Page 5 of Lost in You

“Just do it,” I tell her. “You’ll feel better.”

She looks over at me, scowling. “Believe me, if I could, I would.”

I see so damn much of Dalton in her. I’m the team captain and two years older than him. I’ve had to talk to him about his shitty attitude a few times. His intense competitiveness can give him tunnel vision, and as his teammate, I get it. But he’s short-tempered at his best and a total asshole at his worst when he’s under pressure, and some of our front office people find him abrasive. Reporters aren’t big fans, either.

“You’re a lot like your brother, you know that?” I ask Trinity, hoping to distract her from her misery.

She sits up, narrowing her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Friendly.” There’s a note of sarcasm in my tone.

She scoffs. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re the one who’s like my brother. Expecting all women to fall at your feet because you’re a big, strong hockey player.”

I shrug, amused by her irritation. “Unfortunately there’s no room at my feet right now.”

She rolls her eyes. “That is unfortunate. You know, there’s a--” She tops talking and leans over the bucket, puking into it.

She does it over and over until she’s dry heaving. The plane drops so hard and fast that she screams and I brace my hands against the seat in front of me.

“It’s just a little snowstorm,” Chris says through the headset. “Shit.” He rubs his shoulder like it’s bothering him. “Get the lid on the puke bucket, or we’ll all end up covered in it.”

Trinity flips the lid closed on the bucket and snaps a latch to lock it. She looks over at me, the fight gone from her expression. “I don’t know if I can do this all the way to Mi--”

She stops when the plane plummets again, this time shifting from side to side, too. My stomach rolls with nausea, which has never happened to me on a plane.

My pride won’t let me admit this turbulence is unnerving to me, too. My head bounces off the back of the headrest, the contact so rough it makes my teeth rattle.

Trinity is crying. I cover her hand with mine.

“We’re gonna be okay,” I promise. “Take some slow, deep breaths.”

“I have to get off of this plane,” she says weakly. “Please.”

I don’t disagree. I’m thinking I can rent a car in Atlin and drive us the rest of the way.

The plane does another stomach-rolling drop and I lean forward, putting a palm on Chris’s shoulder. “Hey man, how much longer until we get to Atlin?”

He doesn’t respond. I unfasten my seat belt and lean forward, my heart pounding so hard I can feel the rush of it in my ears.

Chris’s chin is on his chest and his eyes are closed. I grab his shoulder and shake him, but he doesn’t move.

This is bad. Really fucking bad.

“Chris?” I put my hand on his neck, checking for a pulse. Though I don’t feel anything, I’m not sure I’m checking in the right spot.

“Lincoln, what’s going on?” Trinity practically wails. “Chris? Chris, what’s happening?”

I get a good look out the plane’s windshield and my jaw drops. The view that was a bright-blue sky is now a dense forest spotted with white snowcaps.

We’re not far from the ground. I do the math quickly. Even if I could fly this thing—which I can’t—I don’t have time to get Chris out of his seat and take over the controls before we hit the ground.

“Holy shit!” Trinity screams. “We’re going to crash!”

All we can do is brace for impact. I sit down, quickly get my seat belt back on and look over at Trinity. The plane drops farther and she screams again.

I close my eyes for a couple of seconds. This is going to be it. There were things in my life I should have made right but never did. I told myself I’d do it someday. Remorse and shame wash over me as I picture my dad.

“We have to get out!” Trinity unfastens her seat belt and starts to get up. “The parachutes!”

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