Page 79 of What If I See You

Gloves and helmets come off and punches are thrown. Every player on the ice is packed into a small space around the net leaving Barrett vulnerable once again. Referees blow their whistles and send both Henning and Oliver to the penalty box but the adrenaline is pumping and the energy is high. The entire arena is on their feet as the play continues with two less players on the ice.

Bodhi’s got the puck and passes to Griffin but Boulder intercepts it by checking Griffin hard into the glass. He slips and falls on his side just as Ledger comes speeding into the zone fighting for the puck with Chetlikov. Sticks clash and bodies rock and I see Griffin lift himself to his knees and then raise his arm to get his stick and then without knowing what the hell is happening, I see him grip his wrist and bend over. When he lets go of his arm for a moment blood splatters on the ice.

“Oh my God!” I gasp, bringing my hands to my mouth. “What just happened?”

Bodhi circles around Griffin and helps him to his feet, his glove covering his arm, blood splattered down his jersey.

“He got cut, it looks like,” Corrigan answers, watching on with me. Our eyes teeter between Griffin and the jumbotron hoping to see a playback.

“Where? Is he okay?” Bile rises in my throat as I look on in horror. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

Bodhi and Ledger help Griffin off the ice and then he’s swept down the tunnel and out of sight. There’s a quick replay on the jumbotron that looks like Griffin lifts his arm to grab his stick at the same time Chetlikov leans for the puck. When Chetlikov lifts his right foot off the ice, his skate blade slices Griffin’s arm.

Fuck!

Corrigan cringes. “Damn, I bet that one hurt.”

“What do I do? Is he okay? It’s just a cut, right?”

Scarlett nods with a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, babe. Just a cut. I mean it’ll be deep and will probably need stitched but I imagine he’ll be back in the game if he can get back.”

To my surprise, Griffin only misses about two minutes of game play given Boulder’s time out before he’s back on the ice.

“No way did they stich that,” Scarlett says, huffing a laugh and shaking her head.

“This late in the game?” Corrigan asks. “You’re right. He probably told them to bandage the hell out of it until the game is over.”

Of course that’s what he would do.

God forbid he miss his time on the ice.

Because my husband is a fucking beast.

But I hope he’s okay.

“You know,” Corrigan says, his brows arched, “Griffin’s going to need a really good night’s sleep after that tragic accident. His wrist is probably going to be super sore.”

“Totally.” Scarlett nods. “I imagine the only thing that would make that cut worse is having to rest his arm on the floor all night. Or worse, an uncomfortable couch.”

“Yeah. I mean, what if dirt from the floor gets down into those stitches?” Corrigan asks.

Scarlett points to Corrigan. “Could get infected.”

“Right?”

“Yeah.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, my God, you two! I hear you loud and clear, all right? I promise, I can take good care of my husband, thank you very much.”

“Oh, we know you can.” Corrigan says, smirking as she leans over and nudges me with her shoulder.

Scarlett nudges from the other side. “And you will.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

GRIFFIN

“Son of a bitch,” I cringe when Darius Clayton, our athletic trainer, peels off the bandages I begged him to wrap around my left wrist so I could get back out to the game. He wasn’t in favor of my returning to the game, but there was no way in hell I was going to miss the last couple minutes when we were still down by one point.

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