Page 34 of The Winning Hat Trick (The Steel City Knights #1)

Maclan

T oday has been one of the longest, most emotionally draining days of my life.

I don't know how it could start out on such a high, with me feeling like the luckiest man in the world, and sink to the lowest of lows as I sit in my truck in my garage, refusing to get out and go into my empty house because they aren't here.

My self-loathing is only made worse when I remember that I'm here alone because I let my pride take control and told Celeste I wasn't coming over.

You know you could text her and tell her you changed your mind? Or hell, just go over there and knock on the door, you jackass? I admonish myself.

My aching body, tired of sitting in my truck, makes the decision for me. I grab my bag from the backseat then head inside. I used to love my house, but now it feels cold and uninviting as if something's missing.

No shit, Sherlock. Your family is missing. Pull your head out of your ass and go home.

I flip off my internal voice as I make my way to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I groan when I realize its empty. I had my chef come to Cel's house for the week, so all of my food is there. Pulling my phone from my pants, I'm surprised at the number of notifications on my screen.

I silenced it after that disaster of a press conference and the bullshit that woman spread.

Della informed me that the woman wasn't actually part of the approved press list and was trespassing.

After talking to Gabriella, they both agreed that this was a calculated attack orchestrated by Celeste's ex-husband, which made me want to hunt the bastard down and beat him with my hockey stick.

There are several messages from friends checking in that I bypass. My brothers texted me to let me know they've got my back and that I played well. My parents also texted and called to give their support.

I click on Brooks's name when I see that he's texted me several times, the text getting more urgent as they go on. I also realize I have several missed calls from him.

Alarm bells go off in my head, but before I can text or call him back, my phone rings again, with his name popping up.

"Hey, is everything okay? Is Wren alright?"

"Thank fuck. I've been trying to get a hold of you for hours." Brooks sounds frustrated as concern floods his voice.

"I had my phone silenced because of all the shit with the press. What's wrong?" Panic floods my veins as I start to think of everything that could have gone wrong to have Brooks so frazzled.

"Have you heard from Celeste?"

That stops my racing mind in my tracks. She was the last person I expected Brooks to be calling me about.

"No, I don't think so. Hold on…" The panic is back as I pull the phone from my ear, put it on speaker, and start scrolling through until I can find our text thread. "No, she hasn't called, and the last time she texted was a few hours ago."

"Fuck." I hear a door shut.

My panic slams back into me full force. "Brooks, what the fuck is going on?"

"I'm sure everything is okay, but she wasn't feeling great when she left the arena. She was getting a migraine. She looked like she was in a lot of pain, but she insisted she was fine and just wanted to get home. She refused to let me drive her or call you."

"What the hell, Brooks?" I grit out.

"Hey, I tried to help. She got a text from you, wouldn't say what it was, but she was visibly upset.

After that, she was adamant to not bother you.

She promised she'd text me when she got home, but sometimes she forgets with the kids, so she asked me to text her and not panic.

I did two hours ago, and I still haven't heard from her. "

"Okay, well, that might not mean anything." I pace the kitchen as I try to reassure myself. "She's really good about not being on her phone when the kids are up. She forgets where she puts it all the time. She might not have thought of it."

"Sure, I could go with that if I didn't pass her pulled over on the side of the road getting sick on the way home. I—"

"Fuck. Why didn't you lead with that?" I pull my hair while I imagine how sick my gorgeous girl must've been.

"By the time I realized it was her and turned around to go check on her, she was already back on the road. I don't know where she lives, and I couldn't get a hold of Daph or Ezra. They're at some gala tonight, so I'm sure they don't have their phones on them."

"Shit. I need to go check on her. She's told me about her migraines but only in passing. She said they can be really bad."

"I'd say this one was a bad one. She…" Brooks hesitates.

"She stumbled when I let go of her when we were done hugging.

I swear I didn't feel good about letting her drive home, but I could also tell there was no way she was going to let me drive her or call you.

I figured I could follow her home, but she tore out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. I'm sorry, Mac."

"It's not your fault, Brooks. I know how stubborn she can be and how she feels like she has to do it all on her own.

This is just as much my fault as anyone's.

