Forever Pucked (11 page)

We had an engagement party several months ago, before the hockey season started. I ended up with the worst case of hives ever. I took so much antihistamine I was high for two days.

After that Alex backed off, but our mothers were still all over me about it during the holidays, and I ended up with hives again. Alex has skirted the conversation since then; he’s likely giving me a reprieve.

I know he’s going to bring it up again soon, though, and I’m going to have to gently argue my case for next summer instead of this summer. When he proposed, he said we could have a long engagement. I don’t think two years is unreasonable. It gives us adequate planning time.

Alex can be particular. He’s going to want his hand in all the pies. Well, his hand only ever goes in my pie, but he’ll be hands-on about this, I know. That’s how he was with the engagement party. And he’s going to want it to be perfect. Only the best of everything.

I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t end up riding in on a white horse, wearing a suit of armor like he’s straight out of a fairytale. He’s that romantic. Sometimes I feel like the guy in this relationship. Like, after sex, he always wants to cuddle for at least fifteen minutes. Sometimes I zonk out on him while he’s talking.

The buzzer sounds, drawing my attention to the rink, and the guys take the ice with Alex facing off at center. I love watching him play. My beaver gets so drooly. And we have the best sex after games, win or lose. He’s needier when they lose and more aggressive when they win. I like it both ways. I like it all ways, actually.

Alex gains control of the puck and skates toward the goalie. He passes to Darren, who easily avoids the opposition’s defense. Alex and Darren have been playing together for years, so they know each other’s moves. They should be predictable to their opponents by now, too, but they strategize every week, devising ways to throw off the other team and shake things up.

Darren doesn’t pass to Alex right away; he plays the puck, shifting to Lance, who checks a Toronto player into the boards as he shoots the puck back to Alex. I recognize the name on the back of his jersey. It’s Cockburn, the guy Alex got into a fight with last year. He was ejected from the game, and we had hot sex in the locker room.

Alex is in front of the net now, but his shot hits the post, and the goalie captures it, taking it out of play.

He gives his head a furious shake when Darren comes around to pat his shoulder. He’s disappointed. I’m sure he was hoping for a quick goal to boost team morale.

The game resumes, but the first half of the period remains goal free, with several close misses for Chicago. Then Toronto scores with four minutes left in the period.

Alex isn’t happy. He runs an aggressive hand through his hair while he and Darren close-talk. They’re shoulder to shoulder, and Darren’s calm and level while Alex isn’t. My man can get agitated when he feels he’s not performing well enough. He hates letting people down.

I’m so busy watching Alex and Darren, I totally miss what’s happening on the ice until Lily jumps out of her seat.

She slams her fists against the plexiglas barrier. “Hell yes, babe! That’s my man!”

I check out the scene: Randy’s grinning widely and getting back pats, and the score’s been tied. I clap and cheer, keeping an eye on Alex. He’s been struggling lately with Randy’s place on the team.

Alex says he’s captain material. Alex might be more graceful, but he has to work a lot harder to keep up than he used to. And it’s easy to talk about what he wants to do when he’s done playing, but the reality is a lot tougher to take. He’s getting loads of endorsements, and has a few more years with Chicago, but after that, well, there’s never a guarantee they’ll renew, or that he’ll have many more seasons on the ice.

I think that’s part of the reason he’s pushing so hard for a wedding. He wants something to look forward to. He wants security and to feel settled because his hockey trajectory is changing. That’s the difficult thing about hockey; it’s a short career—hard on the body and the ego.

Alex pats Randy on the shoulder when they pass each other. Randy’s smile is huge, as is Lily’s when she turns to say something to Sunny.

The goal is great for Chicago, helping carry them through until the end of the second period. Unfortunately, Toronto manages another goal while Alex is on the ice at the beginning of the third, tying the game again.

His frustration with himself is obvious as he trades off with Randy. This time Randy doesn’t score either. I’m not sure whether this is good or bad. Chicago really needs the win. With three minutes left in the game, Alex returns.

He gains control of the puck right away, flying down the ice with singular focus. He wants this so badly; it’s painful to watch. He skates around the players, shifting the puck as he goes. He’s so absorbed in getting close to the net, he doesn’t see Cockburn coming at him from the right.

