Page 19

Chapter 18

Taylor – A Week Later

I breathe heavily as I dodge the center to the Sparks when he drops his stick near my skates to trip me, cheating a-fucking-gain all because they’re losing. I spin, a trick my sister taught me many fucking moons ago to get away from the defense barreling towards me with a face like thunder before I make it to the goal and without a second thought, I shoot as their goalie skates away from his post like an idiot. He misses the puck as it hits their net, and the light flashes above it.

3-1 to us.

Their team has been playing fucking hard, and by hard, I mean aggressive and dirty all evening.

Three of my team members have nearly been knocked out, while two of theirs have been banned from the ice for aggressive behavior.

One fucking smashed their stick into Seth’s legs when he got the puck off them.

They’re sore fucking losers.

I nod and go to move, ready to continue the game with four minutes left, when I’m suddenly shoved hard catching me off guard, and I fall face fucking first causing my helmet to fall off as my head bangs on the ice and the crowd screams and shouts in outrage.

Fuck…I blink because that hurts.

Groaning, I get up to see a fight breaking out. Ezra punches the fucker who shoved me while another Sparks team member brings their hockey stick up, ready to smack him on the head despite his helmet being on the floor.

Growling, I skate towards them and intercept the stick, grabbing it with my hands as I yank it off him and shove him backward. Then, I turn to help Ezra, but a fist hits my way, and I fall like a ton of fucking bricks before my head hits the ice once again. This time without the safety of my helmet and everything going black.

“I want their fucking team disqualified right now!” I hear screamed, and I slowly open my eyes, but dizziness takes hold, making me squeeze my eyes tight again.

Fuck me.

I blink, then blink again before making eye contact with my dad, who sighs in relief, but my sister's screaming continues to pound through my head.

“I want their heads; they are not fit to be in the fucking league !” she continues, and I wince.

“Baby, baby, calm down,” I hear Ezra try and soothe, but it does fuck all as she shouts, “No! That defender who tackled him after he scored was fucking Elena. She caused this, and he allowed her to. He’s already admitted that. He got the whole team to act dirty in that game because of her lies. They need disqualifying!”

Now, why does that not surprise me?

I raise a brow at Dad, who winces and admits, “She hasn’t stopped screaming and even demanded an ambulance, but the docs said you’d wake soon after performing some tests. You took quite the blow.”

I nod but groan at the dizziness. Dad helps me sit up as a phone rings in the background or maybe it’s just in my head. Dylan's concerned face enters my vision as the ringing stops and immediately starts again.

“It’s good to see you awake, little brother, but you need to answer your phone,” he says as he lifts up my phone. Huh, guess it’s not in my head then? I frown and look at the screen to see it’s Pen.

The phone silences again, then rings yet again, and Hannah says, “He can call her back later," then gets in my face and asks, "How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

I blink, my mind not comprehending exactly what has happened. I’m missing something, I just don’t know what.

Ezra comes over and pulls her back, but she tries to fight against him, “No, I need to make sure he’s okay!”

“And you need to allow your brother time to breathe and speak to the mother of his child, who most likely saw his hit, now back off or get out!” Dad snaps and my eyes widen. The hit I took from that fucker to the jaw comes back full force before I fell and hit my head on the ice, and everything went black.

Fuck, Pen!

My phone silences then rings again, and I quickly take it from Dylan and answer instantly.

“Firecracker,” I rasp, and her relieved sobs echo through the receiver so loud that even my sister stills hearing her, her eyes widening.

“Pen baby, I’m alright, I promise I’m okay.” I try to soothe her, but her sobs get louder, and her breathing labored, and I begin to panic. I beg, “Breathe for me, Firecracker. Take deep breaths, please," and she does as I say, and I praise, “That’s it. Deep breaths with me, baby.”

Hannah’s eyes tear up as she chokes out, “Oh my god, she really does love him,” She covers her mouth while my dad squeezes my shoulder. Dylan puts his hands on top of his head as he breathes deeply, guilt shining off him.

Fucker should have answered my phone instead of waiting for me to wake up, and I think he’s beginning to see that.

“You-you’re, okay?” she chokes, and my heart fucking breaks at her pain.

