Page 64

Sixty-Four

SUNNY

“Get up right now.”

I jump up from a dead sleep and stare at Ruby from across the room of her tiny apartment. “What? Why?”

My heart races.

“Is he here? Did he find me?”

The disheveled bun on top of her head bounces back and forth with her answer. “No, and I don’t think he’s going to.”

She pulls me out of bed and drags me to the living room.

Some guy is on the couch, wearing nothing but a low pair of pants with his feet propped up on the coffee table.

“Never mind him,” she whispers. “Turn it up, Preston!”

The guy—I’m assuming one of her “friends”—grabs the remote and turns up the volume. My eyes burn from the sudden brightness of the TV, but they adjust quickly when I spot a shade of blue that I’m all too familiar with.

“What the hell?” I rasp.

My eyes open wider.

It’s a brawl.

I’m too confused to sit. I stand behind the couch and stare at the fight unfolding on the TV.

The commenters are at a loss. Stunned with silence. Clearly, they’re confused as well.

“Tell her what you told me,” Ruby urges in Preston’s direction.

He tips his head back at me from the couch. “The fight isn’t between the two teams. It’s the Blue Devils against one of their coaches.”

Oh no.

My hands dig into my hair. I pull on the strands and begin to panic.

Did Nicholas attack Rhodes, and the team responded and attacked him?

“It looked like one of the Blue Devils… ” The announcer on TV pauses. A replay comes on the screen.

I’m going to be sick.

I wrap my arm around my waist from the sudden nausea.

“One of the Blue Devils grabbed a coach… Is that Nicholas Tarvo from Washington?”

“Looks like it, Pete.”

“It looks to be Volkova as the instigator. He pulled Tarvo off the bench and threw him down. Then the entire team seemed to join in.”

Eventually, they cut to commercial as the refs and other coaches sweep in and pull their players off the two stars of the fight: Rhodes and Nicholas.

This isn’t good.

I slowly sink to the floor and wrap my arms around my knees. Preston sits up taller and mutters, “I think that is my cue to go.”

Ruby whispers back to him, “I think that’d be a good idea.”

“Call me if you need anything, yeah?”

She walks him to the door, handing him his shirt on his way out.

When the door shuts, our eyes crash.

“He seems nice,” I say, desperate for anything but the attention to be on me.

She rolls her lips. “But would he fight for me on national television?”

I shoot her a look, and she snorts. “I’m sorry. It isn’t funny, but I’m sort of afraid you’re going to have a panic attack, so I thought I'd try to lighten the mood.”

My bottom lip wobbles. I place my head on my knees and grab onto my legs tighter. “I thought leaving would fix things.”

The plan was to leave things on a good note, which did not happen. My fight-or-flight kicked in. I felt safe, finally , after almost an entire year of bouncing around and hiding. Rhodes and Ellie became my home, and there was no way I was going to jeopardize that because of Nicholas.

I won’t let him ruin anything else. Not another home. Not my home.

I knew if I told Rhodes who Nicholas really was that it would end badly.

But not telling him did the same.

How did he find out?

Was that what the fight was over?

Me?

What if he ruins his career over this? Fights in hockey aren't unusual, but an entire team attacking a hockey coach, in the middle of a game, on the ice? I think that’s unheard of.

And Ellie. Was she there? I hope not.

I hope Atlas wasn’t watching either.

Last I knew, they had no contact, but things can change.

“I think you should call him.” Ruby slides down the back of the couch to sit beside me.

I peek at her, and she’s holding an entire bottle of wine. I eye it, and she gingerly holds it out for me.

I grab the neck and bring it to my lips. “And say what?”

“Explain why you left without giving him a real explanation. If he’s beating the shit out of Tarvo, he probably already knows.”

I gulp the dry wine down and crinkle my face at the taste. “I highly doubt he wants to talk to me. You didn’t see his face that night.”

An ache digs deeper into my chest each time I picture it.

He was so hurt and confused.

Then he turned angry and bitter.

Regardless of my good intentions and attempt at making the right decision, I still broke my promise to him and Ellie. I left.

“Then maybe you tell him that you left because you love him and Ellie. Not because you don’t.”

I pause and stare at my best friend. She raises an eyebrow, like she’s daring me to argue.

“Don’t try to deny it.” She takes the wine from my hand and swallows another gulp. “You put them first, even if they don’t see it like that. That’s something someone only does when they’re in love.”

I hate it when she makes sense.

“We weren’t practical,” I argue. “We were never meant to be anything serious. Rhodes has always been up front with me. He wanted a nanny that didn’t have other intentions.”

“And he got you.” Ruby grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Someone who didn’t have other intentions. That’s why it works.”

I swallow two more gulps of wine.

“You’re wrong,” I argue.

All the reasons why Rhodes and I are wrong for each other are scattered all around me. But the more I drink with my best friend on the floor of her apartment, the hazier they become.

My heart stings, even with the buzz of alcohol in my system.

I feel empty.

Like everything is just wrong.

I may be physically in Washington, but every other part of me is back in Chicago.

A tear crests over my cheek.

Ruby eventually pulls me over to her, and I rest my head against her lap and cry.

It’s eerily similar to when I showed up at this exact apartment with a busted lip and fear wrecking my nervous system.

Only, this time, I’m not afraid.

I’m devastated.