Page 91 of Cross Check Hearts

When I finally turn, the sight of my father standing in the doorway knocks the air from my lungs. His face is unreadable, a mask of careful control that I recognize from his worst losses. But his eyes… his eyes are darting between my tear-streaked face and my fingers intertwined with Declan’s.

Chapter40

Declan

My vision is fuzzy, and words sound like they’re being spoken underwater through cotton stuffed in my ears, but as I look from Hannah to Coach Dunaway standing in the doorway, it’s crystal clear to me what’s going on.

Coach knows. There’s no undoing or hiding it now.

But Hannah doesn’t seem to care, and that’s good, because I don’t either. Her eyes snap back to mine, and she brings my hand to her mouth to kiss it again, almost like she’s daring her dad to say something. The medical staff intervene though, prying my hand out of hers and telling her something I can’t quite make out about how they need to take me to the hospital.

“I’ll be okay,” I mumble to her, the words slurring like I’ve had a fifth of whiskey.

EvenI’mnot totally sure how true that is, but it seems to reassure her a bit, because she lets me go and steps back. One of the medics moves between us and puts a hand on her shoulder.

“We need to check him for a concussion and do a few CT scans, but we think he’s going to be okay,” the medic tells her, just loudly enough that I can hear it too. I can’t see Hannah’s face, so I don’t know if that does anything to bring her more comfort, but I breathe a sigh of relief myself.

Because the truth is, I wasn’t positive if I was going to make it through this. I’ve taken more than my fair share of hits over the years while I’ve been trying to make it to the NHL, but this is easily the worst one I’ve ever absorbed. One second, the hulking center for the Coyotes was hurtling toward me, and the next thing I knew, I was on a stretcher with a bunch of unfamiliar faces standing over me.

I wiggle my fingers just to see if I can move them, and they work so I try to do the same thing with my toes, and those work too. But when I try to sit up, a splitting pain makes it feel like someone has taken a jackhammer to my skull.

“Easy, killer. Not so fast,” one of the medics cautions, then helps me lie back down. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. All we need you to do right now is rest. Think you can do that?”

I almost nod, but after the searing pain I just felt in my head, I think better of it. “Yeah. I think I can handle that,” I croak out, and the medic smiles at me.

When he steps away, I can see Hannah again. Coach Dunaway is holding her tight in his arms, and her eyes are glistening with tears. He pats her back, clearly trying to comfort her, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

More than anything else, I wish it wasmeholding her right now. I’d love nothing more than to kiss her forehead and tell her that I’m going to be fine, that I’m not going to let this beat me.

It could’ve been so much worse.

That thought makes a pit open in my stomach as it hits me just how close I came to ending this dream I’ve been chasing my entire life. People talk all the time about how dangerous hockey is, but I never really took that risk seriously before now. Because it never mattered enough to me to scare me away.

The only thing I’ve ever wanted was to make it to the NHL, to live this dream.

And I easily could’ve lost that and so much more tonight if things had gone even a little bit differently. If the medics are talking about concussions and CT scans, then my career might still be in trouble, but I refuse to accept defeat. I have to believe that I’m going to pull through this. I don’t have another choice, because everything else in my life depends on it.

My mother’s face flashes through my mind, and I see the beaming expression she wore when she told me that Hannah had talked her into moving to Denver. None of that can happen if it turns out that this injury means I can’t play anymore. I’ll lose my place on the team and the money that comes with it. I won’t be able to take care of the woman who raised me the way I’ve always promised I would.

I can’t let that happen. Iwon’tlet it happen. Whatever is going on with me, I’m not going to let it break me or take away what I’ve worked so hard to get. I’ll beat this and get back up, just like I always do—because I have more reasons now than ever before to keep going.

As if she can hear my thoughts, Hannah glances over at me with tears streaking down her cheeks. She watches the medics get the gurney ready to load up into the ambulance that’s no doubt already waiting, and as they wheel me away, her eyes follow.

The worry in her expression kills me, and I fight the impulse to jump off this stretcher and race back to her. But I don’t have the energy or coordination to do it anyway, so I just lie back and watch the fluorescent lights flash overhead as the medics wheel me outside. Every little movement sets off a fresh stabbing pain in my head, but I just keep promising myself that I’m going to be okay.

The ride to the hospital passes in a daze, a symphony of lights and sounds blinking and chirping at me as an EMT gives me another once-over. But as the ambulance rolls along, my eyelids start to droop as the adrenaline of the game starts to bleed out of me, leaving nothing but exhaustion in its wake.

The EMT taps on my arm.

“Hey, stay with me now,” he says in a firm but kind voice. “I know you’re tired, buddy, but we can’t have you going to sleep until we’re sure it’s safe, so I’m gonna keep you talking, okay?”

“Okay,” I mutter.

My tongue feels like sludge in my mouth, thick and heavy and uncooperative, but at least I can speak.

The EMT asks me a bunch of simple questions, like what day it is, who the president is, and who my favorite hockey player is. I try to stay focused on his words and respond to them all, but the harder I try, the more tired I get until finally my eyes get so heavy that I just can’t keep them open anymore.

They flutter open again as the ambulance jerks to a stop and the EMT springs into action to offload me and the stretcher. A small team of nurses rush out of the ER doors to help him, and they instantly start peppering us both with questions about what happened and what’s already been done.

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