Page 21 of Doc Defence

Hel touched Rocky’s elbow, and a wash of jealous heat spread over him. Frost nearly stood up but stopped himself. What on earth was he thinking? He had met her twice, and she was touching Rocky’s elbow. And even if it wasn’t just his elbow, it was absolutely none of his concern. And that was the problem, he was concerned. He wanted to be the one talking to her, he wanted to be the one having his arm examined.

Putting his head down in his hands, he raked his fingers through his hair. What was wrong with him? He had a girlfriend until he broke up with her. He needed to stop staring at Hel.

Frost made a concerted effort to get his head back into the game, running through plays and calming his racing heart. He didn’t look up again until it was time to go back onto the ice, and this time, he didn’t let his eyes look for her, he kept them fixed on his teammates.

Frost knew Jax was on his shoulder as he skated. Rocky passed the puck to him. His stick met it with precision, and he put on another burst of speed. The ice ahead of him was clear, and rather than pass the puck off to one of the forwards, he ploughed ahead. Shooting for the goal, he watched the puck as it evaded the goalkeeper’s reach and sailed into the corner of the net.

Before he could celebrate his goal, his world tilted as his legs were pulled out from under him by a hockey stick and at the same time, Jax collided with him at full speed, sending them both to the ice, with the other player landing hard on top of him.

Frost’s head hit the ice with a resounding thump, stunning him. His ears rang, and blackness invaded the corner of his vision. Lying there, he felt Jax climb off him. He saw the other man lean over him and shout something, but he couldn’t hear the words. He did feel it though, when Jax smacked his stick into his ribs.

He turned his head to see Jax get pushed by Rocky, who wasn’t happy about the dirty hit Frost had received, and he knew it was going to descend into chaos.

Frost debated for a moment lying on the ice and letting the medics come and cart him off. Maybe Hel would come onto the rink to look at him.

No, that was ridiculous, he couldn’t lie here for attention. He was a professional athlete, he had taken hits before, and he needed to stand up. Pushing up to a sitting position, he observed his teammates battle it out on the ice with the Echidnas as the referee desperately tried to stop it.

Frost tried to stand, and his left leg immediately screamed with pain, and he dropped back down to a sitting position. Shit, that wasn’t good. He reached down and pushed on his lower leg, nearly blacking out when a wave of pain washed over him. His stomach rolled, and he panted for breath. This was not good at all.

As the adrenaline from the fall died down, the amplitude of the pain ramped up until he couldn’t sit anymore. He lay back down on the ice, breathing deeply and willing the pain to retreat and for nothing to be wrong with his leg. But it didn’t, agony consumed him.

Staring up at the ceiling of the ice rink, he let the sounds of his team, the roar of the crowd, and the smell of the ice wash over him. The cold, which he usually didn’t notice as he was never still for long enough, began to creep through his uniform. He puffed out a breath and watched with fascination as it condensed in the air.

Frost’s awareness drew inside his body, and all he was now was pain.

“Frost?” Rocky leaned over him.

Frost tilted his head to look at the other player but didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything.

“Are you okay?” Rocky dropped to his knees next to Frost, panic lacing his voice.

More of the team gathered, and he heard Jax’s words rise above them all. “He’s fine. He’s being dramatic. He’s—“

He was abruptly cut off by the sound of flesh hitting bone, and Frost assumed one of his teammates had given him a punch for his snarky words.

“We need Hel,” Rocky called out.

Frost felt him turn away, then bellow.

“Coach, Hel. Frost’s hurt. Get out here.” Rocky waved his arm.

He rotated his head to the side to watch Hel make her way onto the ice. Despite the pain coursing through him, he was concerned she would fall again. When she stepped onto the ice, Steve, the assistant coach, grabbed her arm and supported her.

That was good, he wasn’t going to be able to stop her from ‘eating shit’—he chuckled internally at the turn of phrase she had used when she fell.

He would have turned away, but that would have taken energy, so he watched as she carefully made her way to him. Noticing that the bright lights of the arena made her hair glint with fire. He wanted to reach out and run his hand through the halo of glowing strands surrounding her head. But that involved moving, and right now, his whole world was focused on not moving.

Hel dropped to her knees right next to him and put her bag down. “Frost. Can you hear me?”

Frost blinked at her a couple of times.

“Frost?” She tried again, putting her hand on his arm.

“Yes,” he croaked the words out.

“Did you hit your head?” She reached over and undid the chin strap of his helmet.

Frost tried to move his head, but she placed a hand on either side of his helmet to stop him, kneeling up and leaning over him so he couldn’t move.

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