Page 4 of Heart of Ice

“What do we do?” I asked the trainer that had helped me earlier.

“I’m not really sure. I’ve never seen the refs just let them fight it out. I mean they play again tomorrow night,” he said without looking away as one of our players tore a helmet off a player from the Blades and tossed it aside before punching him in the face, making the guy talking to me cringe.

“They’re going to kill each other,” I said and thought about how many players I’d be patching up tonight.

“They won’t go that far. They all want to do it all again tomorrow night,” Dexter, the first-string goalie, said from where he sat on the bench watching.

“How come you didn’t run out there?” I asked.

“Oh, I want to play tomorrow so I’ll get mine then. The rookie’s holding his own,” he said and pointed to the goalie who now had his helmet off and had another player’s jersey clasped in his hand while he pummeled him.

“Jesus, I’m going to be patching them up all week,” I grumbled, making him laugh.

“Welcome to the world of hockey,” he said and patted me on the back as he stood and leaned toward the ice. “I can’t wait to get back out there.”

“Of course you can’t,” I said. Even if I didn’t know him, I knew his type and knew I’d be patching him up the first game he was able to play.

The refs started pulling people off each other and shoving them in the direction of the player boxes while the crowd was on their feet screaming. Even though the game had ended, no one left yet. Everyone wanted to see who survived.

“Nice opening game, right?” Randall said when he skated over to the box. Blood ran from his nose and his knuckles were bloodied, but apparently, he wasn’t seriously injured.

“Right,” I said then walked over to where my supplies were and got ready to move it all into the locker room just as the Zamboni was driven onto the ice to clear off the blood and mess.

Five

Max

I was never soglad to see the refs pulling players out of a fight and shoving them in the direction of the locker room. I’d been punched, kicked with a skate, and hit with more than one stick after play had stopped. I knew some of the Titans had friends on the other team but in my eyes, they were all assholes.

“You did great, rookie. Tomorrow night won’t be as aggressive,” Randall said as he walked by me in the tunnel.

“I hope not,” I said to his back.

“How was it?” Dexter asked as he walked in step next to me.

“It was good. I could have lived with one less puck to the face, but I’m thankful for my helmet, and glad it was over when it was,” I said.

“You were thrown into the deep end first thing. I know Coach wants to make sure me and Vanel are completely healed before he puts us in, but I might be ready to give it a go tomorrow night.”

“I’m not trying to replace anyone, if that’s what you think. I knew coming on as third-string I wouldn’t see much play.”

“I never thought that about you. You were the most qualified player we found, and this past year has been a pain in the ass for me. If I can’t get my sciatica under control, I’m not sure if I can keep playing,” he said as he pulled me off to the side to let other players by.

He wore an expression of resolve, and I wondered if I’d feel the same if I knew my career could end before I was ready. “I didn’t know,” was all I managed to say.

“No one does. But I am excited about possibly moving to the coaching team and bossing everyone around that way.” He smiled then and I felt a little of the tension between us settle.

“What about Vanel?” I asked, because I knew he’d injured his wrist, but I wasn’t sure how long he’d be out.

“They think he strained the ligaments. With a little more rest, he should be able to play next weekend. Which brings us to the next two nights. Are you able to play two more games?”

“Sure. I mean I’ll do the best I can, but I might need a day off afterward.”

“Good thing the team has the next day off,” he said. “Do you have anyone you’re looking forward to spending time with?”

“Nope, I’m as free as a bird,” I said, and tried to act like those words didn’t bother me. Joel and I had been together for around a year, but last week he’d told me he’d taken a job in Seattle andplanned to move there. What he neglected to tell me was that he was leaving the next day. His mind was made up and there would be no changing it. He’d found his dream job, and I didn’t want to be the one that crushed it.

“Sounds like it’s time for you to meet someone new,” he said and patted me on the back. “Go get cleaned up, and, Max, I’d appreciate if you keep this conversation between us.”

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