Page 24 of Your Love (Merrimack Mavericks Hockey #3)

Chapter 24

“Scars”

Kerri - Age 19, 1989

I ’ve been home from the hospital for two days. Physically, I feel like I was hit by a car, but the mental toll of what’s going on is worse. It wasn’t just a car that hit me; it was an eighteen-wheeler that struck me, backed up over me, and then hit me again, just for good measure.

It still hurts to move, but I have to try to use my muscles as much as possible. Once everything is healed, I’ll have some physical therapy, but it’s my broken brain that’s giving me the most trouble.

At least I’m home where it’s familiar. I’m sitting in my kitchen, the comforting place I’ve always called home, where memories of making cookies, family meals, and doing homework fill my mind and my soul.

Landry sits across from me. It’s surreal that he is supposed to be the closest person in my life right now, but he still feels like a stranger. In the past few days, my brain has come to some sort of realization that he’s not a threat, so at least I can be near him without my body going into fight or flight mode. Maybe it’s the easy way he talks or the fact that he’s comfortable sitting in silence, but his presence isn’t threatening anymore. It’s just…unfamiliar.

“Can I bring you some more tea?” Landry asks. His big hands are tightly wrapped around the mug which says, “Bless your heart.” It’s almost comical how small it is in his hands.

“No, I’m good,” I tell him. I can’t help but feel bad that he’s taking time away from his life when I can’t give him what he needs from me. He says he’s fine simply being here with me, but the feeling of letting him down is making me feel worse about everything. He looks at me with these expectant eyes, and it breaks my heart because I can’t return the love I see in his soft, amber gaze. At least, not right now.

He shifts his large body in his seat. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Maybe later. I’m tired. I might take a nap.”

The disappointment on his face is clear, but he steals himself quickly. “Makes sense. You need to rest.”

I feel like this visit should be different. This is the first time he’s been to Texas, so I should be showing him my childhood bedroom, taking him to some of my favorite places, and all the things couples do when they visit each other’s hometown.

Landry gets up to put his coffee cup in the sink. “How is Paige doing?” he asks as he begins washing his mug.

“She’s better,” I reply. “I’m grateful she’s out of the ICU, and she’s going to recover.”

Landry dries the cup with the hand towel and puts it back in the cabinet. His movements are surprisingly graceful for such a large man. His thighs are so thick that they stretch the fabric of those jeans…

“Can I ask you a question?” he asks, pulling me out of my ogling.

“Sure.”

“Why were you driving her car? Do you remember?”

“I really don’t remember, but I spoke with Paige and she said she brought a little flask into the theater and poured it into her Coke Slushie. Jack and Coke Slurpee,” Kerri says with a weak smile. “So, I told her I’d drive home.”

He leans against the counter, his big arms flexed across his chest.

“Why do you ask?”

Landry drugs indifferently. “I was just curious. No big deal,” he says, but something nags at me that makes me think he’s wondering if there’s more to it than that. Still, I don’t push the subject.

I decide a subject change is in order. “Tell me a bit more about Merrimack.” The doctors say talking about these things might help jog my memory.

“It’s a small town, a bit like this one,” he says. “It’s changed since your childhood memories of it, I’m sure. It’s more of a hockey town than a football town.”

“What about our friends?”

Landry tells me a particularly funny story that happened on prom night with our friend Taz and a feisty rooster on Nana and Papa’s Farm. His eyes light up at the memory, and he begins laughing so hard that tears actually form in the corners of his eyes. Even though I don’t remember it, Landry’s deep laughter is contagious, and I can’t help but laugh as well as he paints the picture. He has so much love for this group of people.

Speaking of our mutual friends, a couple of them have called and left messages with my parents, and I’ve received a couple more get-well cards in the mail. I haven’t returned any calls, but it’s nice of them to reach out.

As he leans against the counter and his body shakes with laughter, I take the opportunity to study him. He is objectively one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. It’s easy to see why I’d be physically attracted to him. And his personality is even better. He’s sweet, kind, and generous, or so it seems from the little that I know. I understand why I would have fallen for him. I just wish I could remember doing so.

