Page 1

Four and a half years ago...

"You're welcome, little bro." I smile, dropping the keys into the palm of his hand.

"Cash, what the hell is going on?" Cory asks, raising a skeptical brow. "This better not be what I think it is."

I laugh.

He would never have accepted if I'd warned my brother that I was buying him a new pickup truck. That's why I have to surprise him.

From the time we were kids, I promised him that once I signed my first professional hockey contract, I would buy him his dream truck.

And it's already been six months since I signed my three-year, fifteen million-dollar deal with the Santa Anna Tornadoes.

"I don't make promises I can't keep, Cory. You know that." I pat him on the back.

Living in California and playing for the Tornadoes keeps me busy. I have limited time to visit my family and friends in Thompson, Newfoundland. It's almost a miracle the team has a whole weekend off. Finally, my chance to come home to Canada and honour my promise.

Besides, the rusty old car Cory's been driving since the day he turned sixteen is a piece of shit.

"You coming home for a visit is enough of a gift, Cash. You didn't have to do this..." His voice trails off, and his eyes become teary.

"I wouldn't have made it anywhere if it weren't for you." I grip his shoulders and lock my eyes with his to let him know I mean it.

I hear the sound of a door closing and the shuffling of feet, and I shift my gaze upward to see our mother walking down the stairs.

"Cash! Welcome home." She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek. "I'm so happy you arrived safe and sound. How was your flight?"

I kiss her forehead. "It was good, Ma."

"Is this thing outside?" Cory asks, dangling the keys in front of my face.

"What thing?" my mother asks innocently, but she gives me a knowing smile.

I called her from the airport last night before I boarded the red-eye. I gave her a heads-up about my arrival. I ended up caving and told her what I'd bought for Cory.

"Oh, you mean that shiny brand new white truck parked in the driveway?" she says.

"You knew!" Cory shouts, nudging her on the shoulder, and then he looks at me. "Cash, you are crazy!"

"Anything for my little bro. Besides, you haven't even seen it yet. Come on." I grab him by the arm and push open the screen door. He stops in mid-stride. I have to jerk my head back to see him frozen in place, gawking at his truck.

"Holy fuck," Cory breathes out.

"It's all yours, man," I tell him.

"Cash, this is too much. This truck is top-of-the-line. Leather seats and everything!" He shakes his head. "You worked hard your whole life to make it to the NHL. You shouldn't be spending your money on me. I can't accept it."

"I love you. You're my little brother." I hug him and pull open the driver-side door. "Come on. Hop in and check it out."

I look back at my mother, smiling, watching us from the front porch. Her wavy honey-blonde hair blows gently in the wind as she pulls her sweater tightly across her chest. "You like it, Cory?".

"Like it?" Cory puts the key in the ignition. "I love it!"

"Cash?...Cory?..." Daniela's familiar voice shouts from across the driveway.

Daniela is Cory's fiancé and our next-door neighbour. When Daniela and her mother relocated to Thompson and moved in next door, Cory was smitten with her. They were always just friends, but he finally grew enough balls to ask her on an actual date in the seventh grade. They've been together ever since.

She jogs across the driveway wearing Sorel boots and a winter jacket. Her cheeks are flush, and her strawberry-blonde ponytail bounces with every step. "Is that seriously a brand-new truck? We can't afford that, Cory!" she scolds.

"Cash bought it for me...for us," Cory says.

Of course, he would turn his gift into their gift. He is the most selfless person I know.

"Wow. This truck is amazing!" Daniela gushes. "Thanks, Cash! This truck is so much nicer than Cory's rusty old car."

"Hop in," Cory encourages her, and without hesitation, she slides into the passenger seat. She leans over and kisses his cheek. "Get closer, babe," he says, and she does. He drapes his arm along the back seat, and she snuggles beside him.

I've always thought Cory was utterly crazy for committing to one girl at a young age, but my mother calls it true love. Something I'm sure I'll never find.

"You two look so adorable," my mother says.

"Thanks, Mama B," Daniela smiles.

Over the years, Daniela has become the daughter my mother never had. With me not being in Thompson as often as I'd like, it's nice to know my mother has Daniela watching over her and keeping her company.

"This is way too much, Cash." Cory pipes up.

"Just think of it as a late engagement present," I tease them.

