Tane rolled the shoulder once, twice, trying to shake it loose.
No dice.
But he gritted his teeth and kept moving, refusing to let it show in his stride.
Alex Rebrov skated up beside him during a passing drill, effortless as always, hair still damp from the shower, eyes sharp under the lights. Alex had been reading bodies longer than most, he could spot a limp from across the rink.
“You’re favoring the right side,” Alex said quietly, voice low enough that only Tane could hear over the crowd noise. “I know an injured player when I see one, Tane.”
Tane snapped the puck harder than necessary into the boards. “Mind your own business, Rebrov.”
The words came out harsh. But Alex didn’t flinch, he just raised one dark eyebrow and kept pace.
Tane circled back around the net, jaw tight.
Regret hit him almost immediately. Alex wasn’t prying for gossip, he was looking out for the team. And for an old friend too.
Tane peeled off the drill line and skated over. Alex was waiting near the blue line, stick resting across his thighs.
“Sorry,” Tane muttered, keeping his voice down. “Listen, man. It’s just a niggle. Been there all day. I’ll befine.”
Alex studied him for a long second.
“You’ve got three goals and an assist in the last four games since coming back,” Alex said. “You’re moving well. But that shoulder’s talking to you. You need to listen. You’ve been in the game long enough to know that.”
“We’re up in the series,” Tane said. “We’ve got the beating of these guys. I’m not sitting this one out. I can handle it.”
Alex nodded slowly. “Then tell Tremaine you want to sit,” Alex reasoned. “Limited minutes. We can close this at home without you playing hero for every damn minute tonight.”
Tane shook his head. “I need the reps. I need to fight through it, get the confidence back. If I start sitting now, it’s too easy to keep sitting. We’ve seen it before. Remember Nakov?”
“Yeah, I remember Nakov,” Alex answered. “And he went down as a Hall of Famer precisely because he knew when it was time to manage himself better. Sure, it got tough for him at the end. But you don’t have to go down that route. Just play it smart.”
“As your captain and your friend,” Tane said, clenching his jaw. “Back the hell off.”
Alex exhaled through his nose, a small sound that might have been amusement or resignation.
“Got it,” Alex said, a wry smile on his face. “You of all people know what you need to do, Tane. Just don’t be stupid about it.”
Tane clapped him on the shoulder and skated away before the conversation could drag on.
Then, the whistle blew.
The warm-ups ended.
It was time to line up and bring this one home…
* * *
The puck dropped and the game exploded into motion.
The first period was tight. The Stormers came out swinging, knowing full well that they were fighting for their lives to stay in the playoffs.
They were forechecking hard, trying to rattle the Enforcers.
But Tane played through the pain, keeping his shots quick and low, avoiding heavy contact when he could. He logged eight solid minutes, blocked a shot off the shin, won a couple of board battles. The shoulder screamed every time he wound up for a slapshot, but he buried the discomfort and kept moving.
“You good?” Alex asked as he skated up to Tane in a moment of respite.