The guys were talking about him the other day. He and Lance are fighting for the top spot in the league for number of penalties and most fights. He makes Alex look like a saint. He’s also huge.

Alex sees him as he gets within shooting range, but Toronto defense is on it, blocking his shot. He passes to Darren, and switches course, skating behind the net.

That’s when it happens. Cockburn hooks Alex’s skate and rams him from behind, sending him head first into the boards.

The crack echoes through the arena. I’m out of my seat before Alex hits the ice. My beer slips from my fingers, and the contents splash over my legs. The roar of the crowd is deafening. Rage expands and consumes the Chicago fans, blanketing the arena in an explosive outcry. And I scream right along with them.

Darren drops his stick and skates to Alex as a ref does the same.

He’s not moving.

Alex isn’t moving
.

And still I scream. Like I’m on fire. Like the world is ending. Like I’ve gone insane. I jump and grab for the edge of the plexiglas barrier that prevents me from getting to him. I’m too short. It doesn’t mean I don’t keep trying.

People converge on Alex like metal to a magnet until I can’t see him anymore. Then Randy jumps the boards, stickless. He and Buck skate away from Alex. I don’t understand why, until I follow their path to mayhem incarnate.

Lance has Cockburn on the ice, and he’s beating the living shit out of him. When he brings his fist up, it’s a blur of red. Vibrant splatters dot the ice. Buck catches his fist on the next upswing, and Randy grabs Lance around the waist, hauling him off. Cockburn’s face is covered in blood. He might spit out teeth as he rolls to his side.

I want to feel something other than vicious gratitude for Lance’s aggression, but I can’t.

When Lance tries to go for Randy, Randy gets him down on the ice and holds him there with his forearm on the back of his neck. They knock helmets. It reminds me of fighting bulls with horns clashing, except it’s helmets and hockey instead. All of this takes no more than a few seconds.

I’m still screaming and trying to scale the barrier when an arm clamps around my waist. “Put me down! He’s not moving! I can’t see him! I need him!” My words come out in a stream of nonsense through my blubbering.

“Calm down, Violet.” Sidney’s deep voice is loud in my ear. “Calm down. We need to go, and we can’t do that if you’re melting down.”

“Vi, honey, we need to go now,” my mom says gently, but firmly.

I stop fighting and screaming, realizing they’re right. I can’t get to him this way. We have to go around. I’m too panicked to do anything but take Charlene’s and my mom’s offered arms.

I need to get to Alex.

My stomach feels like the contents are at risk of reappearing. Sidney leads the way, and I stumble along behind him. I’m not really carrying my own weight. It’s my mom and Charlene who are managing.

Sunny’s terror-stricken voice comes from behind me, along with Lily’s broken soothing. I crane my neck for a glimpse of anything, but I still can’t see Alex. Paramedics flood the ice. Most of them go to where Alex is surrounded, but one heads for Cockburn. He’s moving, so he’s not the primary concern.

Sidney pulls his scout card when we reach security. The closer we get to Alex, the more frantic I am. I push free of my mom and Charlene, but one of the security guards grabs me by the arm before I can get anywhere.

“Let go of me! I’m his fiancée!” I hold up my hand with the monster diamond.

“I can’t let you on the ice.” His face is hard.

I pull at his hand, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. His fingers are like steel. He’s not hurting me, but he could, and I could hurt myself if I can’t calm down.

But I’m not calm. I’m desperate and terrified. My voice is hoarse from all the screaming. “I need to know he’s okay!” Tears stream down my face, blurring my vision as I gesture toward the ice. The closest I can get is the plexiglas, so I press myself against it and watch while the paramedics stabilize Alex’s neck with one of those brace things.

He’s too far away. I have too many questions. I’m so scared. “Why are they doing that? Why isn’t he moving?” I look to Sidney for answers, but he doesn’t have any.

Sunny folds me in an embrace, and I realize she’s as scared as I am. He’s her brother. He’s my life. And we have no idea what his injuries are or how bad it is. They lift him on to the stretcher and wheel him toward us.

“Out of the way!” the paramedic yells.

Sunny and I are pulled aside. I get the briefest glimpse of Alex. Of his ashen face. Of the laceration cutting across the bridge of his nose. The trail of smeared blood across his cheek.

