Page 22 of Leave Me Not: Nick & Elissa #2 (Badger Creek Duet #8)

22

ELISSA

T he weekend with Nick goes by in a blink and before I know it, I’m back in Badger Creek, sitting at my desk in my little office in the ski lodge. It’s early, the best time to get work done before the mountain opens. With no one to bother me and without complaints from tourists, I can crank through the work I missed while I was gone.

The problem is my focus is shit. I can’t stop thinking about Nick and his teammate that was hurt while we were there. It was an absolute nightmare watching him be carted off on a stretcher and put into the back of that ambulance, and even though we weren’t there much longer, it’s burned into my brain.

All of that could easily happen to Nick with him jumping on a knee that isn’t fully healed. I have zero trust in the team doctor or Nick’s coach to protect him, but that puts Nick into a situation neither of us want to deal with.

He will have to argue his reasons for not jumping. His coach will disagree, and the doctor will say he’s been cleared. All of this will result in the coach aggressively reminding Nick he’s under contract, and he will owe a hell of a lot of money if he’s not out there.

But at this point, it’s a risk Nick and I are willing to take. We have to protect his health and his life from ending up like his teammate.

Before I left, Nick scheduled an appointment with his surgeon, but that’s not something that will happen immediately. His surgeon isn’t available to meet with him for two weeks, but he did send an order for an MRI, so he has that ready when they do meet.

It’s something.

But again, it doesn’t solve the problem, and right now, I’m sure Nick is out on the platform with his coach barking orders at him to jump. I don’t know how else he would get around it. It is what it is, and I hate that.

I begin to approve the staffs’ hours from the last two weeks, verifying with the schedule and the computer system. It’s a long process and as I go through each staff member, I find my mind wandering. I can’t stop picturing the fall.

I’ve been a skier since I was six years old, and I’ve seen some nasty falls, especially as a downhill racer, but I’ve never seen anything like I saw over the weekend.

While I was never a jumper, I was around enough of them to know what causes a fall like that. It’s not just that the jump was difficult; it’s more than that.

To lose the ground and come apart in the air like that is from lack of skill, which isn’t even possible in this situation. The guy made the damn US team. His skills on the slopes are in the top one percent of the world.

It could be caused by anxiety or fear, but again, that rarely happens to professionals. I would hope Nick’s teammates would have noticed the change in their friend and said something, but who knows. The bigger issue, the one I can’t get out of my head, is that a fall like that, the way he wasn’t able to focus in the air, is almost always caused by a head injury.

I can only speculate, and it’s nothing I said out loud to Nick because it is all hitting too close to home. A fall while jumping or skiing can lead to a traumatic brain injury, or worse a spinal cord injury, both things that can change someone’s life permanently.

I let my head drop into my hands, trying to shake off the thoughts, but they just won’t leave. I can picture Nick on that platform, waiting to jump, his coach fired up. I can see his knee giving out on a landing and his body tumbling, possibly crashing into a barrier.

“Fuck,” I mutter, tears filling my eyes.

A soft knock comes on my door, and before I can say come in, Zoey walks through the doorway. There’s a smile on her face and her long blonde hair is braided and hanging over one shoulder. She’s really driving home the point that Sammie thinks she looks like a character from her favorite movie.

“Hey,” she says, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from me. “How was your visit with Nick? How’s he doing?”

She obviously knows about everything that’s going on. We’ve hired the lawyer from her family business, and her brother and Nick are best friends. Zoey and I have known each other since we were kids, and there isn’t much we don’t know about each other’s lives.

“I don’t know,” I say, blinking back the tears. “He can’t get in to see his surgeon for two weeks, so I’m sure he’s out there jumping right now.”

“Maybe not,” Zoey suggests. “He’s pretty stubborn, and I don’t think he would want to risk getting hurt, especially with the baby coming and everything.”

We both fall silent for a few seconds, and I struggle to keep my fears to myself. I need to tell someone what happened even if Zoey can’t help. Just getting it out might be good. Plus, Zoey understands skiing and jumping. She’ll get how serious the fall was.

“So while I was there visiting, one of Nick’s teammates had a horrible fall,” I start, again my head filled with images of his body being tossed around like a ragdoll. “Zoey, I’ve never seen anything like it. You know we’ve been on the slopes since we were kids, but this was next level. Something went wrong.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, concern blanketing her words. Her brows are furrowed as she waits for me to answer, and I can see she’s processing it all. She’s wondering about Nick just like I’ve been.

“He lost the ground, Zoey. He had the jump. It was solid and his body was in line and then all of a sudden, he unfolded in the air.” I shrug, swallowing hard, again, my brain replaying it.

“Holy shit,” she whispers, and I knew she would understand all of this. “He lost the ground, huh? Head injury?” she now asks, and I point at her, my eyes wide at her admission.

“That was my thought exactly. There was no reason for it to happen unless he already had a head injury. The coach is so sketchy, obviously, we’re working with the Holden lawyer, but he had to have had a concussion prior to that jump.” It all comes out very quickly, but it feels good to have Zoey back me on this. She gets it, and now I don’t feel at all like I’m overreacting.

“Was he okay?” she now asks.

“Honestly, I don’t know. He was taken away in an ambulance, but the coach didn’t even want to call the medic. He kept yelling at the guy to get up.”

Now it’s Zoey’s eyes that are wide, fear washing over her. As skiers we know how important it is to get medical treatment when you have a fall. You don’t have to be knocked out to have a concussion and skiing with one is incredibly dangerous. It throws off your balance, making it almost impossible to ski safely, let alone jump.

