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Rafael

I sat beside Cody as he slept in the hospital bed. I was exhausted, and the warmth of the dimly lit room was doing its best to lull me to sleep. I refused to rest because I wanted to wait for Cody to wake up.

He had a concussion and would have to miss two weeks. After he cleared the concussion protocol, there would be a gradual increase in ice time. He probably couldn’t play a game for at least three weeks. The doctor assured me the concussion was the primary injury. Cody moved his hands and feet in his sleep, which assured them that he hadn’t suffered a spinal injury.

I knew he’d be pissed about the required rest. Cody had worked his ass off and to have to sit out for the first month of his last season with the Vipers was crushing. I knew how much the team meant to him.

The fate of my hockey future was to be determined. I’d been with the Vipers for only two months and caused a fight that took two referees, both head coaches, and every assistant coach at the arena to stop.

Needless to say, I fucked up.

Cody stirred, and my heart accelerated. I dimmed the lights overhead a bit more as he batted his eyes open. He scrunched his eyes, scanning the room.

“Are we at the hospital?” he asked.

“Yup.”

Cody tried to sit up, but I stopped him. “You gotta lie down, angel. They want you to spend the night. Hank’s driving to Massachusetts now because the doctors think you’d be better off in a car than a bus.”

“What the hell happened?” he asked.

I brushed my fingers along the smooth skin of his arm. He looked so delicate like this. My protective instincts kicked into overdrive. “Some fucker plowed you from behind. You went headfirst into the boards.”

“Plowed me from behind. I thought that was your job.” His wicked grin made my heart swell. “So that’s why my head feels like someone took a sledgehammer to it.”

“You’re concussed, angel. You gotta sit out for a couple weeks at least.”

Cody released an annoyed groan as he rocked his head against the pillow. “Please tell me we miraculously won somehow.”

“I don’t know if we won.” Here we go.

His brown eyes grew wide. “Wow,” he tried to sit up, but I didn’t let him. He grumbled his disapproval, then said, “Did you leave the game to be with me?”

Alright. Just have to come out with it. “Yes. I was also kicked out of the game.”

I knew he’d shoot that glare of his at me. Cody had a way of scolding you without saying a word. A trait he’d picked up from Jill. “Why?”

I started picking at the cuticles on my right hand. “The guy who hit you, I may have…beat him up.”

“What?”

“And by ‘may have’, I mean I definitely beat the ever loving shit out of him.”

He pulled the sheet over his head and sank deeper into the hospital bed. “Rafael, why?”

“Because he hurt you.”

Cody slowly slid down the covers, revealing his exhausted face. “That is really fucking sweet, but you shouldn’t have done that. Things like this,” he motioned to his head, “happen in hockey. You can’t protect me from it.”

“I can try,” I protested.

“Not at the risk of your hockey career. Rafael, you’re amazing. You could go pro.”

I ran my fingers through my hair. “I know all of this, but he fucking fist-pumped a teammate as they carted you away. He had it coming.” My throat tightened as the image of Cody’s eyes rolling in the back of his head came back to me. “I was just so fucking mad. Nothing can happen to you. Nothing.”

Cody’s eyes softened. “Rafael, you can’t control that.”

Fuck that. Yes, I could. I’d make sure nothing happened to Cody. The world was trying to rip him away from me—first the lake, now this. I burned with rage. I’d burn the whole fucking world to the ground if something happened to Cody. “I can do my best, though. I can’t lose you, Cody.”

“You’re not going to lose me.”

“You don’t know that!” My scream bounced off the metal cabinets of the room. Cody stilled on the bed, visibly shaken. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I-”

His hand reached out to mine. “Come here.” As I approached, he wrapped his arms around me. “Lie on the bed with me.” He said.

“Are you sure? Your head…that might—”

“I’m sure. Please lie with me, baby.”

The nerves settled instantly when Cody called me baby. My body thrummed as agitation disappeared, and a warm feeling washed over me.