All of those things terrify me, but nothing compares to the crushing fear that swallows me at his complete and utter stillness.

And then we’re running. Sidney’s practically carrying me as we follow the EMTs. I’m gripping Sunny’s hand as we go. I’m so desperate to touch him. Be near him. Feel his chest move and make sure he’s breathing. Flashing lights greet us as the doors burst open. They’re ready for him, lifting the stretcher into the ambulance, Alex’s limp body rocking with the movement.

“Wait!” I try to break free of Sidney’s grip, but he holds on even tighter. “I’m coming in that ambulance.”

One of the EMTs puts up his hands. “You need to calm down, ma’am.”

“I’m his fiancée! I need to go with him!” I can’t seem to take a breath, and my words are stilted.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t let you go in your condition. It’s not safe.” He looks to Sidney, whose arms I’m clawing at, trying to get free so I can be with Alex.

Beneath my hysteria, I know he’s right—that I’m likely a distraction and a hazard—but I can’t stop the panic.

“I don’t want him to be alone.” I’m sobbing again, struggling and failing to keep myself together.

Sunny steps forward with her hand raised. “I’m his sister. Can I go?”

The EMT assesses her state. She’s so much calmer. “Get in. We need to go. Now.”

Sunny looks to me, as if she needs permission. I can’t speak any more, so I flail a weak hand toward the ambulance.

One of the EMTs helps her up. They’re already hooking Alex up to monitors. Sunny’s shoulders curve in; one palm presses against her face, and the other settles on Alex’s arm. It should be me in there. I can’t breathe. He’s my everything.

The doors close with a heavy slam, cutting off my view, and drive away with my life, sirens blaring.

It’s what my heart would sound like if it could scream, too.

Too Close to the Edge

VIOLET

Thankfully the crowd hasn’t spilled out of the arena yet to gum up the parking lot and exits. Sidney’s driving with my mom in the passenger seat. I’m in the back, sandwiched between Charlene and Lily. The ride to the hospital is painful. I feel like I’m going to barf. My whole body is numb and hyper-alert at the same time.

Buck calls my phone minutes after we pull out of the parking lot. I try to answer, but my hands are shaking too badly for me to hit the button.

“Here. Let me get it.” Charlene gently pries the phone from my hands and brings it to her ear. “Hi, Miller… She’s right here with me. He’s in the ambulance, and we’re following. Sunny’s with him. Vi’s having a hard time. I know… Yes… No.”

“I want. To talk. To him.” I hiccup through the words and hold out my hand.

“Vi wants to talk to you.”

Charlene passes me the phone. I can’t get the shaking under control. I think this might be what shock is. I clutch my phone with both hands and bring it close to my ear. “Buck?” It comes out as a horrible-sounding sob.

“Shh. It’s okay, Vi. He’s gonna be okay.” His voice is cracking, though, so I don’t know if I should believe him.

“He w-wasn’t moving. H-he w-w-wasn’t—I c-c-can’t.” I suck in a gasping breath. I’m losing it again, not that I had anything under control in the first place.

“He took a hit, Vi. It happens. You gotta trust he’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna meet you at the hospital. We’re all gonna be there with you. ’Kay?”

“H-how long will you be?”

“Half an hour tops. We’re right behind you.”

“Do Daisy and Robbie know?”

“I talked to them. They’re on the first flight out. They’ll be here by morning.”

I try not to think about how many hours that is, and what could happen between now and then. “’K-kay.”

“He’s gonna be fine, Vi.”

“He has to be.”

“Put Lily on for a sec.”

“’K-kay.”

As soon as I pass the phone to Lily, Charlene drapes an arm over my shoulder and pulls me to her side. I’m a snotting, sobbing mess. I can’t stop, and it’s making breathing difficult. “I’m scared.”

“I know. We all are.” This is what I love about my best friend. She doesn’t tell me it’s going to be okay when she doesn’t know if that’s true. She’s just here for me.

I can tell Lily’s on the phone with Randy by her tone. I’m crying too hard to listen. It feels like it takes forever to get to the hospital. We lose the ambulance at a red light, so I start panicking again. My mom turns in her seat and holds out her hand. I want to crawl in her lap and make her tell me it’s all a bad dream, like I’m a little kid, even though I know it’s not.