Page 65 of Fool Me Once

“Yes, he is, sweetie,” Paige says, and I’m not sure if it’s Amelia or me she’s trying to convince. “He’s gonna be just fine.”

What seems like an eternity later—but, in reality, is only a matter of a few minutes—Smith sits up. The refs attempt to grab his arms to help him, but he shoves them off him and shoots up. I know why he’s in a hurry to get up, and I’m sure the refs are starting to put it together, too, because they rapidly scramble to call out something and send the opponent to the sin bin. Before they can, Smith starts toward him, his shoulders tense and his body language hard.

I can read him like a book, and I know he’s out for revenge.

Smith’s hand grips down on number nineteen’s shoulder, when, suddenly … he turns his neck toward where all of us girls are sitting. His eyes land on mine, and I swear I see him grimace. Within seconds, he lifts his hand off the other player, and he turns hastily on his skates, moving away from him.

He wanted to fight him, he wanted vengeance, and yet he didn’t follow through because he thought I wouldn’t like it.

I told him before, and I’ll say it again—Smith Sawyer has done some serious growing up. And now … he really is a better version of himself.

That makes the waiting so much harder.

The coach brings him out of the game—I’m sure as a precautionary after that hit. As time runs out and the Sharks bring home the victory, my heart won’t stop pounding quickly in my chest.

I know hockey is a dangerous sport. Even back in high school, it was hard on Smith’s body. But seeing the type of hits these players take in the pros leaves me sick to my stomach, and I glance over at Paige, knowing damn well she must be scared for the day her husband goes back onto the ice. After all, the last time he did, he had a freaking heart attack.

I can’t imagine watching something like that happen to Smith. I hope I never have to either.

Even though the Sharks are victorious and do their share of celebrating on the ice, Walker’s, Logan’s, Ryder’s, and Tripp’s first concern is Smith and checking on him before they show their excitement over winning the game. Even Kolt stands by Smith’s side, making sure he’s okay. It’s so obvious this is his family now. And when I look at the group of girls I’m with, I hope I’m lucky enough to always stand among them because they are incredible.

In the midst of the chaos, Smith looks up at me, and finally, he turns his lips up in a crooked grin, somehow letting me know he’s fine. My heart flips, and I smile like a giddy teenager. We might not be together, but he’s the only person on the planet who could get that sort of response from me.

There’s no denying how in love I am with that man.

With Storm just in front of me, I trek back down Kolt and Paige’s driveway after a long walk around the subdivision. For the second time since I’ve been living here, I went down to the shore with the intention of looking for sea glass. The snow made it hard to find much, but once I got down there, I froze up a bit and instead just stared out at the ocean.

One day, I’ll get my love back for the glass of the sea. I know it.

My boots crunch against the snow that fell days ago, and even though it’s chilly out today, there is zero wind, making it tolerable.

Walking with Storm helps to clear my mind and make me forget about everything else. I can’t believe Smith let him stay with me, but I’m so grateful that he did because Storm has helped me more than I could ever put into words.

My phone vibrates in my jacket pocket, and I pull it out to see my mother’s name before swiping my finger across the screen.

“Hey, Mom.” I smile. “Whatcha doing?”

“Sweetie, hi.” She sounds frazzled.

Instantly, I worry something is wrong with my dad. He’s been doing so well, but with cancer, you can never get too comfortable.

“I just got a call from an officer in California. He’s been trying to reach you, but given that you don’t have the same number anymore, he hasn’t been able to.”

I feel sick to my stomach, wondering what this could mean. I didn’t press charges the night I left because I knew it wouldn’t matter if I did—he’d get out regardless. His family is too rich and powerful to keep him there. I also didn’t because I did not want anything tying me to California, and I knew that had I gone ahead with charges, I would have been expected to go back and forth to court.

I didn’twant to risk seeing Richie. I wanted to leave that life behind.

“Why?” I blurt out. “I haven’t—I don’t—”

“Don’t panic, baby. You’ve been doing so well, and I don’t want you to spiral. He couldn’t tell me much, but he said that Richie has some charges pending against him, and while the victim was building her case … some footage surfaced.” She stops. “Footage that has you in it, I presume. I told him you were fine, but he said he really needed to speak with you.”

“Why though? What does he need?” My brain begins to spiral, even though my mother told me not to. “I didn’t press charges, so regardless of whatever footage they have, what does this have to do with me?”

“I’m not sure, but I still think you’d better call and see.” She’s almost whispering now. “Gemma, this could be your shot …” There’s a short pause. “To get justice for everything he’s done. Not just to you … but for whoever this other victim is too.”

I know she has a point, and I do feel some sort of duty to help whoever this victim is who was brave enough to press charges—unlike me, who was too much of a coward to even think about going up against Richie and his family. But this could mean having to go back to California and facing the monster of my past, and truthfully, I don’t know if I’m strong enough.

“All right,” I finally say. “Can you text me his name and number?”

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