She asked me to come over tonight to talk, but I told her no.

My pride was hurt, and I wasn't ready to hear her tell me she believed I could do what that woman had accused me of. "

"Maclan—"

"No. We can talk about it later, Brooks. I need to get to Celeste and make sure she's okay."

"Will you text me and let me know? I've been worried sick. I fucked up by letting her leave the arena."

I shake my head even though he can't see me. "No, you were being respectful of her wishes. I'll let you know how she is when I get there."

I hang up the phone then race upstairs to change. I have some clothes at Celeste's, but I don't want to have to waste a second on something as mundane as changing my clothes if she needs my help. Racing out the door, I fly down the quiet country roads to Celeste's house.

When I pull into the driveway, the house is dark. I open the garage door that's programmed to my truck and park beside her SUV that's crooked in its spot. The rear side passenger door is also slightly open, which makes my worry increase.

I walk through the door that leads into the kitchen, which looks like a bomb went off.

The bag Celeste brought for the kids to the game is inside the door.

Layers of clothes are strewn about the place while kids' shoes are all over the floor.

Dinner plates sit on the table, and a cup lies on its side with spilled milk trickling out of it.

"Fucking hell." I run a hand over my face as anxiety shoots through me.

I kick my shoes off, adding to the mess by the door, then race through the house. Taking the stairs two at a time I stop by the kids' rooms to check on them. My fears calm little by little with each child I see safely tucked into their bed, sound asleep.

When I finally make it to Celeste's room, I'm surprised she's not in her bed.

What I do find melts my heart. A tray with crackers, ginger ale, and a note written in Talon's writing lies on my side of the bed.

Damn, I owe that kid for stepping up and taking care of his Mama when I fucked up and failed epically.

Seeing light spilling out from under the bathroom door, I make my way over and gently knock.

There's no response, so I try the handle and sigh when it turns, allowing me entrance.

My heart stops when I find Celeste curled in a ball on the cold, hard floor.

Sweat soaks her shirt and hair as one hand covers her eyes and the other holds what looks like an ice pack.

"Shit, baby. I'm so sorry," I whisper as I make my way towards her. "Celeste. Can you wake up? Let's get you to bed."

She moans but doesn't open her eyes.

I scoop her up in my arms and take her to her room.

Her eyes flutter open for the briefest of moments before slamming shut again.

I gently lie her down in her bed, then return to her bathroom to grab the ice pack and a garbage can.

I put the ice pack on her neck and the waste bin beside the bed, then scoop up the tray and carry it downstairs.

I grab my phone from my pants and call Brooks.

"Thank fuck. I was about to send out a search party."

"Sorry. I got here, and the house was a disaster. They made it home alright, but she must've been in survival mode. The car door was still open, and shit is everywhere in the kitchen, but the kids are all safely in bed."

"Shit. I knew I shouldn't have let her go."

"Not your fault, brother. They're all safe and home. That's all that matters." I sigh as my hand tugs at the back of my neck.

"How's Celeste?" Worry bleeds into my brother's voice.

"She's not good. She's basically comatose, and I don't know how to help her. I found her curled up on the bathroom floor. I don't know if she even realized I was here until I carried her to bed, and even then, I'm not sure. I need to find her phone so I can call her mom."

"Yeah, she's not going to be of any help. Her parents didn't make it to your game today because her mom had a migraine too."

"Shit. Do you think Ezra's gala or whatever the hell he had going on is done? Celeste needs help, and I don't know what to d-do." My voice cracks as all of my worry and fear break free.

The woman I love is in excruciating pain, and I don't know how to care for her. I feel helpless and useless, and would do anything to take her pain away right now. She doesn't deserve this, especially after the hell she's been through with her ex and the shit I put her through today.

"Call him. If he doesn't answer, let me know and I'll try Daphne."

"Okay. Thanks, Brooks."

"Anytime. Keep me updated and let me know if you need anything. Wren and I will bring you whatever. Doesn't matter if it's the middle of the night."

"Thanks."

I hang up and pull up Ezra's contact. It rings and rings, and just when I'm starting to lose hope that he will answer, the phone connects.

"Hey, Mac. Is everything okay?"