Page 12

CHAPTER ELEVEN

NASH

“ N ash, net! Net!”

I glance across the ice to where Carson’s skating along the boards. A defenseman is coming directly at him and he quickly sends the puck to me. The pass is effortless and I receive it with the toe of my stick just as I’m nearing the net. The goalie gets into position. I move to the right and he shifts with me. He’s not anticipating my movements and he drops down just as I quickly divert to the left and send the puck soaring into the net with a backhanded shot.

“Fuck yes!”

Carson crashes into me, his hand hitting the top of my helmet. “That’s my fucking Nashy boy!”

The rest of my linemen rush over to me, everyone celebrating my goal before I head over to the bench and skate past the rest of the guys, my glove hitting each of theirs. I move to the door and let myself in as we change shifts.

Coach Landry gives me a nod, his face as straight as always, but I don’t miss the way he holds back a smile. It was a nice goal, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how pretty the shot is. A goal is a goal and we need as many as we can to seal the deal. Hockey is way too fast and too competitive of a sport to get comfortable and complacent. That’s when things always seem to shift and go downhill.

We finish out the rest of the period with a two-goal lead before heading back into the dressing room. We all find our spots and sit down on the benches. I untie my skates, letting my feet breathe before I start to do a few stretches. A few of the guys eat a quick snack as Caleb, our captain, starts to talk, along with our coaches.

They go over some plays, Caleb gives us all a pep talk, and it isn’t long before we’re all heading back out to the bench for the last period. Our first line heads out, the puck drops, and play begins again. Sitting on the bench, I lean against the boards, watching everything happening on the ice. The first shift ends and Carson and I head out right after one another.

I skate past Rowan and his face is all business as he watches the play moving back into the neutral zone. I follow along, staying on my side as the puck gets turned over and play heads back into our defensive zone. Our defensemen make their way closer to the net, giving Rowan the backup he needs. The puck moves along the boards, moving behind the net before it ends up heading in my direction.

My feet move and I head toward it, attempting to take possession of it, but their winger pushes me against the boards as we both fight for it. He digs, pushing me harder against the boards, trapping my stick so I have no way to efficiently win the battle. He regains possession and sends it back across the ice to one of their players.

I move into a defensive position and just as I’m inching closer to the net, the other player hits a slapshot, sending it zipping through the air and landing directly into my ankle bone. Pain erupts along the bone and it takes everything in me to not drop to the ice. My vision blurs and I struggle against the searing heat at the base of my leg, but I can’t get out of position.

I can’t get off the ice, not now when they’re in our defensive zone. The adrenaline in my body kicks into overdrive and I push through the pain, although I have no idea what the fuck is actually going on around me. My legs move on autopilot and as soon as play moves back down the ice, I head to the bench, half limping.

“Are you good to keep playing?”

I look at the equipment manager, my ankle fucking throbbing as I attempt to put all my weight on that foot. “I don’t fucking know. I need a minute.”

“Get Simmons back there now!” Coach Landry barks from where he’s standing.

The assistant equipment manager slides his arm around my back to give me extra support as we head down the tunnel. He gets me into the doctors’ room and both doctors step inside the space. It’s a whirlwind of activity as they pull off my skate, along with my sock, to inspect the area. It’s already starting to swell and my skin looks fucking angry.

The poking and prodding send my senses into a spiral of pain.

“We need to get X-rays. It may be broken and I don’t think he should play until we know for sure.”

I shake my head, gritting my teeth. “I can get through the rest of the period. It will be fine.”

Hockey is a sport where you cannot afford to get hurt. There’s always someone who is waiting to fill your position. It doesn’t take much for a career to end. Injured players are liabilities and once you start getting injured, you start to become more prone to it happening.

“We can’t let you go back out,” Dr. Forge says with a stern look on his face.

“You could do more damage,” Liam, one of the assistant coaches, adds, equally not pleased with the idea of me heading back to the game. “Get changed and we’ll get you back to your room and someone will have you on the next flight home so we can get medical imaging done and see what happens next.”

Liam helps me out of the room and we head back to the dressing room. I try to push him away and hobble over to my spot on the bench, dropping down in a rush. He gives me a look, almost like he doesn’t know what the hell he’s supposed to do next. Ignoring him, I drop my face into my hands, feeling the anger and despair engulfing me all at once.

