Page 16 of Shot Through the Heart

My dumb ass thought that getting Stella alone in my car would be a smart move. For the past week, all I have been thinking was that I just needed to get her alone and everything else would just work itself out. Somehow, I assumed I could manage to get her to spill everything in the ten-minute drive to the stadium right out of the gate.

It isn’t until I catch sight of her shaking hands as she buckles her seat belt that it dawns on me how much of a colossal misstep I have made. I was so focused on what I wanted that it prevented me from thinking of how wrong my plan could go.

I don’t remember much from the accident itself. Most of my memories are from the hospital. It took over two days for me to regain consciousness, due to having gone straight into surgery and needing to be kept sedated.

But every now and then, in rare moments like this, a hazy image of being in the car after we were knocked off the road creeps in. Normally, it’s one I shove aside immediately, convinced it’s my mind trying to hurt me with what it would have been like to be awake on the scene of the crash.

However, right now there’s no stopping the blurry memory of Stella unconscious and bleeding in the passenger seat that flashes through my thoughts.

With a blink, I’m back to staring at her now. My teeth clench tightly as I try to separate the past from the present. It takes a moment of watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest, noting the color and life that paints her skin, and the way she grips the seat belt like a lifeline to remind myself where we are.

“Stella.” Her name leaves my lips, barely above a whisper, but I know she hears me. Her eyes close at the sound of my voice. I’m about to reach across the center console to comfort her when she lets out a heavy sigh and shakes her head.

“Don’t,” she murmurs, eyes still closed as she takes a few more audible deep breaths.

Planting my hands on the steering wheel, I grip it tightly and face forward. Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, I give her a few more seconds to herself before I try again.

“We can walk over. If we leave now, we should still be able to make it there with a couple minutes to walk in together.” It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve walked to the arena with my hockey gear in the Florida heat, and while doing it in my dress shirt and slacks isn’t ideal, it’s better than making Stella feel unsafe.

My plan to demand answers by forcing her to be in my company until she gives them is one thing. However, crossing the line and making her feel uncomfortable or triggered is not something I’m willing to do. No matter the pain she has caused me, and as much as I hate to fully admit it even to myself, I don’t want to see Stella hurting in any way.

“No,” Stella whispers. Clearing her throat, she finally releases her tight grip on the seat belt and opens her eyes. “I’m fine.”

She turns to me with another one of those damned forced smiles, the one I have no doubt would fool anyone else into thinking she’s truly okay. But even after years apart, I’m surprised to notice I can still read her like an open book. Her pale blue eyes lack the shine that’s normally there when she’s truly happy. The barely there twitch of her jaw gives away just how badly she wishes to drop the grin. Then I catch the way she fidgets nervously with the ring on her right hand, and I know I’m right.

Stella is holding herself together, hiding behind lies and hoping I won’t call her out on it.

The muscle in my chest tightens. Could she truly have forgotten that much about me to think I’d let something like this go?

Ignoring her words, I reach to take the keys out of the ignition, mind made up that I’d rather us walk and miss out on the photo op. Regardless of the fact that the whole reason she’s even here is to be seen with me, I won’t let her put herself through this.

“Greyson, stop,” Stella says, shooting her hand out to stop my movement. The feel of her warm, smooth skin practically burns against mine, freezing me on the spot. Unmoving and holding my breath, all I can do is stare at our hands.

Just as quickly as it was there, her touch is gone. From the corner of my eye, I watch as she tucks her hand under her thigh.

“I said I’m fine.” She pauses and it’s enough to make me move. Turning my head, I find her watching me with a soft expression that causes another squeeze in my heart. “If I weren’t okay, then I wouldn’t still be here. I know my limits. Just drive the car, Greyson.”

I watch her for a few beats more, weighing my options, only to land on the only logical one. If she says she’s fine, and even though she shattered what trust I did have in her, I have to believe she wouldn’t stay in my truck if she felt she shouldn’t be here.

With a single nod, I put all my attention on pulling out of my parking spot and heading toward the arena. After the accident, it took a bit of time before I got behind the wheel of a car again. My mom had even hired someone to work with me to gain confidence back on the road. While I am more cautious than I was at nineteen, driving has once again become second nature.

Until right now.

Even though the drive is short and simple, I spend more time triple-checking every lane merge, turn, and stop than I ever have. My plan to get Stella talking is long forgotten as I focus on proving to myself that I can get us there safely.

Stella doesn’t say anything either, so the trip over is only filled with the sound of our breathing and distant horns and sirens that fill the city streets.

By the time I pull into a spot at the arena and put my truck into park, we both let out loud sighs of relief. At the sound of the other, we catch each other’s shocked gazes and stare for a few seconds before she breaks out in laughter.

My eyes widen at the sound and sight of her beside me. Her hysterics should probably worry me, but all I can do is sit frozen in shock.

Once again, I try to remind myself that there’s a purpose behind all of this. That Stella is here for work and that I’m going along with this just to figure out why she left me. That is all.

But as her laughter tapers off and she flips the sun visor down to use the mirror to check her makeup, I realize just how much I missed hearing her laugh. Yes, it’s not a genuine one and I wish it weren’t a shock response, but the crushing reality is quite simple in this moment.

I would let Stella walk all over me, trample and crush my heart even more than I thought possible, as long as it meant I could bask in her presence for a few minutes longer.

Yeah, I am well and truly fucked.

---