Page 101 of The Sin Bin

Jax sat on the edge of the table, his bare torso mapped with fading bruises as Dr. Rivera carefully examined his orbital fracture. The team physician's expression gave nothing away as he manipulated the specialized light, studying the injury from multiple angles.

"The swelling has decreased significantly," Dr. Rivera noted, making a mark on his tablet. "And the fracture line appears to be stabilizing well. Better than expected, actually."

Hope flickered in Jax's chest, though he kept his expression neutral. Behind Dr. Rivera, Coach Vicky leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her face equally unreadable.

"So I can play?" Jax asked, cutting to the chase.

Dr. Rivera exchanged a glance with his colleague, Dr. Patel, who had been reviewing Jax's concussion protocol results.

"Medically speaking," Dr. Rivera began carefully, "the orbital fracture has shown remarkable improvement. With a properly fitted full face shield, it would be physically possible for you to play."

Jax caught the precise wording. "But you don't recommend it."

"No," Dr. Rivera confirmed. "I don't. The fracture is still acute, and while the bone is stabilizing, it's millimeters from your eye. Another significant impact could cause displacement that might compromise your vision."

"And the concussion?" Coach Vicky asked, speaking for the first time.

Dr. Patel stepped forward. "All cognitive tests are within normal parameters. No lingering symptoms of photosensitivity, no reported headaches for the past thirty-six hours." She paused. "However, with your history of previous concussions, we would typically recommend at least another week of non-contact activity."

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken implications. Jax glanced at Coach Vicky, who maintained her neutral expression.

"Bottom line," Jax said, looking between the two doctors. "Can I play tonight? Not should I—can I?"

Dr. Rivera sighed. "With a properly fitted face shield, adequately taped ribs, and the understanding that you'd be assuming significant risk of further injury? Yes, you could physically play."

"But we're strongly advising against it," Dr. Patel added firmly.

Coach Vicky finally pushed off from the wall. "Thank you for your thorough assessment, doctors. I'd like a moment with Thompson."

The physicians nodded, exiting with clipboard notes that would officially document their professional advice—advice Jax was already certain he wouldn't follow.

When the door closed, Coach Vicky's posture remained rigid. "You heard them."

"I did."

"And?"

Jax met her gaze directly. "I'm playing."

Vicky studied him for a long moment, then nodded once. "I figured as much. But I needed to hear you say it." She pulled up a chair, sitting at eye level with him. "This isn't like taping an ankle or playing through a bruised shoulder, Thompson. This is your eye. Your brain."

"I know."

"Do you?" Her voice sharpened. "Because once you're on that ice, Philly's going to target you. You know that, right? First shift, Wilson and his goons will be hunting you."

"Let them try," Jax replied, a familiar cold focus settling over him. "I've handled Wilson before."

"How's Lauren feel about this decision?"

The question landed like a body check—unexpected and jarring. Jax broke eye contact, glancing at his phone. Five missed calls to Lauren, all unanswered.

"She doesn't know yet," he admitted. "She was in emergency surgery all morning."

"And if she did know?" Vicky pressed.

"She wouldn't approve," Jax said flatly. "She made that clear last night."

Vicky nodded, unsurprised. "Relationships and hockey. Always complicated." She stood, retrieving her clipboard. "Get fitted for the shield. Report to physiotherapy for rib taping. Team meeting at four."

---