Page 3 of Cross Checks

A slight smile tugged at the corners of Hank’s mouth. “Don’t mention it.”

Before we could say more, a team of paramedics swarmed around us. They were a whirlwind of professional efficiency. They gently moved me onto a stretcher, and I reached out for Hank’s gloved hand. I didn’t want him to leave too quickly.

He climbed to his knees and looked down at me, his bearded face helping me find some calm in the noise that surrounded us. He coughed. The smoke was hard on him, too.

“You okay, Chase?” he asked. I heard genuine concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I am, I think. Thanks to you.” I did my best to smile. My body was exhausted, but I still had waves of adrenaline juicing my mind.

Hank stayed with me while the paramedics checked my vitals. It was impossible to ignore the connection we forged in a few terrifying minutes.

I briefly squeezed his hand when the paramedics started to wheel me away. “Let me know how you get on,” he suggested.

Suddenly, I thought about how damn handsome the firefighter was. He was at least an inch taller than me, with broad shoulders and a beefy build. Hank had a full, dark brown beard and close-cropped hair.

“Will do,” I insisted as our hands came apart, my fingertips trailing down the length of his thick fingers.

When I neared the ambulance, Coach Z appeared. I saw worry etched into his rugged features. His eyes were watery like he’d shed a few tears.

He placed a hand on my still bare shoulder. “Chase, you had us worried. That firefighter back there, he probably saved your life.”

“Yeah, his name’s Hank.”

“You know him? I’ve exchanged a few words in the past, but not much.”

I smiled. “I know him now.”

While the paramedics slid me into the back of the ambulance, the world around me started to blur. My eyes locked with Hank’s one last time, and I thought I saw him nod. Next, fatigue assaulted me, and my mind drifted into memories of the game earlier in the evening.

I remembered the opening face-off. The arena was alive with the roar of the crowd. Under the bright lights, I readied my stick. Playing center was a far cry from my old days on defense. My buddy, Eddie, left his old position for a call-up to the NHL, and the coaches thought I could fill the gap.

A particular play in the game stood out in my memory. Late in the third period, the score was tied. I received a sharp pass from Jensen, and I pivoted to face the goal with the puck on my stick.

With a quick flick of my wrists, I sent the puck flying toward the net. It sliced through the air and evaded the goalie’s desperate lunge. The red light glowed, and the crowd cheered. It was a golden moment worthy of a highlight reel.

My teammates swarmed me, slapping my back and helmet, their faces lit with massive grins.

“That’s how it’s done, Taylor!” Jensen shouted.

Now, as the ambulance rolled away into the night, the game memory was a reminder to me how quickly a moment of unbridled joy could give way to terror. I remembered Eddie’s diabetic attack in the previous season and how I helped stop the tragedy in its tracks in that case.

Hank appeared in my thoughts again. In my memory, he stood beside me like a resolute warrior in a fight against disaster and destruction. He wore his full uniform, legs shoulder-width apart, muscular arms crossed over his chest.

And there was a smile on his face…definitely a smile. I closed my eyes and knew that we would meet again soon. The fates had brought us together for some reason. It was up to us to figure out what that was.

Chapter2

Hank

The wail of my fire truck’s sirens still echoed in my ears as I watched the paramedics slide Chase into the ambulance. Our eyes locked one more time, and I did my best to offer an encouraging nod.

I took his smile as an expression of gratitude, which touched me more than I expected. As the doors of the ambulance slammed shut, I stood, frozen in place, and I didn’t move until the lights started flashing, and they pulled away.

As the adrenaline finally faded, I repeatedly replayed the moment of Chase’s rescue in my head. I found a handsome man, wearing only a towel, lying curled on the floor with the fire raging all around. He looked so helpless, his hair still damp from a recent shower.

There is always a rush after saving someone, all the nerves firing, and a sense of real accomplishment. This time, however, it felt like more than that, and it was different.

Chase wasn’t just another person I’d pulled out of harm’s way. He was a strong, muscular hockey player from our beloved hometown team, the Cold Pines Cougars. Something else about him tugged at me, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

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