“And Nick’s out there today?” she asks, her words quiet.

“He is, but I have no idea if he’s jumping. We talked about it, but what’s he supposed to do? It’s his job and the coach just doesn’t seem to give a shit if his athletes get hurt.”

I look down at my watch, checking the time and realizing it’s still early so there’s hope that he isn’t even up yet. He has weight training in the mornings from what I remember of his schedule. That’s the only thing that is keeping me from losing my shit and calling him, begging him to not jump.

“I think there’s something going on with the team doctor and the coach,” I admit. “It feels off. There must be some kind of payoff to keep these athletes jumping while injured.” I shake my head, feeling silly for thinking it, but it really does feel that way.

“You really think so?” Zoey says, but it’s not the kind of question that is asked because she thinks my comment is stupid.

“I do.”

“Then you need to do something about it,” she asserts. “If there is some kind of blackmail situation or the coach and doctor are putting the athletes at risk, people need to know. Think about it, Elissa. Nick is dealing with the threat of being sued for breaking his contract, then other people are too.”

“And they’re all in the same situation as Nick. They probably don’t have the money to buy out their contract. They feel like they don’t have any way out other than just doing what they’re told.” I say it, but it’s like I’m saying it out loud to process it all.

Zoey is right. I do need to do something, but what? I have no power over that coach or the doctor. I only know Nick’s situation and the coach thinks he’s just some quitter who wants to be home with his wife and baby.

“But there’s that guy who was injured,” Zoey adds. “He’s the one who could blow the top off the whole thing. I mean, we sound like amateur investigators, but I’m serious. If you think something is wrong, then it probably is.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do? Tell the US team committee that I have a ‘feeling’ something isn’t right?” I question, shrugging. “They don’t know me and even if I could file a complaint or whatever, I’m not an athlete.”

“Yeah, but Nick is. You need to talk to him and have him figure out who he can file the complaint with,” Zoey tells me. “And you know what else you could do?” she adds, her voice going up a few octaves.

“What?”

“You should reach out to that journalist that did the whole spread on Badger Creek when we did the renovations. Remember her? She interviewed you regarding updating the ski lodge. She’d love a story like this. She’s freelance too, so I’m sure she’s looking for something to put her on the map,” Zoey says, the excitement filling the room.

Zoey’s idea just might work. When I did the interview with her and she wrote the article, she did say that while she enjoys getting to travel around and do write-ups on travel destinations, she always wanted to write something with more substance.

“Ethan and I will pay her,” Zoey quickly chimes in.

“No way. I can’t ask you to do that,” I reply, shaking my head. Zoey might be one of my closest friends, but I’ve never gone to her for money and I’m not going to start now.

“You didn’t ask. I offered,” Zoey replies sharply. “She’s going to need some capital up front to begin her research. Why don’t you reach out to her and see if she’s interested.”

I think about it for a few seconds, not wanting to put Zoey or Ethan in a place where I have to ask them for money. I never want to rely on anyone else, but this could be the thing that saves Nick.

“Stop thinking about it,” Zoey quips, laughing a little. “I offered, Elissa. You and Nick are like family, you know that.”

I nod a little. She’s right. I consider Zoey my family too. She’s the sister I never had, and I’d do the same thing to help her if she needed it.

“Okay, I’ll contact the journalist and see if she’s interested in pursuing the story. She could say no,” I say, but in the back of my mind, I hope she doesn’t.

“And, have Nick file a complaint with HR or whoever takes complaints for the athletes,” she adds, and I make a mental list of things that could also help him.

“I’m going to guess there’s going to be some retaliation or someone who tries to get him to retract the complaint, don’t you think?” I ask Zoey.

“Oh, for sure, but nothing gets accomplished by standing still,” she says, and Zoey has always been a go-getter. It’s what landed her the management job here at Badger Creek, wanting to distance herself from the Holden name.

“Thanks, Zoey,” I say, as she stands up to leave my office.

“Of course. I’m always here to help, and I know Ethan will be as invested too. I just hope we can help Nick get back here.”

As soon as Zoey leaves my office, I begin rifling through my desk for the card the journalist gave me. I remember dropping it in the drawer, thinking why I would ever need it, but here I am.

I shuffle through a bunch of crap that I said I’d file, but didn’t, and eventually come across her card. It’s tucked between two brochure examples I had printed up, and I toss them in the trash. If the only good thing that comes out of this is that I get my desk somewhat cleaned out, I can call it a small win. Although, I really hope more comes out of it than that.

I look at her name printed on the card, and under it, it says, freelance journalist. Maybe she likes the simple life of visiting resorts and giving her opinion or maybe she’s looking for more.

Picking up the phone, I dial her number, my heart racing at the idea of sharing this with someone outside of mine and Nick’s circle of friends. I hope she doesn’t think I’m crazy, but even if she does, maybe it will get her talking to other people. Gossip spreads like wildfire.

“Gemma Williams,” the voice on the phone says, cheerful and welcoming.

“Hi, Gemma, this is Elissa Green from the Badger Creek Ski Lodge. You did a piece about the renovations here a little while back.”

“Oh, yes, I remember. How are you?” she asks, a politeness to her words that makes me feel comfortable enough to just come out and ask it.

“How’d you like to do a piece on the US ski jumping team?” I ask. “I think I have a story for you that could be huge.”

“I’m listening,” she instantly replies, and I begin to unload it all on her.

Here goes nothing.