Page 37 of The Unexpected Lineup (Lost in Translation #2)

DRIVE SAFE WITH PRECIOUS CARGO ON BOARD

RASMUS

A s I’m about to head out, one of the coaching staff’s junior members steps into the room. He looks around until he finds our captain and my stomach knots. Something’s off.

I can’t hear what he’s saying, but Shane’s expression morphs from his usual easy smile into something more serious. He nods, then turns toward me.

“Westerholm,” he says, “can I talk to you for a second?”

My back stiffens at his use of my last name, and I join them. The staff member glances at me, his voice quiet but firm. “Mr. Lavigne had a seizure, and they’re taking him to the hospital right now,” he shares. “I don’t have any other details, but I was sent to tell the captain.”

The locker room fades into background noise as my heart lurches, a cold sweat forming under my collar.

I think of Haisley, the way she talks about her dad who can be annoyingly overprotective but endlessly loving.

The only thing I see in that moment is Haisley’s sad face when she told me about how growing up without her biological mother was hard on her.

The way she lights up every time someone mentions her family.

How she’ll be worried sick to hear the news.

“I have to go,” I say, already yanking my jacket off the hook.

Sprinting across the parking lot, I unlock my truck with shaking hands. The second I slide behind the wheel, I pull out my phone and hit her contact.

It barely rings once.

“Ras?” Her voice is small, not even close to her usual bright tone. She already knows.

“I’m on my way,” I say, putting the call on speaker. “I just heard. Where are you?”

“I’m still at your place, but Mom and Holden just arrived at the hospital.”

“I’ll be there to pick you up in less than five. Grab your coat and be ready.”

She doesn’t answer right away. There’s only the faintest hitch of her breath as though she’s trying to hold herself together. “Okay.”

When I pull up outside the building, she’s already standing there on the sidewalk wearing a comfy dark orange loungewear set under her outerwear. The moment she spots me, she moves toward the car like her legs are working on autopilot.

I jump out, meeting her halfway. “Hey, I’ve got you.”

My hands settle on her shoulders, steadying her as I help her into the passenger seat. Once she’s buckled in, I close the door and circle back to the driver’s side.

“Which hospital?” I ask her .

“Genesis.”

I punch the name into the car’s GPS, my fingers tapping the edges of the screen as the route calculates. The second it locks in, I shift into reverse, draping my arm over the back of her seat as I glance over my shoulder, backing out with practiced ease.

The city lights blur past, but I can only focus on Haisley beside me. Her hands are gripping her stomach, and her breathing is shallow and uneven.

I reach for her knee, squeezing gently. “We’ll be there soon. Breathe for me, sweetness.”

She nods, but she’s somewhere else entirely.

“Do you want me to call someone?” I offer, keeping my eyes on the road while giving her assessing side glances.

Her throat bobs. “My brothers.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “They need to know.”

With my free hand, I find Holden’s number and put the call on speaker.

“Rasmus, I assume you’re calling because of Dad. I’m here at Genesis with our mom, waiting for the news. We’ve called Hendrix and Hunter, but they can’t make it here before tomorrow.”

I glance at Haisley as her brother speaks, watching how her fingers tighten in the fabric of her coat. She blinks rapidly, swallowing hard, holding back her emotions.

“Is he—” Her voice cracks, and she clears her throat, trying again. “Is Dad awake? ”

Holden exhales sharply. “He’s been in and out of consciousness. The doctors are with him now, running tests. We’ll find out more soon.”

Haisley nods, though Holden can’t see it. She then presses her lips together and stares out the window.

“We’re eight minutes out,” I say, steadying my voice. “I’ll get her there soon.”

“Drive safe with precious cargo on board,” her brother says. “We’ll be in the private waiting room 1510.”

The call disconnects, and the car is filled with heavy silence. Then Haisley exhales a sharp, broken sound. “I should’ve been there. But I was feeling a bit off today and told him I would attend the next home game instead.”

“You didn’t know,” I remind her, keeping one hand firm on the wheel while my other reaches for hers. “There’s nothing you could’ve done even if you were there. All the overthinking isn’t going to make the outcome any different.”

She shakes her head, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. “I just talked to him earlier, Ras. He sounded fine.” She turns to me, her eyes pleading. “How does that happen? How do you go from fine to?—”

Her voice cuts off, breaking under the weight of the words she can’t say aloud.

“I don’t know,” I admit because I don’t have the answers she wants. And I won’t lie to her. “But we’ll find out soon. You’re not alone in this.”

Her breathing is uneven, and her whole body is stiff as she fights to hold herself together. “What if—” She stops, biting her lip so hard I worry she’ll draw blood .

The words left unsaid fill the space between us. What if it’s really bad? What if this is the start of something worse? What if?

Damn those two fucking words. I don’t have answers, but I refuse to let her spiral alone.

I lift our joined hands, kissing her knuckles firmly and place them back in her lap. “Remember what you kept saying about the pregnancy in the beginning? One step at a time, Haisley. We’ll take this new situation one step at a time.”

“One step at a time,” she murmurs.

Haisley clings to my hand the rest of the way to the hospital, her tight grip almost cutting off my circulation. But I don’t complain. If holding onto me keeps her from falling apart, I’ll let her hold on as tight as she needs.

