Page 102 of Check & Chase
The cracks widen. Chase’s body begins to sink, the ice swallowing him while I stand helpless, paralyzed by fear and guilt.
“Emma!”
I jolt awake with a gasp, heart pounding painfully against my ribs. The bedroom is dark, illuminated only by moonlight filtering through the blinds, casting everything in silver and shadow. Chase is propped on one elbow beside me, his face etched with concern.
“Hey,” he soothes softly, brushing hair from my damp forehead with gentle fingers. “You were having a nightmare.”
“You were…” I swallow, the dream still too vivid, too real. “The ice broke. I couldn’t reach you.”
Understanding dawns in his eyes, and he gathers me against him, ignoring his own injuries to offer comfort. His chest is warm and solid beneath my cheek, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs against my hair. “Let it out.”
All the fear and tension I’ve been holding since watching him collapse pours out in heaving sobs against his chest. Chase holds me through it, his strong arms anchoring me to the present, to safety, to him.
“Sorry,” I hiccup when I can finally speak again. “I shouldn’t be falling apart on you. You’re the injured one.”
“Pretty sure there’s no rule about who gets to fall apart.” His thumb brushes away tears from my cheek with infinite tenderness.
We lie together after that, my head on his chest, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on my back. The moonlight continues its slow journey across the ceiling while the world outside sleeps.
“Never thought I’d end up here,” I murmur, half to myself.
“In my bed?”
“In love with a hockey player. After Tyler, I swore I was done with your entire species.”
“We’re not all assholes, you know.”
“No, just most of you.”
His hand continues its stroking along my spine, the repetitive motion as soothing as a lullaby. “For what it’s worth, I never thought I’d end up with a physical therapist. Not after Amber.”
The name hangs between us, a reminder of his own past trauma, his own reasons for avoiding emotional entanglement.
“Guess we both broke our own rules.”
“Worth it,” he says, and I feel the words vibrate through his chest.
The blaring of a phone jolts me awake the next morning. Chase groans beside me. “Make it stop.”
I fumble through the covers, locating his phone half-buried under a pillow. Jackson’s name flashes on the screen, making me hesitate.
“It’s my brother,” I tell Chase, who cracks one eye open.
“Answer it. Might be important.”
I swipe to accept the call, putting it on speaker. “Jackson? It’s Emma.”
A brief pause. “Oh. Uh, hey, Em. Is Mitchell there?”
“Right here, Anderson,” Chase calls, voice rough with sleep. “What’s up?”
Another pause, longer this time. “Just checking how you’re doing, man. After… you know.”
“Still have all my brain cells, I think,” he replies. “Knee’s messed up again, though.”
“Yeah, about that.” Jackson clears his throat. “The team wanted me to tell you… we’re covering your medical expenses. All of them. And the Wolves organization is making a formal statement condemning West’s actions.”
