Page 105 of A Scoring Chance

“Here. Read this. I’ll clean up the bathroom and grab your phone. You can talk to him while I bandage your arms.”

I take the phone from him and look at the headlineHockey Love Triangle Erupts into On-Ice Fightcentered over three pictures of Beau and Ramona hugging at the arena, the two of us locked in a passionate kiss, and a grainy photo of the fight thatbroke out during practice. From the way the photo is framed, it looks like Beau is taking a swing at me and not Crosby. My eyes fly down the page, reading lie after lie that Annamarie has framed perfectly to paint Beauty as a homewrecker of epic proportions.

“That’s the tamest of the articles that have popped up all over the internet.” Beau grabs his phone, replacing it with mine before grabbing the gauze wrap from the first aid kit. “I’m not sure if this is enough, but it’ll have to work until we can get a professional to look at them.”

I swipe my thumb across my phone and scroll through my missed calls until I find the one I’m looking for, a plan forming in my mind. I was planning to make this a private event with just Beauty and me, but this changes everything. First, I have to run things by Remy, but then I need to see Ramona and tell her everything. Absolutely everything. No more secrets or half truths. It’s time my beauty learns my darkest secret.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Ramona

My eyelids flutter open as a rhythmic beeping sound reaches my ears. I try to turn my head, but it doesn’t move, and there’s a pain in my right hand every time I move it. Bright-white lights fill the room, but I can’t figure out where I am. The only thing I can see is the stark white of the ceiling.

I blink a few times, the smell of antiseptic filling my nostrils as I slowly remember what happened. I was accosted by a pack of gossip-hungry reporters when I left Cooper’s apartment. Stanley tried to warn me, but I wasn’t listening and ran right into them. Their prey served up to them on a silver platter.

I remember smashing my head on the concrete before I passed out. My hand instinctively raises to the spot on my temple. I wince as my fingers brush against my skin, now covered with a bandage. Nothing was too painful until I touched the wound. They must have given me some serious painkillers. Thank goodness or my head would hurt like a bitch.

I slowly move my arms and legs, testing to see if anything else was injured, and find my ankle encased in a small black boot of some sort. I guess this is something more serious than a sprain if they fitted me for this thing.

“Hey there.” Alise’s face appears above me. Her eyes are bloodshot, lines of black mascara staining her cheeks. “I know Cooper calls you Beauty, but don’t you think this is taking things a little too seriously?”

“I aim to please.” My voice cracks slightly from lack of use. I try to sit up again, but flop back down on the bed. “A little help here.”

“Oh shit, my bad.” The top of the bed slowly rises, and I finally get a look at the room.

I’m probably in a semi-private room, but it’s modest, nothing over the top. The walls are painted a soothing blue color, and the entire right side of the room is covered in windows, giving me a clear view of the city. The sun is shining brightly, a very rare occurrence for this time of year in the Northwest.

“Do you remember what happened?” Alise presses a red call button on the railing of my bed, no doubt letting them know I’m awake.

“I was fucking accosted by reporters when I came out of Cooper’s building. Stanley tried to get me back inside, but they had me pressed against the door. The last thing I remember is someone running into me and me hitting my head.”

“That crazy-ass fucking bitch, Annamarie Sutton, made up some bullshit story about you playing Beau and Cooper against each other. A few different versions of the story were splashed all over the internet late last night.”

“She said he was going to regret it.” I struggle to sit up, grabbing the railing next to my bed and noticing the small needle stuck in my hand. “I should’ve known that she was going to do something shady to get Cooper to leave me, but that bitch has another thing coming.”

Alise slams into me, burying her face in my neck as wetness collects on my skin. “I’m fine, girl. It’s going to take a lot more than some reporters to stop me.”

“I was so terrified. You and Cooper in the hospital at the same time is just too much for me to handle.”

“What happened to Cooper?” The beeps on the monitor quicken as my heart rate increases. “If she did anything to him...” I rip the small needle from my right hand and pry her arms from my neck.

I try to swing my legs over the edge of the bed, but Alise stops me. “Sit your ass down, young lady. You have a concussion and have been unconscious for the last three hours after being trampled by reporters. Not to mention a level three sprained ankle and dislocated shoulder.”

“I need to see Cooper.” I try to climb out of the bed again, but she grabs my booted ankle and moves it back onto the bed before grabbing the other and throwing the blanket back over my legs.

“He’s with a doctor of his own right now, but he’ll be back as soon as his hand and arms are stitched up.”

“Stitches?” I screech, my mind trying to understand what she’s saying. Cooper was sound asleep when I left the apartment. I know he would have been worried about me when he woke up to find me gone, but how the hell did that lead to him needing stitches?

“He put his fist through the bathroom mirror. Beau found him passed out in the bathroom, shards of glass stuck all into his arms and hands. He was just lying there, bleeding and alone.” She hiccups, tilting her chin into the air. Her eyelashes flutter as if she’s fighting not to cry.

“Wh-wh-what?”

“I thought I’d lost you.” I whip my head toward the door to find Cooper shuffling into the room, Beau right on his tail. His arms are spread on either side of his brother, waiting to catch him if he falls.

Alise strides right toward him, pulls her hand back, and slaps him hard across the face. His head reels back slightly, but hedoes nothing to retaliate. He just stands there, his head cast down as his eyes look anywhere but at her.

“You fucking asshole. How dare you? How fucking dare you!”