Page 19 of Leave Me Not: Nick & Elissa #2 (Badger Creek Duet #8)
19
NICK
M y phone pings with another text and if I thought I was frustrated before, it only magnifies when I read the message.
Lis: I felt the baby move tonight!!!
I want to be excited, and I absolutely am, but I also really want to be there with her. I want to feel our baby move; I want to rest my hand on her stomach, beside hers and feel it together. I fucking hate that I am already missing out on this stuff.
But I know it’s also really cool and Lis will be excited and happy by it, and that does make me happy.
Me: Holy shit! That is so cool. I’m gonna need baby to move when you come visit too.
Lis: I’m sure we can make it happen. I wish you were here to feel this.
Me: Me too, babe, so bad.
The chat goes quiet and for a few minutes as I wait, I actually contemplate booking a flight home for the weekend. I don’t even give a shit how much it costs; I just want to see her, just want to be with her.
I have no fucking idea how I went four years without Lis, because it has only been a week since I left and it already feels agonizing. And I know I only have one more week until she gets here, but I’m already over this separation. Plus, my knee is fucking killing me and all I want to do is go home to Badger Creek and be with her.
Lis: Only 7 more days.
I blow out a breath, knowing I can’t just up and leave this weekend, as much as I might want to. And even though the next seven days are going to feel like seven years, I need to stick it out. If only to ensure that when I do finally get out of my contract, that it goes as smoothly as possible.
I wasn’t lying when I told Lis that shit feels weird around here. With the two missing guys from the team, the coach continuously pushing me to jump more and now the doctor wants to give me these injections. It all just feels off.
I send Lis one more text, knowing there is nothing I can do about any of it right now.
Me: I am literally counting down the seconds until I get to see you again. Love you.
The next few days pass much the same as the rest. The coach keeps me out on the slopes, running the slalom track in the mornings and jumping in the afternoons. The doctor keeps wanting me to get the injections too and I keep being fucking miserable here. Oh, and my knee continues to hurt, no matter how much I ice it.
“Dude, you okay?” Brad, my teammate asks, walking over to where I stand at the end of the track.
“Fucking knee hurts,” I reply as I click off my skis, grateful the day is over. I never thought there would come a time when I would be glad to take my skis off.
“You seeing the doc?” he asks, a worried look on his face.
“Yeah,” I say, blowing out a breath as we both make our way over to the storage area to drop off our skis and shit. “Not that it’s helping much. He’s basically cleared me to keep jumping and just wants to give me some injections.”
We both hand over our gear, before making our way over to the accommodation building. This whole complex is kind of a cross between a college campus and an amazing sports training facility. Only slightly better because all of our rooms have their own bathroom and kitchen area, but we also have access to a cafeteria if we don’t want to cook. Not to mention the gym, the pool and sauna and more.
“You don’t want the injections?” Brad asks as we go inside and head up to our rooms.
Shrugging, I say, “I don’t know. No. I guess it just feels wrong you know. Like if it’s still hurting, why am I back to jumping?” My phone pings in my pocket with an incoming text that I know will be from Lis.
Lis: Hey! Just having dinner with Harper, can I call you a bit later when done? Maybe a couple of hours?
“Let me guess, your wife and your nightly phone call?” Brad asks, a smile on his face because he likes giving me shit about the fact that I somehow managed to fuck my knee, marry my ex-girlfriend and get her pregnant in the space of a few months.
“Yes, it’s her, but she’s actually heading out, so maybe later,” I admit, as I type out a quick response to her.
“Cool, let’s go get a beer then,” he says, slapping me on the back. “I kinda feel like you need one.”
After we shower and change, I meet Brad downstairs. He’s one of the few guys who bothered to buy a car when he got here and I have to admit, it helps when you want to leave this place. I never bothered because I figured we’d be traveling so much, what’s the point, but right now, I’m grateful.
“So, what are you gonna do about your knee?” Brad now asks as we settle into a booth in the town’s one and only Irish pub.
“Fuck, I don’t know,” I admit. “I just…it just doesn’t make sense that they’d be pushing me to jump if I shouldn’t, you know.”
“I agree,” he says, nodding in acknowledgement as our beers arrive. “Why would they risk you like that?”
I take a sip of the cold liquid. “Because I’m a great fucking jumper,” I tell him, brow raised.
Brad laughs, holding his glass up to me. “That you are, but it still doesn’t make sense. Why risk injury right before the Olympics? Or with all the meets leading up to that. You know, Worlds are coming up soon?”
I nod, swallowing another mouthful of my beer before sinking back in the bench seat. “Do you know what happened to Stefan and Craig?” I ask, knowing that none of the other jumpers on the team will tell me about my missing teammates, but maybe Brad will. He shrugs, feigning ignorance, but there’s a look on his face that tells me he knows more than he’s letting on. “Dude, come on,” I say, twirling a finger in the air. “Cone of silence here.”
He blows out a long breath before taking another sip of his beer, his gaze on his glass. “So I don’t know the full story, but you know how Stefan broke his arm just before you left?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, apparently your coach was pushing him to keep jumping with his cast on. Said it shouldn’t matter because he doesn’t land on his arms.”
“Fucking hell,” I say, scrubbing my hand across my jaw. “Yeah, but if he messed up and landed wrong it could…”
Brad lifts his gaze, his eyes meeting mine with a knowing look. “Exactly.”
“So what, he quit?”
