Shootout (Northbrook Hockey Elite Book 6)

by Sophia Summers

The announcers were going crazy. The stands were going crazy. From the looks of things, every single person was on their feet. And Trane crouched, watching the pucks. Janae pressed her fingers into her palms.

  Trane’s back felt like a knife had entered and twisted right where he hit the back of the goal. He didn’t imagine he was made to bend in that way. But he ignored it. Whatever the problem, they could fix it after the game just as well as during. And he was not leaving the game. Not now. Not in the middle of a shootout.

  He pretended he was in practice when the guys skated in circles and sent puck after puck at him. He’d done this for hours. He could do it for hours more. And what’s more, he’d gone for full practice rounds with no one scoring. Just like now. It was just him and the shooter. One on one. One at a time. He watched the puck. This one was coming left. He knew it. Even though the player faked right, Trane moved to block something from the right but sent his legs out to the left. With his full body blocking the goal, the puck hit his thigh. Then he scrambled up, ready for the next one. Jax. Only he didn’t seem to recognize Trane. They were both in game mode. That’s okay. Trane didn’t care who sent the puck. It wasn’t going in.

  Although Jax was good, and he got past most goalies in the league, it wasn’t happening today. Trane knew his tricks. Trane caught the next shot, it went up in the air like it might go over his shoulder, but he sent a glove to block it and knocked it back out onto the ice. The Flyer’s circled, getting ready to send in the next player.

  Trane watched his teammate approach the Flyers goalie. He lost sight of the puck. The crowd went crazy, booing, with a small amount of cheers coming from the Comets’ fans. Trane looked over and Coach Conway had his hands in the air. Trane let out a breath of relief. They’d won. The announcers called the game.

  Trane let his arms drop, all the tension suddenly leaving him. And with it, some of his ability to move left as well. Pain throbbed through his back, shooting up to his neck. He’d almost forgotten it was there—almost.

  He shuffled off the ice, accepting all the pats, shoves, and jumps from his teammates though each one sent shards of pain through his back. He needed a good rub down. At least. He made his way toward the ramp and almost off the ice when he collapsed. He couldn’t explain it. His legs just gave out.

  People surrounded him. The noise seemed to amp up, but his mind went fuzzy. And he couldn’t focus very well. He might have thought it was funny when some of the guys tried to lift him, if it hadn’t hurt so bad. He blacked out.

  When he opened his eyes, he was in the medic room by the lockers. Coach was yelling. “He’s not going in until we’re certain he’s well.”

  “We have a chance at the playoffs. After tonight, the Comets might even have a shot at the Cup.” Todd, the team’s owner, sounded just as worked up as Coach.

  “You’ve got to think long game. If we hurt Trane past recoverability, he’s out forever. You want that?”

  “Of course not.” The voice moved closer. “Hey big guy, you coming back to us?”

  Trane tried to nod, but his head wouldn’t move. “What—” He twisted. And something else held him in place. A burst of panic shot through him until Coach said, “Son.”

  Coach Fenwick. “You’re all tied down to protect your neck. You’re fine, but stop squirming around.”

  Trane calmed immediately when he heard Fenwick’s voice. “What’s wrong with me?”

  The medic came and peered over his face so he could look into his eyes. “When Patterson rammed you up against the bar, he injured your back. We’re not sure specifically in what way at this moment, so we immobilized you. We’re going to transport you to the hospital and get some scans. We’ll know more then. Until then though. Don’t move.”

  Trane grunted.

  Then Coach Fenwick’s face came into view. “And you’re going to be just fine, son. Injuries happen. They’ll have you up and skating in no time.”

  “Thanks for being here.”

  “I came over as soon as I saw that check. I knew you were going to be feeling it. And son, that was some fantastic playing out there. I’ve never seen you play better.”

  “Thanks. We won.”

  “You sure did.” Fenwick patted his arm.

  “Anyone you want me to talk to for you?”