The hospital parking lot is nearly full. I pull into one of the last open spaces along the back fence. The second I kill the engine, the silence inside the cab settles over us, heavy and full of uncertainty.

Haisley hasn’t said much since the call. She only stared out the window, one hand gripping the side of her seat, knuckles pale against her sweatpants.

I turn to her, trying to read her expression. “Can you walk, or do you need assistance?”

“It should be fine,” she murmurs.

But she doesn't move. Her mouth is tight, and her eyes are glassy like she’s not entirely here. I reach over and rest a hand on her knee. The gesture is not pushing, just anchoring .

“We’ll go slow. You don’t have to rush.”

She nods again, but it’s mechanical. I step out first, rounding the car to get to her. She climbs out with stiff movements, every little motion taking effort. I want to scoop her up and carry her. Not because she’s weak, but because the weight she’s under is too much for anyone.

Her gaze is fixed straight ahead as we cross the lot. Her arms are crossed across the chest, bracing for a blow, and her fingers stay clenched around the sleeves of her hoodie.

We follow the blue signs that point toward the emergency entrance.

A woman pushes past us with a toddler crying on her hip.

An older man sits slumped on a bench just outside the sliding glass doors, staring blankly somewhere in the distance.

Here the world is too loud and too quiet at the same time.

Once inside, we follow the signs until we reach the private waiting room Holden mentioned during the phone call.

I pause with my hand on the handle, glancing at Haisley. “You ready, or do you need a moment?”

She nods once, but her eyes are glazed over. I open the door, letting her go in first.

Inside, Holden rises from a chair near the entrance the second we walk in. He’s wearing a battered ball cap and a grey hoodie that says Peacocks Hockey in purple block letter. His expression is tight, jaw locked, but he’s holding it together for his sister and mother.

“Haisley,” he breathes, stepping forward to pull her into a hug.

She falls into him with a choked sob, burying her face in his chest. He squeezes her tight, one hand rubbing her back in slow circles .

I glance to the right and see Gloria. She’s seated in a plastic chair against the wall, arms wrapped around her middle. Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, so unlike her usual look. The second she spots us, her face crumples.

Without thinking, I step forward and wrap my arms around her. She collapses into me, her sobs loud as she clutches the back of my jacket as if it’s tethering her to the ground. Her body shakes against mine.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper because it’s the only thing that comes to mind and the only thing that feels true. “I’m so sorry.”

She pulls back a little, giving me a watery smile. “Thank you for getting her here safely, Rasmus.”

Her voice breaks halfway through my name. I nod, unable to say more. My throat’s tight, my own chest aching just watching them fall apart.

Haisley steps away from Holden and rushes into her mom’s arms after I let go. Gloria pulls her daughter in instantly, and the two of them cling to each other.

Holden stands a few feet away, his arms hanging useless at his sides.

His fingers twitch, curling into fists and uncurling again.

His jaw works, grinding his molars together.

I’ve seen that kind of rage before. It’s not the kind you aim at someone else, but the kind that bubbles up when the world just stops making sense.

When something breaks and there’s no one to blame.

I want to help. I want to do something. But I’ve never felt more useless in my life.

I’ve taken hard hits on the ice, played through torn muscles and cracked ribs. I’ve had my face stitched up between periods and gone back out without missing a beat .

But this? Standing in a hospital room while someone you care about breaks in front of you? It’s the worst kind of helplessness. There’s nothing I can do to fix this. Nothing I can say to take away their pain.

Holden clears his throat, glancing toward the door leading to the hallway. “The doctor should be here soon after they run some tests.”

I glance between him and the women, then ask gently, “Do they have any idea what could be behind your dad’s seizure?”

He shakes his head. “Too many possible diagnoses. They’ve ruled out stroke and trauma, but beyond that it’s a waiting game until the scans and labs come back.”

“How’s he doing overall?”

“He’s stable now, but they want to monitor him overnight and run even more tests. They think whatever it is, it might’ve been building for a while just under the surface. Today just happened to be the tipping point.”

Haisley turns toward him, her face paler than usual. “But he was fine. I talked to him earlier between the first and second periods. He was laughing. He was fine .”

Her voice cracks on the last word, the disbelief and fear clinging to it.

“It came out of nowhere,” Gloria says softly, brushing hair from her daughter’s face with a trembling hand. “But we’ll figure it out, Cielito. We will.”

That word— Cielito —makes something squeeze inside my chest. There’s so much tenderness packed in it, even through the panic. Like Gloria’s trying to stitch her daughter back together with every soft syllable .

Haisley’s hand finds mine, her grip fierce and shaking. I squeeze back without hesitation, letting her know I’m right here. That I’m not going anywhere.

Her fingers stay locked with mine as we sit beside her mom, her other hand pressed to her stomach. She leans into me, her head resting on my shoulder. I lift our joined hands to my mouth, kissing the back of hers. She doesn’t say anything, but her breath hitches.

We stay silent until the doctor comes and shares more about Jeremy’s condition. And I’m glad that I could be here for Haisley and her family during such a difficult time.

Because they’re slowly becoming my family, too.