Chapter 34
The small waiting room was crammed full of sweaty bodies. Cozy in beige and brown tones, with three blocky sofas, a coffee table full of magazines, a tiny TV up in one corner replaying the game and big windows shrouded by thick curtains. A hush fell over the room as The Hit came on screen. Oriana winced as Thornton’s elbow connecting with the back of Tyler’s neck played out in slow motion. The ref hadn’t made a call because at first it looked like a clean hit. But the NHL board of governors would review the hit and probably suspend Thornton.
Unless they had their heads up their asses. Which sometimes happened.
Carter, who hadn’t stopped pacing since he’d arrived, punched the stack of magazines and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the screen. “He didn’t even have the f***