“I guess I’ll go,” Landry says. “Do you want me to come back this afternoon, or would you like some time with your parents?”

“You know what might be nice?”

Landry looks at me expectantly.

“You and I could go grab a milkshake or something this afternoon? We have a perfect place here in town.”

His eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning as a genuine smile graces his handsome face. “I’d love that.”

“I hope you like chocolate malts because that’s my favorite.”

“I know,” he says with a knowing wink.

A few hours later, we’re sitting outside in the car at The Twist ’n’ Taste. I love this place. It’s one of those restaurants where they bring your food to your car on roller skates. I love the old diner feel, and the food takes me back to a time that makes me happy.

I take the first sip of my malt, and it’s heavenly. The depth of the chocolate and the frostiness of the ice cream hit my tongue with a flavor explosion. I’ve been eating soft, bland foods for almost a week. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this. It’s so thick that it takes me several pulls on the straw to get my first taste. My cheeks ache, but it’s so worth it. Landry chuckles, watching me as he drinks his root beer float with ease.

We’ve had a nice time this afternoon. We’ve been driving around town and trying to enjoy each other’s company without any expectations. I’ve shown him my elementary school, the movie theater, and the pizza place where I got my first job.

“I need to use the restroom before we go,” Landry says. “Do you need anything?”

I sip on my malt happily before holding it up. “Nope. I’m all good.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I watch him jump out of my dad’s truck and stride toward the doors to use the restroom inside. Women and men alike turn their heads as he walks by. Whether it’s his size or just the way he carries himself, it commands the attention of people around him.

As he disappears inside, I look around at the folks at the diner. Everyone is laughing and enjoying themselves, having something cold to ward off the oppressive Texas heat. This might be the best I’ve felt since I woke up from my accident. I’m not ready for the day to end. I’m trying to think of what else Landry and I can do for the remainder of the evening when he strides out of the building.

He doesn’t make it far before a man approaches him. Something about it makes the hair on the back of my neck rise, and shivers rake my body. Landry stops. They seem to be having a heated conversation. Landry’s stance is tense. His hands ball into fists at his sides as he scowls at the man. The other guy says something and chuckles, and Landry slams him up against the building, his forearm pushed tightly against the man’s throat.

It’s Beau. As soon as I see his face, I know. At first, I’m too shocked to move. My heart rate skyrockets and I begin to shake, the pain of it tearing through my broken bones. Beau is trying to fight back for his breath, but he’s losing the battle.

Suddenly, a cry rips from my chest as I lean toward the open window on the driver’s side of the truck. “Landry! Stop! Stop!”

Landry looks at me for a moment, the rage written across his face, but doesn’t relent. I give him a pleading look, and he removes his arm. Beau crumples to the ground as his hand goes to his throat, and he begins to cough, trying to catch his breath.

Landry gets into the truck and puts his hands on the steering wheel. He looks straight ahead as anger courses through him. I can see his jaw grinding and the small muscles under his right eye ticking.

Without a word, he starts the engine, and we pull onto the highway. Once we’re away from the scene, I speak. “What was that?”

“A misunderstanding,” he says flatly.

“A misunderstanding?” I repeat incredulously. “That looked really intense for a misunderstanding. You look like you wanted to kill him.”

When he doesn’t say anything, I continue. “Do you make it a habit of getting in fights like that?”

He exhales loudly and runs a large hand through his hair in exasperation. “No, I don’t. But I know who he is and what he did. You told me.”

Of course, I would’ve told him about Beau. I feel a rollercoaster of emotions suddenly—shock, embarrassment, and fear making up the majority. “I’d like you to take me home now,” I say.

“Can we spend a bit more time together?” he asks, his tone hopeful.

“No. I think I’m done for today.” I reply, trying to steady my voice and blinking away tears. I roll down the window to take in deep gulps of air. “Please take me home.” I spend the rest of the car ride staring out the window in silence. I avoid making eye contact. I don’t want Landry to see me cry.

I will be safe once I’m at home. I will be safe once I’m at home.