“Fuck!”

***

“What did the doctors say?” Lincoln asks me as he takes a sip of his water bottle and tilts his head to the side. “Do they think you’ll be able to play?”

I shake my head at him. “I’m flying home tomorrow morning. They want me to get imaging done and they’ll figure out what happens next.”

“Shit. This isn’t good,” Carson chimes in, his lips pursing as his nostrils flare.

“It’s not ideal, but it’s for the best,” Caleb says, nodding his head. Leave it to him to always be the levelheaded one who views things logically instead of emotionally. “The last thing we need is for you to be on the ice and fuck it up worse.”

“Yeah, if that happens, then we’re really fucked,” Rowan says, nodding along with Caleb. “We can’t afford to have you out even longer.”

I let out an exasperated sigh, settling into the bed as I feel the pain medication swirling around in my brain. My lips part, my jaw expanding as a yawn takes over me. The pain is still lingering but the pills they gave me have definitely taken the edge off.

“I’ll see if Nova can pick you up tomorrow,” Lincoln says, motioning to my leg. “You probably shouldn’t be driving.”

“I can drive with my left foot instead.”

Caleb gives me a look that makes me reconsider. “So you can fuck that up even worse once you’re home?” He looks at Lincoln. “Call your sister. If she can’t, we’ll figure something out.”

“Jesus, you guys are ridiculous.”

“Nah, we just love ya, bud.” Carson smirks as he rubs the top of my head playfully. “Come on, guys, we should let him get some rest.”

“If you need anything, you call one of us,” Caleb tells me, his eyes burning holes into my face. “Is someone going to take you to the airport tomorrow?”

I give him a look. “Yes, mother. They have it all arranged.”

“Good,” he says with a nod before he motions for his brother and Rowan to follow him out of my room.

Lincoln is the last one left. “I’ll text you when I hear from Nova.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Of course.” He smiles and nods. “That’s what family is for.”

Lincoln leaves the room after the rest of the guys do, leaving me alone with my own fucking feelings. It’s not something I particularly care for, but what else can I do? My feelings are pretty dull and numb right now, so I sink deeper into them as I scroll through the channels on the TV before settling on another show.

I’m not sure how much time has passed since the guys left, but my eyelids are progressively growing heavier. I feel them beginning to close just as my phone vibrates on the bed beside me. I glance at it, feeling the urge to ignore it, but decide against it and lift it up. Closing one eye, I force the other to focus before I’m able to look at it with both of my eyes.

I was expecting it to be Lincoln, but it’s not him. My heart skips over itself, butterflies fluttering in my stomach when I see her name.

Riley

Nash. Are you okay?

Nash

I’m okay. How are you feeling, mama?

Riley

We’re not talking about me. Why are you coming home early? What happened? I saw you leave the game early in the third period but I missed whatever happened.

A smile pulls on my lips as I read over what she said again.

Nash

You were watching?

Riley

I always watch.

That’s beside the point. Nova said it’s your ankle.

Nash

Yeah, I took a clapper straight to my ankle. They’re hoping it’s not broken but won’t know until they do imaging.

Riley

What time does your flight get in? I’ll pick you up at the airport.

Nash

You don’t need to do that.

Riley

Yes, I do.

Nash

Lincoln was going to see if Nova could.

Riley

Nash, stop arguing with me and tell me what time.

Nash

11 a.m.

Riley

Okay. I’ll be waiting for you when you land.

I’m fighting against the drowsiness from my medicine that is trying to pull me into a deep slumber. My eyelids feel like there’s a ton of bricks weighing them down, but goddammit, I want to talk to her.

Nash

I’m glad it’s you who’s picking me up.

Riley

Are you?

Nash

I am.

I don’t like not being able to see you or talk to you.

Riley

You can always talk to me whenever you want.

Nash

Not in the way I want to.

She doesn’t respond at first and there’s instant regret on my end for sending that message. The meds have me feeling a little careless and a little bold.

Riley

What do you mean?

Nash

You’re my wife and I can’t even talk to you like you are.

Riley

You can always talk to me like your friend.

I sigh as I read over her message, feeling a bit defeated and annoyed at the reminder. That’s what it always comes down to and I’m tired of it.

I’m tired of just being her friend…