My Hockey Nemesis

ndle t

tment room. He shut the door behind him with one hand, his hockey stick gripped in

against the wall. "Am I early,

from my desk. "

aped him. "Good to

re wasn't a hint of fatigue in how he moved. He looked entirely, infuriatingly at ease. I pic

with overhead movement, reduced range of motion. And accord

been

e file drop slightly. "Busy pre

," he said, offering

t's just

ched, but he

he jers

complaint and tossed it onto the plastic chair

too,"

cking mine. "You always thi

the shirt o

ht I was getting

te lines across his shoulder and upper arm caught my attention before I could stop myself

ng. Some players paid with broken bones.

ght down, hard. "

ed his s

lacing one hand lightly against the front of his shou

lt before his arm was even parallel to the floor. Hi

" I asked. "

ix

at him. "

, defeated sigh. "

st, guiding the arm through a passive rotati

yin

har

y intense. I rotated the joint a fraction more, and a sharp, quiet hitc

ng back to grab the manual lotion. "Probably a part

" he muttered, looking defensive.

ible decisions with t

don't have a

through an injury m

mpletely dropping from his v

joint finall

ll deal

ood luck

his face, but it vanish

stepped up beside him, and placed one hand beneath his scapula to

pressing into the upper trape

had worse

dical prof

d, a hint of the

el

a

can literally feel th

an tel

rigger point near the anterior deltoid. His entire bo

o m

d hard. "No

let

rying,

st the side of his neck to steady myself, and beneath my fingertips, his pulse was absolutely rac

moved my hands lower, working car

sharply, a sudd

sing. "Does it

N

y the re

said quickly.

terrible

o I've b

of kinesiology tape o

elf up to a si

I said, measuring a strip against his skin. "But it's onl

it under

t." Not that I cared if h

ead, watching m

physical t

w," he

tape hovering in the air. "Wh

s expression unreadable, before he

us, heavy and thick, as I se

g meals," Arthu

y head up.

ving on co

my diet any of

e, refusing to look away.

he cap back onto the lotion bot

y, testing the tension of the ta

oo

l-skate pract

have com

keeping my back to him while he pu

en

ter judgment,

" he said. The tone wasn't a

ard, sending a strange jolt through my ch

w you

p it to y

d, picked up his hockey s

outside in the hallway, clipboard in hand. "Th

out into the hall. "Assuming h

ugh. "Well, good luck g

ged, leaning agai

is going to need manual therapy and rehab three times a week until he's cleare

. "I'm

the taping," Marcus said briskly. "Continuity of

ne else on staff woul

e finality of a director. "We need our best han

ouldn't push it further without ri

entirely unreadable expression cr

sday, Doc," h

nt the last three years trying to forget. And after less than thirty minutes in a room with him,