“I promise I am okay,” I say as Eddie, our team doctor, walks in. I inform her, “I’ve just got to speak to the doctor, and when I get back to my hotel, I’ll Facetime you. Or do you want me to pass the phone to Dylan while I talk to him so you’re still connected?”

Hannah lets out a sob, seeing how I’m trying to console and soothe Pen, showing everyone in the room that she is my priority in this situation. I ignore her and wait for Pen’s answer, an answer I think I already know. She’s shown her cards, maybe not intentionally, but she has. She’s in love with me, and fuck me if that isn’t the best feeling in the world.

“P-pass to Dylan,” she stutters, and I say, “Okay, Firecracker. I’ll take the phone back once I’m done," then I hand the phone to my brother, who looks at me with guilt.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says, “I’m sorry, I should have answered his phone.”

I don’t hear what she says, but my brother’s eyes soften; I know her big heart is instantly forgiving him, me on the other hand, I’m going to fucking punch him.

“Well, at least now you know exactly how she feels, son,” my dad says, and I nod as Eddie walks over and takes a seat on the stool.

“Alright fucker, give it to me,” I say, and he smirks then confirms, “You have a concussion.” I groan, knowing I won’t be able to play the rest of the week.

Fuck.

“You were lucky, Taylor, real fucking lucky,” he says, “You have bruising to your jaw from where he hit you, and you have a nice lump on your head, but otherwise, you’re going to be alright,” he looks around the room then back at me, “As you’ve probably figured out, you are out for the rest of the week then we have a bye week, and if you pass my tests after the bye week you can play again.”

I nod, then ask, “How’s the team doing? Last I remember was the Sparks started a massive fucking fight.”

Eddie smiles and says, “Jack has a nice slash on his arm; Levi has a bruised eye, and Seth has a broken nose. You managed to stop Ezra from getting a serious head injury when that idiot defender tried to hit him with his stick and the refs called the game early, the Red Lions winning. Coach is doing damage control.”

“Fuck winning the game, the fucker got a head injury himself trying to save me,” Ezra butts in with anger, I give him a shake of my head, not wanting him to rile my sister back up, especially with Pen on the phone. He sighs but nods back begrudgingly.

“Uh, Eddie,” Dyl says, getting our attention. He winces as he holds the phone out, and I narrow my eyes as Eddie takes the phone.

“Yes?” he says as he puts the phone on loudspeaker, seeing my reaction.

“Hi, this is Penelope Vine, I’m a registered nurse. I watched the match or game or whatever you want to call it,” I grin as Dad chuckles as my girl proves she wasn’t aware of who I was when we met and is not a puck bunny. She continues, “Not only did he knock his head on the ice before the hit, causing his helmet to fly off, but he hit his frontal lobe before he blacked out for twenty minutes, and yes, I timed it from the moment he went down to the moment my call finally got answered. How sure can you be that he can play again within two weeks after that injury, especially with a concussion? Protocol normally states he should be off the ice for at least six months!” she rants with a rasp to her voice, emotions clouding her, and I can’t help but snort that she’s gone into nursing mode. My dad has to bite his fist to hold in his chuckle while Ezra and Dylan clear their throats.

My sister looks at the phone with awe while Eddie nods at me and states, “She’s a keeper, Evans,” to which I reply, “Yeah, I know.”

Shaking his head, he states, “While he was unconscious, we did a head CT. There are no signs of damage to his frontal lobe, only bruising on the surface. As long as he isn’t showing any signs of dizziness, vomiting, headache, ear aches, or all the usual signs, then he can continue to play, and as a nurse, you know normally it’s one to two days before getting back into it,” she cuts him off, “yes but not with that kind of bang and not the father of my child,” at that, he grins.

“Yeah, she's definitely a keeper,” he murmurs, then says to my girl, because she is mine, “Would it make you feel better if we get him a full workup when we return to New York?”

I sigh, knowing she’ll want me to take the tests, and I really can’t say no.

My dad raises a brow with a smile, but I shrug and say, “I’ll do all the tests so Pen’s mind is at ease while I’m on the ice.” Eddie nods, while Pen sniffles, and I look at the phone with concern.

