As he spun on his skates and readied himself to pass the puck to one of the defenders, one of the so-called enforcers on the opposing team barreled into him with a raised elbow, slamming into his face at a speed that sent him crumbling to the ice before anyone could even react.
The air was ripped from Jules' lungs and she stood, her gaze flicking back and forth between the scene on the ice and the large video board showing what the camera’s captured.
With his teammates surrounding him on the ice, it was hard to get a good look at the scene as it unfolded but a fight broke out between the player who had slammed into Cam on purpose and another Harbour player.
Their gloves flew off and fists started flying everywhere as the men flailed around on their skates, hurling insults at one another that no one could hear over the thump of the in arena sound system playing some top ten pop song.
The angle on the video board changed to a close up showing Cam being lifted off the ice with a towel held under his nose, his jersey and the ground around where he’d fallen streaked with blood.
“Fucking hell…” Jules muttered to herself, her hands clasped over her mouth to conceal her shock as best she could. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen her brother get hurt playing hockey and it wouldn’t be the last but it never, ever got easier.
As soon as Cam slipped out of sight into the tunnel with the medical staff, she looked down at the Harbour bench and found an expressive pair of green eyes staring back at her.
“It’s okay,” Frankie mouthed, nodding, trying to reassure Jules in the little way she could.
But it didn’t help to settle her nerves as she was forced to sit through the rest of the game knowing she couldn’t see Cam until well after the final buzzer.
When the game did finally end in a 3-1 loss, Jules navigated the thick crowd of fans all heading off to ring in the new year and she weaved her way through families and clumps of minor hockey teams before arriving at a hallway marked ‘no access beyond this point’ that she knew led down to the home team’s locker room.
She didn’t have a pass to allow her past the security guard even though she was Cameron Clarke’s sister and she anxiously shifted her weight back and forth from one foot to another, checking her phone every two minutes to see if someone, anyone, from the team had sent her a message.
A hand on her shoulder startled her and she turned to find Frankie standing beside her.
“He’s okay,” she said, her voice calm and steady. “He’s pretty banged up and it’s looking like his nose is broken and maybe his jaw but he’s in good spirits.”
Jules deflated, the tension in her shoulders disappearing as she sighed in relief. “Thank God,” she said, before her eyes filled with tears. Frankie’s eyes softened and she slid her hand down Jules' arm to squeeze her hand before pulling her into a hug.
The comfort of the embrace, being in Frankie’s arms, the scent of her woodsy perfume, it made Jules head spin a little and she didn’t stop herself when she hugged Frankie back a little tighter.
“Jules,” Frankie whispered against the crown of her head. “It’ll be alright. He’s laughing back there, joking with the team and cursing the other guys like he always does after the loss. He’s angrier about not getting the win than he is about taking the heavy hit, trust me.”
“Really?” Jules asked, pulling back to look up at Frankie. She wiped her cheek, feeling foolish for her outburst of emotion and Frankie rubbed her arm.
“Really. Want to come back and see him? Everyone’s changed and the chosen ones are off to do post game media before Neil does his own.”
“Okay.” Jules nodded and sniffled, then let Frankie lead her past the security guard and down the hallway towards a part of the arena most people never got the chance to see.
They’d be disappointed by it all to be honest because aside from the locker room and the hallway leading out onto the ice that were decked out in the team colours and logo, the walls were a boring slate grey, the halls lined with various equipment cases and gear boxes, trash cans and empty pallets.
Frankie slid her hand to Jules' lower back as they travelled through the labyrinth of hallways, offering a greeting to other members of the staff as they passed by and when they reached the threshold of the home team locker room, she dropped her hand.
“We’ll talk later, okay?” She gave Jules a reassuring nod and offered a warm, comforting smile that would put anyone at ease. “I’ve got to go deal with the aftermath of the loss today but…have fun at your party tonight.”
Before Jules got to thank her, to tell her that there was only so much the team could do against such a stronger opponent, to say I wish we were going to the same party, Frankie was walking back in the direction they’d come from, off to do whatever an assistant coach was tasked with after a less than ideal performance.
The team had multiple power play opportunities in the game and couldn’t convert. People would ask questions of Frankie, would judge her decisions, scrutinize the players she chose to put on the ice and ask whether someone with more experience might be better suited for her position.
It wasn’t fair but it was part of the job and Jules was grateful that Frankie had taken any time at all away from the stresses of her job to soothe some of her worry. She didn’t need to, didn’t owe Jules anything, but she’d done it anyway.
The locker room was still filled with people milling about, from players still in various states of undress, to equipment staff packing things away and the media snapping photos and video for social media.
Cam was sitting at his stall, ice on his nose, with his eyes fixed on his cell phone in his hand.
“Rough day at the office, huh?” Jules crossed the room and plopped down beside him at a vacant stall
He looked up at her and grinned. “I’ve had worse.” He lowered the bag of ice and Jules got her first good look at the damage. “Luckily it’s just a broken nose. They thought my jaw was cooked but I don’t think it’s that bad. Might have to wear a cage for a game or two though which is so fucking lame but what can ya do, right?”
Jules studied his face, scowling at the bruising around his nose and below his eyes that was already forming. It definitely didn’t look pretty and was only going to get worse but her brother was a tough nut to crack and would do his best to carry on as if he hadn’t even been hit.