"If this is our engagement present, I can't imagine what our wedding present will be," Daniela says with a laugh.

"How about any house you guys want?"

Cory chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "Yeah, okay, Cash."

Little does he know, I'm dead serious.

"Are you going to come for the ride?" he says out the window. "We're going on a little cruise, but I have to drive Daniela to the dance studio afterward. She teaches a class later."

"Nah, just make sure you're back for tonight. We're going out with Jake and the boys," I remind him.

"You boys better not get into trouble tonight," my mother says.

"We'll be good. I promise," I assure her.

As I look around at my mother, Cory, and Daniela, nothing feels better than coming home and seeing the people who keep me grounded.

My life as a professional hockey player is fast-paced and full of teammates, fans, and a parade of puck bunnies.

Between daily practices and being on the road every other weekend, I can barely remember the last time I was home.

I especially cherish the time spent with my mother.

The guilt of leaving her behind in Newfoundland for the NHL has always weighed on my conscience.

Knowing she has suffered and survived cancer always makes it hard to say goodbye when I must leave again.

I can't help but worry that once I go, it may be the last time I'll see her happy and healthy.

"Don't worry, Cash. I'll be back," Cory shouts over the purring engine. Within seconds, they are halfway down the snowy driveway.

_________

"Come on, Brooks, shoot another one," my buddy Jake yells over classic rock blaring from the bar's jukebox in the back corner.

Man, I love being back in my small Newfoundland hometown.

I love breathing in the cold East Coast air, surrounded by warm, friendly, familiar people, walking quiet, snowy streets, and admiring the rolling landscape.

Plus, I can't forget the bars. They are all dingy and dank pieces of shit, but I love them.

"He's too much of a pussy now that he's playing professional hockey." Cory laughs like a smart-ass.

"Fuck you, Cory," I slur, slamming another whiskey and coke.

"If you had to wake up every goddamn morning for dry-land training, skate all night at practice, and then play a professional hockey game every other night, you wouldn't be getting drunk like a true Newfie either." I rip the shot from Jake's hand, slam it, and mumble at Cory, "Shit head."

Cory, Jake, and the other guys laugh and then order us all another round.

"Am I seeing things, or is that the one and only Cash Brooks?" a familiar female voice coos from my right.

I turn to the side to see Lucy and her freckled nose walking toward me.

"Mmm, lucky me." She leans in, pushing her tits in my face and trails her fingertip along my jawline. "You aren't just a figment of my imagination."

"Nice to see you too, Lucy." I run my hand along her thigh.

Lucy props her elbow on the bar, her lips inches away from mine. "So...is that your new truck parked out front?"

I shake my head, "Nope. It's Cory's."

She leans across the bar and smirks at Cory. "That's a pretty fancy car for a college freshman."

Cory blushes. "Cash bought it for me."

I take another swig of my drink.

"Really?" She straddles my waist with her long, bare legs, her backside pressed up against the bar. "You've always been so...what's the word?" She pauses and smiles to herself. "Generous." She bites down on her bottom lip, wrapping her arms around my neck.

God. I've fucked Lucy so many times that even in my drunken state, my head knows fucking her again is a bad idea.

Apparently, my dick doesn't care.

"You want to get out of here and bring this party back to my house?" she whispers.

Eying her big tits, I'm about to respond with a hell yes! When a familiar voice snaps my attention in the direction of the dimly lit hallway to my right.

"If it isn't Cash fucking Brooks, hometown hero," says Billy Martin as he stumbles out of the bathroom. "You're a real fucker, flashing your riches for the whole goddamn town to see. Nice truck, fucker."

"Shut up, Billy," Cory warns, rising to his feet. "It's not Cash's truck. It's my truck."

Billy's brow furrows, and he clenches his fists. He struts toward Cory with drunken rage in his eyes.

I quickly slam the last of my whiskey and coke and push Lucy off my lap. "You got a problem with that, Billy?" I step in front of my brother.

Billy shoves his palms onto my chest.

I grab each wrist and throw them off me. "Touch me again, and you'll be sorry."

Billy scowls and glances over my shoulder at Cory. "Come on, Baby Brooks. Let's race, you little shit. Let's see how fast your fancy new truck can go."