  Trane thought about Janae, but was that strange? To let her know how he was? They weren’t close. Not even really friends yet. Even though he thought about her all the time. “The guys.”

  “Yeah. I told the Pit already.”

  “Thanks.”

  “They’re worried in their own way.”

  Trane chuckled. And forgot he couldn’t move so he jerked against the bars. “I don’t like this.”

  “Don’t blame you, but it’s a necessary precaution ‘ol Jim says.”

  When Jim, their team doc, started making noise about how no one listened well enough, Coach Fenwick broke in, “And I agree with him.”

  That made Jim happy. Trane could tell because he started humming as he adjusted things all around Trane, things he couldn’t see.

  A new set of guys came running in with a rolling stretcher.

  “You’re going to the hospital by ambulance. I’ll meet you there.”

  Suddenly Trane got emotional. “Thanks Coach.”

  He placed his large and calloused hand on Trane’s forehead. “Of course.”

  Then they shifted Trane onto the stretcher, no small feat. “Someone have my stuff? I’d like my phone at least.”

  Coach’s face appeared above his again. “Got it taken care of. Now, son, I’ll see you there. They may take you straight in for your scans, but as soon as you’re done, I’ll be there, and we can talk this through.”

  Trane almost nodded but then remembered he couldn’t. “Okay, thanks Coach.”

  They wheeled him out of the room.

  Chapter 9

  Janae gasped when Trane collapsed at the edge of the ice. The sportscasters got the video crew to zoom in on the situation, and Janae found tears coming to her eyes and a soft sob shaking her stomach. He was immobile and nonresponsive. “Get up. Trane. Get up.”

  They struggled to get him up on a stretcher, and then carried him off the ice. That’s all anyone knew. She watched for another forty-five minutes, hoping they’d have an update on the TV, but it just started showing old shows from when she was a kid. So she pulled up her phone and did a Google search. As she scanned all the articles that had picked it up, no one had any new information. Frustrated, she turned her phone ringer up as loud as it would go and then went to bed with a book.

  But she couldn’t read. And she couldn’t sleep. She pulled up old dancing videos and studied form. She watched videos of herself learning choreography for a new show, and she watched some of the famous dancers perform in other shows. Then she switched to basketball floor dancers. She checked out the Mavericks’ dancers at their halftime show. Then she moved to the Lakers and the Nicks and the Pistons. And she started taking notes. New ideas poured in for her ice girls’ show, and for a moment she forgot everything else and scribbled notes. They were going to make a mark. Their show would blow the audience away if she had anything to do with it. She would make a name for herself and be able to work anywhere. She’d get out of Detroit.

  Her phone rang.

  She jumped across the bed, saw Trane’s name, and answered. “Hello! Trane? Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay.” His soft voice on the other side of the phone brought relief.

  “What did they say?”

  “I’m here in the hospital.”

  She gasped.

  “And they did scans. My back is a mess.”

  “What? Oh, no.”

  “But not permanently. I just need to stay off my feet for a while. Bulging discs, I guess?”

  “Oh those hurt, I hear. And the finals?”

  “I’m out for two weeks, one if I’m really careful.”

  She heard a voice in the background.

  “I know. All right
. Coach says two solid weeks, playoffs or no.”

  She couldn’t tell how he felt about all this. How sad was he? “I’d like to give that Patterson creep a thing or two.”

  He chuckled. “Wouldn’t we all?” Then he hummed. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. I mean. It’s been pretty rotten not knowing how you are. I couldn’t sleep. So I’ve watched all these dance videos and I got some new ideas…”

  “That’s great. When do I get to see this dance?”

  “Your next home game—or your team’s.” She winced.

  “I can sit on the sideline and watch.”

  “Oh, I guess if you’re sitting out then you can watch the ice girls.” Something about that made her overly pleased. Happier than she should have been when it meant that Trane couldn’t play.