He gives me another shrug. “Not sure exactly, but that’s the rumor. Refused to do it, so quit, got kicked out, who knows. Craig got injured while you were back home, and no one knows where he’s gone. Maybe same thing?”
“I mean,” I start, more confused than ever. “Why would the coach do that? He says he’d never risk us injuring ourselves or not being ready for a meet, it just doesn’t?—”
“Make sense?” Brad says, finishing my thought.
“No, it really doesn’t,” I reply, shaking my head. “Maybe I should call them?”
“Angie already called Stefan,” he says, and of course she would have, she’s his sort of girlfriend, sort of hook-up. “He just said he can’t talk about it because of the NDA and that’s all she knows. It’s caused some friction with them apparently.”
“Seriously?” I ask, surprised Stefan wouldn’t talk to her. “And is it not really fucking weird that we even sign NDAs. I mean what the hell is there to hide?”
“Coaching practices, tactics,” he suggests with a tilt of his head. “Who knows.”
I feel even more confused than before, having no clue what happened to my two teammates or the real reason for why we have to sign an NDA when we join the team. At the time I joined, I didn’t even really think about it, it was just another piece of paperwork in an already growing pile.
I’d had a lawyer look over it all, but it wasn’t someone I knew very well and fuck, maybe they weren’t even that good. Maybe they didn’t give a shit.
I make a mental note to send my NDA to Jeff Holden in case that gives the lawyer any extra information that can get me the fuck out of here and back home to Badger Creek.
“Anyway,” Brad says, interrupting my thoughts. “Enough about all the cloak and dagger shit, you looking forward to your girl coming to visit?”
When I wake Thursday morning, my knee hurts so bad, I consider digging out the painkillers I got after my surgery. I never finished them, but I do remember them being strong. Certainly better than the Tylenol I’ve been taking since I came back.
At this point I’m even considering the injection the team doc keeps pressuring me to have, which is how I find myself outside his office after I finish my morning jumps.
“Nick, hey, what can I do for you?” he asks, when I’m finally called into his room.
I take a seat, stretching my leg out in front of me, wincing as a pain shoots out of my knee. “Not gonna lie, doc, my knee feels like it’s getting worse.”
He rests his elbows on his desk, leaning forward a little with a sympathetic smile. “The cortisone injection will fix that.”
I force myself not to react as I ask, “Yeah, but isn’t that just a band-aid?” I ask. “And maybe we need to address whatever’s really going on?”
He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches me from behind his desk. I’m not sure if I’ve just put my foot in it a little by questioning his competence but fuck it. I’m tired of all this bullshit and I’m really fucking tired of my knee hurting and no one seeming to give a shit about it.
“You think something else is going on?” he finally asks.
“I don’t know, yeah,” I admit. “Why else would it be hurting so bad?”
He tilts his head to the side, his smile widening a little. “Well, you haven’t exactly been using it these past few weeks, have you?” he asks. “Your body is just adjusting, remembering what it’s like to be on skis again. A bit of pain is normal, Nick and I promise you, these injections will help with that.”
I shove a hand through my hair as a weird feeling settles in my stomach. It suddenly feels like I can’t trust anything this guy is saying to me. “Can I at least get some more scans?” I ask.
“More scans?” he repeats and again it feels like he thinks I’m questioning his judgment.
“Just to make sure,” I say. “After that, I’ll reconsider the injection.”
That second part is a lie because I already know I’m not having the injection. I don’t want to mask this fucking pain. I want to fix it. I want to know my knee is stable and it’s safe for me to be back out on the slopes. Not risk more injury or worse because I’m simply hiding the pain and the real problem with some drugs.
The doctor turns to his computer screen and what I assume is my file that’s open. I watch as he types in a few things, before his printer suddenly churns to life, spitting out a sheet of paper. He grabs it, signing across the bottom before sliding it across his desk toward me.
“Head down for an MRI,” he says, his smile gone now. “I know what it’s going to say and afterward, you’ll be back here for the injection.”
I take the piece of paper before he can change his mind about this. “Next week yeah,” I say. “I’ve got the weekend off, so I’ll be back next week.”
He smiles again, but it feels insincere and wrong now. “We’re all here to help you, Nick,” he says, standing. “Remember that.”
After my scan, I head back to my room, knowing it’s only one more sleep until Lis gets here. As shit as everything is that’s going on here, I cannot fucking wait to see her again. As I tidy up my room a little, my still unpacked bag lying on the floor, my phone pings with a text.
Coach: Scan was all clear. Get the injection Nick and let’s get you jumping. We still have that triple kicker to practice.
All clear? Is he fucking joking? He’s not even a doctor and I literally only had it done a couple of hours ago, how can he know the result already? I mean I know we have an awesome medical facility here, but this seems really quick.
I throw my phone onto my bed with a curse, not bothering to respond because really, what the fuck is there to say? Besides which, I’m way too angry right now and I feel like anything I type back would not be good.
God fuck, I want to go home, I think as a knock sounds at my door.
It’s almost ten and I have no idea who it could be. For a second, I worry that it’s my coach, but when a second knock comes, I suck in a deep breath and answer it.
Only to discover it’s not my coach.
It’s not even one of my teammates.
It’s literally the one thing in the world I need right now. The one thing that can and does make everything a million times better.
“Surprise,” Lis says, a half-smile on her face. “I got an earlier flight.”
“Fuck, babe,” I groan, pulling her into my arms. “I am so glad to see you.”