Elliot POV
The air inside the facility smelled sharp, a mixture of stale ice, cheap skate wax, and the bitter tang of my own rising nausea. I held onto the cold steel of the rink partition, my knuckles turning white as a sudden wave of dizziness hit me. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to swallow against the metallic taste at the back of my throat.
On the ice, the team was running high-speed breakouts. The c***k of composite sticks against rubber echoed through the empty arena like gunshot fire.
"Keep the pace up, Nathan!" I called out. My voice lacked its usual booming pitch, but the players dug their edges deeper into the sheet anyway. They knew the pressure we were under. Everyone in the league did.
For twenty-four hours, the sports networks had been running a non-stop lo