His fingers trailing through my hair induced a hypnotic feeling. Cody tamed the beast in me. “Rafael, this is too much pressure. It’s not your responsibility to protect me. You can’t stop the world from being the way it is. If you worry about what might happen to me the whole time, you’ll miss the wonderful moments.”

All I wanted was to wrap him in my arms, but I worried about moving his head. “How’d getting a concussion turn you into a philosopher?” I teased.

He playfully slapped my arm. “Little shit.”

“Sorry. I know you’re right. I just—” The words caught my throat, their enormity hitting me like an avalanche. “I just love you so much. It scares me.”

Cody’s arms wrapped tighter around me. “I love you, too.” His hands cupped my chin, making me look at him. “I get scared, too, but when I’m with you, my fears vanish. This feels right. You and I feel right. Not everyone finds that, so let’s treasure it.”

“You really are an angel, you know that?”

He didn’t respond. He simply grinned and kissed me.

Cody

Hank arrived later that night and stayed at a hotel. Rafael refused to leave my side. The love I had for Rafael was growing by the moment. My sourpuss was now a golden retriever who wouldn’t leave my side. He was also hurting, and I knew his reaction to my hit on the ice was in part because of the trauma he experienced with Mattie—something needed to be done.

The next day, we were on the road, returning to New Rochelle.

Rafael fidgeted in the seat next to me, repositioning himself over and over again in frustration. He’d release long, drawn-out sighs and pinch the bridge of his nose.

Coach texted him that morning, saying that the Player Safety Committee wanted to schedule a call to discuss Rafael’s actions. The referees had alerted them to the fight that broke out and how Rafael had caused it.

I texted Coach to let him know about the fist-bump Rafael saw. The bastard hit me on purpose, and he celebrated as they wheeled me out on a stretcher. How could he not be in trouble, too?

“I need to use the restroom,” Rafael said.

Hank looked in the rearview mirror and nodded. “There’s a rest stop ahead. I’ll pull over.”

Rafael ran inside to go to the bathroom the moment the car stopped. Hank and I sat alone in the car. I was feeling bold in that moment, and I wanted to take the opportunity to speak with Hank.

I knew Rafael’s guilt was going to eat away at him slowly. It affected every decision he made. He was terrified he might lose me, so he beat the holy hell out of the dude who hurt me.

He took ownership of something that happened when he was fourteen. It was absurd to expect a fourteen-year-old to be capable of anything in that situation, and at least one of his parents needed to tell Rafael that.

“Hank, I want to talk to you,” I blurted out, my gut twisting with nerves. We didn’t have a lot of time before Rafael came back. I had to be quick and concise.

“Shoot,” he replied.

Here we go. I took a deep breath to prepare myself. “I know Rafael blames himself for Mattie’s death. The guilt has been eating away at him for four years, and you need to talk to him. You and Rita have to tell Rafael it wasn’t his fault. He was a fourteen-year-old boy who didn’t have the strength to battle a thunderstorm in the Atlantic Ocean. You need to drive that point home so that he can forgive himself. Do you understand me?”

Hank’s mouth fell open. I suppose it was a lot to take in all at once. Like I said, quick and concise.

Hank appeared dumbfounded. His eyes looked forward, as if he were searching for something. “Did he tell you he blames himself?”

“He didn’t have to tell me. I know he blames himself for Mattie’s death. I wouldn’t be shocked if he blames himself for you leaving. Rafael believes this was all his fault.”

Hank watched his hands as they rubbed his thighs. “How could he think that? It was my fault. I let them go out there without checking the weather.”

Jesus Christ. So, Rafael and Hank blamed themselves, and guilt prevented them from speaking to each other about it. I almost started crying. It was all just so sad.

“Hank, it’s nobody’s fault. Not really. It was an accident.”

A tear slid down his cheek, which he wiped away quickly. “No. I wasn’t looking out for them. I was the man of the house, and I let my son die.”

“How can you say you let him die? You’d never have wanted that to happen.”

“It was on my watch. Rita never let me forget that—”

The door opened, and Rafael hopped into the car. Hank and I shared a look. He nodded, and I smiled. It felt like Hank got it. He needed to talk to Rafael. I hoped he’d do it soon.