Page 107 of Bombshells
Jesus Christ. What the hell is wrong?
I feel the strangest sensation in my body right now. Like my hands and feet are suddenly cold and numb.
“Mr. Bayer.” Cedric clears his throat. “Man, you look pale. Breathe, dude.”
Oh, right. Oxygen. I take a long, gasping breath and feel a little less dizzy.
“The game is over, right?” Trina asks. “There’s blood on the ice.”
My stomach lurches. There’s a trail of blood from the crease toward the chute. And now that cold feeling is back.
“This is the pros,” Drake says. “They’ll almost certainly finish the game.”
Sure enough, Scarlet skates out a moment later, looking a little stiff as she stands in front of the net.
“This is grisly,” Scarlet’s husband says from behind me. “Shitty reason to get some more playing time.”
The players set up for a faceoff, but I’m no longer paying attention. My mind is on Sylvie in the locker room. I’m counting down the seconds until I can get out of here and go to her.
“She’s going to be okay, right?” Trina whispers.
“Yes.” But I’ve never been so worried about anyone in my life.
Thirty-Five
There Goes My Modeling Career
SYLVIE
“How bad is it?” I ask my father.
I’m lying in an ER bed, with a mask covering my eyes. The mask is shielding me from the bright lights that the plastic surgeon needed to see the gash on the side of my neck and jaw. There are something like fifty tiny stitches there now.
“It’s nothing we can’t handle,” my father says gently.
“There goes my modeling career, right after it’s begun.”
“The wound is not on your face. Not really.”
“I was joking.”
“I know. But you’re still beautiful. Just saying.”
My skin is still numb, which is a really weird sensation. And I’m told that it will hurt when the numbness wears off.
I don’t remember skating off the rink. I passed out in the dressing room, probably more from shock than blood loss. Although I’m told the blood loss was quite dramatic-looking, if not life-threatening.
And my poor dad had to witness the whole thing. “I sure am sorry to make you worry.”
“Been worrying about you since the hour you were born. This is just another day at the office.”
“It’s not fair, though. After the year you’ve had.”
He squeezes my hand. “I already know how fragile life is, pumpkin. I regret nothing. When you got the call to come to Brooklyn, I was so happy for you. I’m glad you went for it. Even if I’m going to be seeing that reckless skater aiming for you in my dreams.”
“I came to New York for an adventure.”
“You found it.” His chuckle is dry.
