composure away from the rink," he was saying. "We're looking forward to a different outcome in Game 3. When key pieces are missing from their defense, our offense has more... opportunities."

"What a piece of work," Jax muttered, rage simmering beneath his ribs.

"There's more," Vicky said grimly.

The segment continued with Wilson discussing their defensive pairings. "We've seen what happens when Thompson isn't available to protect their zone," he said with barely disguised glee. "Game two would've gone very differently if we'd capitalized on our chances in the third. We won't miss those opportunities again."

"Bastard's practically announcing their game plan," Vicky growled. "Target our defensive zone coverage and exploit Thompson's absence."

"They won't have that chance," Jax said, decision crystallizing. "I'll be there."

Silence hung on the line for a moment. "Medical hasn't cleared you," Vicky reminded him, though her tone lacked conviction.

"They will," Jax replied with certainty. "I'll pass whatever tests they put in front of me."

"Your call, Thompson," Vicky said finally. "But don't do anything stupid. We need you for the whole run, not just game three."

After disconnecting, silence settled heavily in the apartment. Lauren hadn't spoken during the call, but her expression had hardened, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Lauren," Jax began, knowing they needed to address the obvious implications.

"Don't," she cut him off, her voice tight. "Don't tell me you're not already planning to play tomorrow, no matter what the doctors say."

The accusation—accurate though it was—ignited a defensive spark in Jax's chest. "That's not fair. I haven't even been evaluated yet."

"And if they say you shouldn't play? That another hit could cause permanent damage?" Lauren challenged. "Will you accept that?"

Before Jax could form a response, his phone chimed with an email from Stephanie in PR:Media Advisory: Service Dog Program Investigation. Jax scanned its contents with increasing disbelief.

Team Management has been notified by animal control authorities that complaints have been filed regarding the service dogs' presence at Charm City Arena. The complainant (identity confidential) alleges insufficient training certification and improper handling protocols, demanding immediate suspension of the program pending investigation. Legal is addressing but media has this. Preparing official response. Will keep you and Dr. Mackenzie updated.

Jax handed the phone to Lauren wordlessly, watching as she read the email.

"This is absurd," Lauren said, color draining from her face.

"This is dirty tactics," Jax said. "Philly fans getting desperate."

"They're targeting the dogs now? Charlie, who's helped Oliver manage anxiety attacks? The service program that's providing valuable training for animals helping people with actual disabilities? That's beyond hockey rivalry into genuinely malicious territory."

The protective rage in her voice matched Jax's own internal response—violation of acceptable boundaries, movement from professional disagreement to personal attack.

"What are we going to do?"

"That settles it," Jax said quietly, a strange calm settling over him as clarity emerged from chaos.

"Don't give up," Lauren urged, misinterpreting his tone.

"I'm not giving up," Jax replied, meeting her gaze with newfound resolve. "Just the opposite."

Lauren looked at him blankly for a moment before understanding dawned in her eyes. "No." She was already shaking her head. "No, Jax, you can't—"

"I'm playing tomorrow," he stated flatly, decision crystallized with absolute certainty. "I'm going in and ending Wilson once and for all."

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