Page 80 of Fated Shot

The horror on Maddox’s face as he notices the lack of movement from Penn is enough to send me into a spiral. It was technically a clean hit, but that does nothing to stop everything that I’m feeling right now.

There’s a ripping in my chest as I stand to my feet in an instant to try to get a better view. I’m struggling to get oxygen into my lungs as everyone on the ice circles around his body.

The trainers from both teams make it onto the ice before I can do anything more. It’s a helpless feeling just waiting. I’m sick to my stomach, simultaneously fever hot and pneumonia frozen, like my body can’t remember how to self-regulate. There’s a largercrowd around him now, making it even harder to see what’s going on.

I watch as Scott gets the closest, dropping down on one knee beside his body. It’s fucking bad news, I know it is.

Less than thirty seconds later, three medics shuffle onto the ice as well, this time bringing out a stretcher. They load him on it and through the commotion on the ice, I can see some movement finally coming from the ground. The jumbotron is panning to the scene now too as four of them lift him up.

Both sets of fans are on their feet, giving a standing ovation as they wheel him off the ice. All the boys and the Blades players are slapping their sticks on the boards and ice.

The camera pans again to Penn, a small smile on his face as it zooms in on his hand, giving the crowd a thumbs up.

Fuck, man.

I’m finally able to take my first real breath in two minutes. The oxygen gives a reprieve to the burning in my lungs, but it’s the hollowness inside my chest that I can’t shake.

I had one job. Protect Penn, and I fucking failed him.

Chapter 32

Mia

As soon as I saw the hit, I frantically searched the bench for a look at Jack.

His face told me everything I needed to know. It reflected what every fan at the game was currently feeling: panic, anger, and devastation. I knew it would be tenfold for him, though. Their relationship has been so fun to witness. Jack always pulls the exasperated older brother card, forced to keep Penn in line, but I can tell how much he loves it, how much he loveshim.

I stand from my seat immediately, rushing up the stairs into the tunnel. My mom had the same idea, clearly, leaving the family area seats at the same moment I did. She’s already there waiting for me at our usual meeting point. We exchange a look before walking solemnly to the restricted section. Being the coach’s family has its perks for sure, and I’m about to play all my cards to get an update that I know Jack must be desperate for.

Penn is finishing up initial assessments with the trainers, but they’re transferring him to Toronto General for observation. He lost consciousness, albeit momentarily, so the team’s concussion protocol dictates he needs to have additional testing and monitoring done.

In the distance, we hear the final buzzer blare. Giving my mom a quick hug, I navigate my way toward the locker room exit.

In a frenzy, the door whips open to reveal a still sweaty, bloody-lipped man sporting black shorts, gruffly pulling a t-shirtover his firm torso. Even in this state, he looks uncannily handsome.

He doesn’t notice me right away as he looks aimlessly around, shuffling rapidly with no particular intention. I cradle his hands gently in mine, feeling his tension through the trembling. His face softens for just a moment as he looks at me, but the pain quickly returns, tightening his features once more.

He swallows hard, agony filling his eyes, as he barely manages to whisper, “Penn.”

“I know,” I say as I cup his face, trying to calm his frantic body. “He’s conscious, they took him to the hospital, he’s going to be okay.”

I study him for a moment, his lip swelling as the seconds tick by.

“You’re hurt.” I lift my hand to gently brush over his cracked lip.

He escapes my grasp.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles, taking a step forward. “I need to…”

“I know, Jack. I’m here to drive you. Okay?” I’ve never seen him like this. His whole body is constricted and tense, brimming with anxious energy. I grasp his slightly trembling hand, guiding him away as he follows me in silence.

Dropping him off at the main hospital entrance, I continue toward the massive parking garage. It takes forever to find a spot, and what feels like hours later, I’m finally able to wander through the giant sliding glass doors into the packed reception area. I spot Jack immediately. He looks far more rugged than usual, towering over everyone as he paces in the corner, barely noticing me as I approach.

“They don’t know what room he’s in. They don’t have the inpatient information and said even if they did, they wouldn’t let me up. I’m not—” His jaw tightens, eyebrows furrowing. “I’m not family.”

You know that protective instinct that kicks in when someone around you is distressed? Like a mom lifting a car off her baby? Well, I don’t know where I willed every ounce of courage from, but I was going to protect my six-foot-three, tatted, man-sized baby.

I march over to the desk, trying to summon every bit of training I gleaned from my one week of drama camp when I was eight years old.

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