Hel hastily scooped up her medical kit and followed them. Watching in amazement as they all moved in their skates as easily as if they were walking in shoes.
They took Frost into a room, which was big enough for a bed and a bit of space to walk around it. The players placed him down, and Coach Morgan indicated for them all to leave, so it was only him and Hel left.
“Frost. I’m going to do a couple of things. First, I think we need to take your skate off. I’m sure your leg will be swelling, and I don’t want it to cut the blood flow off to your foot.” Hel pulled her scissors back out of the bag, ready to cut the laces.
But Coach Morgan stilled her hand. “That’s okay. Let me remove his skate.”
Going to the end of the bed, he untied the laces and unthreaded them before he began to wiggle at the boot to take it off.
Frost groaned and took another deep inhale on the green whistle. “Coach, you’re off my Christmas list now.”
He groaned again when Coach Morgan pulled the boot a little harder to take it off.
“Was I ever on your list?” the Coach replied wryly.
Hel laid her equipment out for cannulation. She wished she had some stronger painkillers, but the green whistle was the best she could do.
“No. But to be fair, none of the team were either. Not even Star’s on my list.” Frost waved his hand vaguely in the air.
Hel’s ears pricked up, but she kept her head down, pretending she wasn’t incredibly interested in what was about to be said.
“She’s really pretty, but she’s really annoying,” Frost continued.
Hel bit her lip to stop the giggle, which was desperate to escape. He had no tolerance whatsoever for drugs.
The Coach moved from the skate on Frost’s broken leg to the one on his good leg, moving more swiftly now he didn’t have to be careful. “It sounds like you need to break up with her then, son.”
“I do. I tried the other day, but she left for a trip and didn’t let me speak. I need to do it when she gets back,” Frost said and took another puff on the green whistle.
Hel peered at the writing on the whistle. It was only methoxyflurane, yet to Frost, it was like a truth agent.
“Frost. I need to put a drip in your hand.” Hel reached over for his right arm and pushed the sleeve up.
Her gaze caught on a tattoo of a small rainbow with a date under it. The coloured ink stood out against the rest of his pieces, which were mostly intricate black-and-white drawings. She corrected herself, black and skin-coloured drawings.
Frost followed her eyes and tapped the whistle clutched in his left hand onto his arm. “That was for my dog. Dog.”
Hel bit back another laugh. “You had a dog called Dog?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
“Why?” Hel enquired as she put the tourniquet around his arm.
“Because he was a dog,” Frost replied very seriously.
Hel sputtered as her laughter finally escaped.
“And this one.” He pointed to one a little higher on his arm. “I got one night in college when I was very drunk. And this—“
Coach Morgan cut him off. “Frost. She doesn’t need a tour of your tattoos.”
Hel didn’t comment, as she actually wanted a tour of his tattoos. Instead, she tightened the tourniquet on his arm and tapped on his hand to make the vein stand up.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’m going to put his skates safe and talk to the team,” the Coach stated. Not waiting for an answer before he walked out of the room, leaving the door open.
“Sure,” Hel called after him and got ready to put the drip into the vein on Frost’s hand. “It’ll be a little prick, okay.” She looked up, meeting Frost’s hazy gaze.
“That is not something any man wants to be told,” he slurred.