“Okay, let’s get the checks done, Eddie, so we can get Tay back to the hotel. Then he can Facetime his girl, and she can see he is, in fact, alright,” Ezra says, and I nod, liking that idea a lot.

I groan as I lay on the hotel bed, grab my phone, quickly plug it in, bring up Pen’s number, and press the video link.

When we were leaving the rink, I promised I’d call as soon as we got back to the hotel, and fuck, she sobbed her heart out, and I fucking hated it.

Being in Vancouver while she’s in Brooklyn when she’s struggling with her emotions is fucking hard. I just want to hold her close.

“Hey,” she rasps as her beautiful face fills my screen.

Her eyes are red, including her nose, while her hair is up in a messy knot, but what gets my attention, what makes my heart fucking lift, is the shirt she’s wearing, the one I wore the night we met but haven’t been able to find.

“I’ve been looking for that shirt,” I say lowly as I get comfy on the bed, putting my back up against the cream headboard.

She sniffs, then says, “And you are not getting it back, finders keepers.”

I grin and ask, “Even if it was at my place when it went missing?”

She smiles slyly, then shrugs and says, “I don’t know what you are talking about,” making me chuckle.

The smile on her face disappears as she takes in my face, the big fucking bruise on my jaw and head and worry etches off her.

“Where’s our boy?” I ask, hoping to distract her.

She doesn’t answer me for a moment, her eyes taking in my features before she turns the camera to the bedside bassinet attached to her bed, where our boy sleeps wearing a Red Lion onesie. I grin as she puts the camera back on me.

“Dad got it for him,” she admits, and I nod, knowing how much of an amazing grandfather her dad is despite him being a shitty father.

The door to my room opens, and I look up to see Ezra walk in. He gives me a head nod, confirming that my sister is safe in her room with Kaylah. Then he goes into the bathroom, I look back at Pen, who is still looking over my features with concern.

“Ezra is going to keep an eye on me tonight, Firecracker, so don’t worry and my mom will most likely call him several times,” I reassure her as Ezra comes back out of the bathroom and sits on his bed.

Pen’s eyes tear up again, and I can’t help but comment, “For someone who is adamant we should be friends, you are showing a lot of emotion.”

She sniffles and lies, “It’s hormones,” Ezra hears her and chuckles under his breath.

I get serious, though, and state, “You can’t use hormones anymore, baby. Tonight, you showed me and my family exactly how you feel about me, and it’s okay if you’re not ready to admit to them. Just know I’ll be right here waiting for when you are ready, and once you do admit them, I won’t ever let you go.”

Her tears falls and she wipes her cheeks and instead of commenting or lying about my statement she instead shows me and my best friend the love she has for me when she asks, “Can we stay on the phone?”

I nod, and rasp, “Anything for you,” With that, more tears fall down her cheeks.

She sniffles, places her phone on her side table, plugs it in, and lies down on her bed, the dark blue sheets surrounding her.

I can see our son sleeping peacefully as my girl gets comfy and then looks at the screen.

“I’m right here, Firecracker. Close your eyes,” I murmur, and she sniffles again before doing as I say. Within minutes, she’s asleep, the evening catching up with her, and fuck me am I glad she’s off tomorrow.

“Is she asleep?” Ezra asks, I nod as I put the mic on mute so we won’t wake her.

“Yeah, this evening has completely torn her emotions apart,” I admit.

He sighs, “I should have just fucking answered your phone, but we were all too concerned for you, and now I’m regretting it, and so is your family,” I look at him to see him run his hand through his hair before tying it up and he groans before he continues, “Her fucking sobs gutted me so God knows how they felt for you.”

I look at the screen and watch as my family sleeps peacefully, and I admit, “I felt like I was being suffocated. Over the months, when we tried finding her, honestly, I thought it was all over lust at first, but the longer it took to find her, the harder it got to function. Then, seeing her again, I realized,” I look at my best friend and admit, “She’s my home.”

His jaw ticks at my admittance, and he promises, “If anything like this happens again, whether she’s in the rink or across the state, I’ll ensure she’s put first. Dylan has said the same.”

I nod and look back at the screen again, and he says, “Don’t ever fucking let her go,” and I murmur, “I don’t plan to.”

And I mean it, I’ll never let this girl go again.