"I'm not racing you," Cory says. "We've all had way too much to drink. Bad idea."

"You're a pussy, Cory. Always have been and always will be. That's why your brother made the pros and you didn't." Billy laughs like an arrogant son of a bitch.

It takes all my willpower not to punch him in the face. The last thing our mother needs tonight is the cops showing up at her door because I beat the piss out of Billy Martin.

"I'll race you, you cock shit." I slam another whiskey and coke.

"Cash, no." Cory grips my bicep, but I shrug him off.

Cory is always cautious, so he never pursued a pro hockey career like I did.

He was more than talented on the ice, but hockey's fast-paced, competitive, rough side was too much for him. He has a soft heart. I'm the crazy, impulsive thrill seeker with a temper that could light a room on fire.

And right now, as far as I'm concerned, Billy is about to have his ass handed to him on a platter.

Billy smirked and pulled his keys out of his jacket pocket. "Alright. Let's go, big-time hockey star."

I step out of the bar and into the crisp, cold air.

The wind and blustery snow gushing off the East Coast nips at my bare skin and pricks my ears, but I don't care. My body hums with warmth from testosterone and adrenaline. The cheers and shouts of everyone from the bar follow us and only amp me up further to show this prick he's a small-town piece of shit.

I fucking hate Billy Martin. No one talks to my little brother like that.

"Give me the keys, Cory," I command, touching the door handle.

"Cash, please don't do this," Cory says. "Billy Martin is an idiot. Who cares what he thinks? Besides, you've been drinking."

I shake my head, "Five minutes, Cory. That's all I need to beat his ass down a road on a straight-away. Nothing is going to happen. Now give me the keys. I'm fine."

"But the roads are icy."

"Yeah, so? Your truck has top-of-the-line snow tires. Relax."

Cory sighs, but he shoves his hand into his pocket, pulls out the keys, and places them into the palm of my hand. "Fine. But I'm riding shotgun."

"You ready, pussy brothers?" Billy cackles like an idiot and hops up into the driver's seat of his beat-up pickup truck.

I flip off Billy and rev up the engine, adrenaline pumping as I look over at Cory sliding into the passenger's seat. He's rolling his eyes at me.

I honk the horn to rile up the bar crowd on either side of the makeshift start line.

When Lucy drops her hands, I rev up the engine one last time before we blast down the road.

_____________

I open my eyes and try to move my limbs.

An intense, blazing pain engulfs my entire body.

I release an agonized sound that originates from deep within my throat.

Smoke, snow and dust particles spin around me in a dizzying haze.

Fear twists deep within my soul as droplets of blood drip onto the steering wheel in front of me.

Shattered glass digs into my skin, and blood trickles down my forearms.

Disoriented and shaken, I don't know where I am or how I ended up here. Nausea twists in my stomach, and bile rises in my throat as the bitter taste of whiskey poisons my tongue and memory.

Whiskey.

Deer.

Ditch.

The pain in my chest swells, and panic beats in every sharp and staggered breath. Blue and red lights blind me in the reflection of the shattered windshield. While sirens wail in my ears, my heart seizes with anxiety.

Cory!

I frantically push through the pain, letting adrenaline rush through my veins and take over each jagged movement. I swing my entire body toward the passenger seat and grip him by the shoulders. Blood covers my hands. His entire body is crushed, bone and flesh swallowed by the dashboard.

This can't be happening. This can't be real.

I scream out his name until my throat runs dry.

I grab fistfuls of his shirt, watching his head loll back.

Blood drips from his ears and the back of his head.

My shoulders quaked, and sobs violently broke out of me.

I cry out his name, shaking him to wake up until his face blurs from the tears clouding my vision.

"No! No, Cory! Fucking wake up! Cory!"

I'm fighting with my seat belt and his body, kicking whatever I can to try and free us from the vehicle. Every time I move, bone-splitting agony knocks the wind out of me, and tears sting my cut and wounded face. A piece of metal jabs into my leg and pierces my skin. I scream and collapse in defeat. I reach over for him and bury my head in his chest, unleashing giant, ragged sobs.

A flash of light beams into my eyes. Loud voices are calling my name. Sirens echo stridently in my ears. Everything moves so quickly. Spinning. Jerking. Pulling. Lights find my eyes again. And then all I see is complete darkness.