Page 2 of Doc Defence

A twinge of jealousy passed over Hel. She wished her friends every happiness, but it was sometimes hard to be the single one of the trio when the other two were so deliriously in love.

Hel’s eyes snapped to the far end of the rink, where a player had taken a puck—or ice biscuit or whatever it was called—to the chest and was now lying on his back. She got to her feet for a better look, but the giant men on skates kept getting in her way, and she couldn’t see what was going on.

Mentally she ran through the contents of the medical bag sitting at her side, hoping she wouldn’t need to grab it and head out onto the ice.

She glanced down at the special shoes she wore, with little spikes on the bottom to stop her falling over and wished again that this hadn’t been a last-minute job, so she had practised in them. She had the horrible feeling it wasn’t as easy as the coaching staff made it look.

Something was definitely wrong, the player wasn’t moving. She picked up the medical bag, ready to go.

The coach went first, sprinting across the slick surface to his player. Watching him move so quickly gave her the confidence that it couldn’t be so hard after all.

Stepping to the door, her breath caught when the cold hit her. She hadn’t realised how much the screen, separating her from the ice, sheltered her from the low temperature because now she was freezing. The shivers started, and she couldn’t stop them.

“DOOCCCCCCC.” The coach’s voice bellowed, his hand frantically waving to her.

She was about to step onto the ice when he bellowed again.

“HE’S NOT BREATHING.” Panic tinged his voice.

A chill settled over Hel, which had nothing to do with the frigid temperatures in the ice rink. Her mind went into overdrive, and she spun around, dashing away from the door to snatch the portable defibrillator from where it was mounted on the wall behind the players’ bench.

Every player who wasn’t on the ice was on their feet, trying to see what was happening, but they all cleared a path for her to get to her target. Snatching the box off the wall, she threw it over her shoulder as well and ran back to the door.

She stepped onto the ice, and despite the spikes, her feet immediately went out from under her, and she smashed down, landing hard on her bottom and hitting the back of her head on the slippery floor.

For a moment, everything went black, then the arena lights overhead dazzled her eyes. Winded and dazed, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to stand up again.

After a moment, she recalled why she had stepped onto the ice and struggled to get upright, wincing when the cold bit into her fingers as she pushed her palms down on the frozen surface.

“Shit,” she cursed when a chunk of ice sliced into her palm. Glancing down at her hand, she saw it had drawn blood.

Finishing the struggle to her feet, she reached into her pocket and pulled out some surgical gloves, putting one over the hand with the cut. She didn’t have time to deal with that now, she could see them doing chest compressions on the fallen player.

This time, she moved carefully, not wanting to risk falling again.

Her progress was painfully slow, not helped by the fact the blow to her head had left her slightly dizzy and her ears ringing.

Hel kept going, keeping her gaze fixed on where she needed to be.

Her eyes widened in surprise when one of the players broke off from the group and came skating at full speed towards her. She barely managed to stop herself screaming when the giant on skates, who looked close to seven feet tall—which was huge even when you were five foot eight—skidded to a halt so close to her that her hair blew in the breeze he created.

“Doc,” he said, nodding to her.

She tried to figure out which player it was but didn’t have time before he swept her up into his arms. One hand circled her waist, and the other was under her legs as he clutched her to his chest. Their gazes met for a brief second, and she caught her breath when his green eyes locked on hers.

“What?” Hel didn’t have time to form a full thought before he looked away from her and was moving across the ice at what seemed like a million kilometres an hour.

They reached the fallen player in seconds, and she was deposited right next to them. For a moment, she felt sad when the strong arms put her down. She dismissed the errant thought and dropped to her knees on the ice next to her patient, not noticing when water soaked through her jeans and the cold bit into her skin.

CHAPTER 2

FROST

Frosthuddledwithhisteammates, staring down with concern at Aiden, who lay so still on the ice, as he was assessed by Coach Morgan.

“Fuck,” Coach Morgan swore loudly. His fingers were at Aiden’s neck, and his ear hovered over his mouth, listening for breaths. “Come on, come on,” he muttered. Then he cursed again. “Fuck.”

“Coach?” Frost asked, concern clouding his voice.

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