  “Well then, that’s the best news I’ve had all day.” She could hear his smile.

  “I mean. I wish you could play.”

  “Well, so do I, but since no one is letting me do anything else I want, I’m just going to have to enjoy myself on the sidelines.”

  “I won’t complain. Maybe I’ll throw in something extra just for you.”

  “Ooh. That sounds interesting.”

  She felt her face heat, and was happy Trane couldn’t see her blush. “Well, you’ll have to tell us if you like it.”

  “I have no doubt I will.”

  The pause was nice. A silence filled with expectation. “So, when are you coming home?”

  “Day after tomorrow. I’m supposed to go straight to bed rest.”

  Disappointment filled her.

  “So, since we’ve got a date planned, I guess we’ll just have to do it at my place…you up for cards?”

  Happiness replaced that disappointment. “I’m a killer card player. You won’t know what hit you.”

  “That sounds nice.” He coughed, and she heard the wince in his voice. He was in some real pain.

  “But honestly, if you want to rest, maybe I’ll just come see you and then leave you to rest.”

  “I know I’m not much of a date,” Trane said. “You might want to wait until I can actually be some fun.”

  “It’s not that. I don’t need some kind of entertainment or anything. I just don’t want to wear you out. But I have to see you, so don’t tell me not to come.”

  “You do?” The pleased sound of his voice made her laugh.

  “Yes. I do. I promise I’m not some crazy-obsessed fan girl. It’s just that this whole thing has been the worst, and I need to see for myself how you are.”

  “Come on over. I’ll call you when I land.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Hey, I want to see you just as much.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. It’s crazy. I mean, we did only just meet, right?”

  “Right.” She heard her own laugh. She reminded herself of a young college girl. “But I don’t mind.”

  “Neither do I. See you in a couple days?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Okay, I think my meds are starting to kick in. I’m going to sleep now.” He started to mumble, and his word slurred together.

  “Good night, Trane.”

  “Good night, beautiful…do you know what I think of when I see you?”

  “What?”

  “A sunny day. You’re my sunny day, Janae.”

  She knew the drugs were starting to take over, but she loved the words anyway. “Thank you. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Yeah, you will. Good night.”

  When she hung up, she held the phone to her chest, hoping the happy delirium would linger.

  Chapter 10

  Trane arrived as early as ever to the arena. He’d been on bed rest for five days, and even though he couldn’t play, he was coming to the home game. Secretly, it was to see Janae dance, but he told the coach he wanted to sit with the team.

  And he did want to get back on the ice. He wanted the team to make it to the playoffs. If they could just get in, maybe they would have a shot at the Cup. After his last game against the Flyers, he knew they had a real chance of actually taking the Cup, despite everyone’s predictions. But the team had to first get in the playoffs, then win, and their last game , without Trane hadn’t gone well. The score had been zero to three. Trane heard about those three goals and felt literal pain. He could have blocked them.

  He moved slowly. The doctors said walking was good, and putting weight on it was good to see how he was doing in his recovery. But twisting, moving, and rotating his back on the ice was bad. When he had no more pain, he could get out there in a game.

  But he, and everyone else, knew you could take things for pain. So Trane was giving it a couple more games only, then he was back in. The Comets played against Clint tonight, one of his Pit friends. He was another reason Trane was determined to sit on the bench.

  Janae approached and embraced him. “How you feeling?”

  He loved the feel of her arms trying, but not quite succeeding, to stretch around him. “I’m doing okay.”

  She slowed her pace to walk beside him.

  “I feel like an old guy, but they say I’ll get better soon.”

  “Yes, they do, and as you told me, you’re as chipper as a racoon.” She snorted and tried to hold back a laugh.

  “I did not.”

  “Oh, you did. I heard all kinds of things from Trane-on-drugs that I might use against you some day.”

  He reached for her hand. “Thanks for coming over. Playing nursemaid for my sorry self is not how I envisioned our next dates going.”

