Page 53 of Face Off

The buzzer sounded, and I closed my eyes, relieved I had at least twenty minutes to rest.

I followed the guys through the tunnel, keeping my attention on a spot a few feet in front of me to avoid talking to anyone and them seeing my pain. It wasn’t out of the norm for any of us to be zoned in, focused on our thoughts, and not interested in small talk while we disappeared to our lockers.

Once I was sitting again, I took off my right skate and realized I’d made a stupid mistake when I’d gotten ready for the game. I’d been so caught up in the excitement and Hartman’s speech that I didn’t wrap my ankle.

While Coach went over what he wanted from us in the last period, I pulled a roll from my locker and began wrapping my swelling ankle with as little fanfare as possible.

When I was done and had retied my skate, I looked up and immediately regretted it. Mitch, Lance, and Parker were all staring at me, and Coach glanced in my direction several times before finishing his speech.

I didn’t react. Nothing was wrong, and there was no reason to be alarmed by the attention. I was just fine.

By some miracle, I was able to make it through my first shift without getting tripped or hit by an opponent. I was being more cautious than normal and hoped none of the guys picked up on that.

Each break was too short. I felt like I was on the bench for mere seconds before having to throw my legs over the boards and get back into the action. I couldn’t let a stupid injury hold me back. I had to prove myself. If I slacked off for even one game, I was giving management the ammunition they needed to get rid of me.

They wanted me to increase my numbers so that’s what I had to do. I cleared my mind of everything but the next play. I got to where I needed to be and waited for the puck. The second it glided toward me, I backhanded it toward the net and Parker was there, waiting like he was supposed to be. He reacted just as we practiced, and the puck went soaring past the goalie.

The guys slammed into me, clapping my helmet and back, and I locked eyes with Parker, grinning at each other like madmen. We did it. But now that the laser focus I’d had was wearing off the pain was rearing it’s head.

Sadie was cheering when I risked looking up, but the moment my eyes connected with Holly’s I saw the concern. Did she know something was wrong?

I smiled and waved to the fans before stepping off the ice and heading to the locker room, falling onto the bench in front of my name and number. Coach only had a few words of encouragement before telling us to shower and enjoy the night.

“You okay?” Lance stood in front of me, and I finally let the outside world in.

Like a flood washing over me, the pain shot up my leg put I pushed it away. “Fine.”

“No. You’re not,” Mitch countered.

I started to stand, but Parker blocked me. “You’re hurt.”

There were too many ears and eyes in the room for me to say anything. Didn’t they remember what was at stake for me? If anyone heard and casually mentioned my injury to someone in management, I was done for.

“I appreciate the concern, but really, I’m fine.”

“At least promise us you’re going to get it checked out, as soon as you can,” Mitch pressed.

I nodded. “I will.”

“He doesn’t mean after the season or even a week from now,” Lance added.

I understood that. There was no way they’d let me get away with that long. I clenched my jaw and fought to control my breathing. “Got it.”

Lance sighed. “I’m worried about you.”

“Did it impact the game? Did anyone but you guys notice?” I barked out. I didn’t want him or anyone wasting time worrying over me.

“No,” Mitch admitted. “Not yet.”

I glared at him, but deep down I knew he was right. I got lucky today. I played through the pain tonight, but what about next time? How many more games could I get away with fighting through it?

Maybe I really did need to consider my other options.

I could feel a countdown hanging over my head. I might be able to grin and bear the pain for a few weeks. I might even be able to survive the rest of the season, but then what? I couldn’t live like this forever. I certainly couldn’t go into next season with a persistent injury.

As much as I didn’t want to think about it, I had no choice but to consider the future. Even if I gave everything I had left for the rest of this season, there was no guarantee it would be enough to appease management. I would not go down to the farm team. That was my line. I’d retire before that happened. Which meant my only real choice wasn’t a choice at all. It was processing and accepting that retirement was going to happen sooner rather than later, no matter what I did.

Even if they decided to keep me another year, I needed the corrective surgery. That would prevent me from training over the summer, and that was only if I recovered with enough strength and mobility to skate at my current level. There was no way of knowing, when surgery was involved. It might be just what I needed to last another five years, or it could be the final nail in my career’s coffin.