  “I had a great time. Not all of your high comments were ridiculous.”

  “Wait, what?” He eyed her, suddenly embarrassed.

  “You know, the ones lauding my beauty. You apparently have a fascination with my dimples.”

  He could only laugh and try to hide his mortification. He did have a fascination with her dimples. She had one on her left cheek that didn’t just show up when she smiled. It sort of came and went, and he loved watching it sink into her cheek right by her mouth. But he would never have let on were he sober. “I can’t be held accountable for the things I said while under the influence.”

  “Oh, I think you can. I’m counting it all. A girl’s gotta remember what she can get.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I’m looking forward to telling you better things while sober.”

  She stopped and turned to him, her eyes hopeful, playful, and full of caring. “Well, I look forward to the day. I’ll compare notes.”

  He swung their hands a little bit and then said, “I’m looking forward to your dance. Are the ladies ready?”

  “I think so. They really worked hard.”

  “So, are things…better in that area?”

  “Sort of. I mean, I can’t get away from the fact that I have some sort of in with the hottest hockey player on the team…” She winked.

  “You do?”

  “Well, yeah.” She held up their hands. “I don’t think we even know what that is.”

  “No, though I have some ideas. Are you free tonight? I’d like to take you to dinner, something besides chicken noodle soup at my bedside.”

  “That was kind of sexy though, right?”

  He stopped and pulled her closer. “Totally.”

  Her eyes widened, and then her gaze dropped to his mouth.

  The girls were starting to arrive, and they stood outside the locker room, so she just nodded again.

  “I’m looking forward to your dance. I’m proud of what you put together.”

  “Wait till you see it before you decide if you’re proud or not.” She turned and jogged into the locker room.

  As he was walking away, Lily’s voice called him back. He groaned inside and turned. “Hey Lily.”

  She stepped close, so close he could smell her shampoo. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay, it’s going to be slower than I like, but could be worse.”

  She put a hand on his arm
. “I was so worried. If you need anything, I’m here, okay babe? Call me.” She swayed a little toward him, like she was going to step into his arms, but then she turned and walked toward her locker room.

  He hadn’t tried to give Lily any expectations. One time she was walking to her car alone, and a player from another team wasn’t letting her say no, so Trane had pretended to be her date. He’d just driven her home, but ever since she’d been around more. And from Janae’s comments, he assumed she felt something for him.

  She seemed like a nice enough woman. But she was nothing like Janae. He couldn’t explain it really. Janae was someone he’d been waiting to find. He’d been afraid to find her, honestly. Could he have a healthy relationship with someone? Something more than the Pit or Coach Fenwick? So far, she brought out only the good side in Trane. And thoughts of her helped calm his stress.

  As long as he wasn’t ever his dad…he ground his teeth. Maybe Fenwick was right. Therapy might help him work through whatever was hanging on to his happiness and confidence.

  He didn’t suit up—no pads, no stick. He just put on his warm-up jersey and a beanie.

  The second-string Goalie, Chad, pulled him over into a corner. “Trane. I can’t do this.” His eyes were wide, a line of perspiration wet his forehead.

  “What can’t you do? You’ve been doing this since you were a kid. You got it.”

  He shook his head, trying to swallow. “No. They score on me, dude. I can’t be you.”

  “Whoa. No. Don’t be me. You gotta be you.”

  He looked down.

  “Look at me. Chad. You got this. You watch the puck. You never let it out of your sight. And you don’t let it in. Use whatever you got. Do whatever it takes. You’re better than that little guy out there with his stick.”

  A spark of hope lit his face. “Okay. Watch the puck. Don’t let it in. It’s that simple, right?”

  “It is that simple.”

  He stepped away, muttering, “Watch the puck. Watch the puck.”

  Trane let out a breath of stress. There was nothing he could do about it. He just needed to rest, get better, and play as soon as possible.