Page 104 of Blindside Me
Powerful words that have devastating consequences.
Drew had broken free by then, driving Roman backward into the boards. The crowd erupted, some in horror, others in savage delight at the unexpected violence. I stood frozen, unable to process what was happening.
Coach Howell’s face had darkened to a dangerous shade of red as he rushed onto the ice. “Klaas!” he’d bellowed. “Enough!”
It took three of Drew’s teammates to pull him off Roman. Blood streaked both their jerseys, Drew’s knuckles, and Roman’s face. The raw fury in Drew’s eyes had been terrifying. He never looked at me as they escorted him away. Not once.
I’d stood there, composure splintering, sick with what he’d done and steadied by the fact he did it for me. No one had ever fought for me before. Certainly not my mother, who abandoned me for whatever man caught her attention that week. Not my uncle. No one fought for Jade Howell.
Until now.
“Hey,” Callie says, concern lacing her expression. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I blink, pulling myself back. “Yeah, sorry. Just ... rehashing it all.”
“It was intense,” she agrees, leaning against the wall. “I’ve never seen Drew lose control like that. He’s always so ... contained.”
That’s what rattled me. Drew Klaas may be a wild cannon off the ice, but on it, he is disciplined, focused, and controlled. Tonight, he snapped. Because of me. Because someone had said something about me.
I check my phone again. Still nothing.
Maybe he’s not texting because he knows it’s over. Maybe Coach already made the call.
“He probably had his phone taken away,” Callie offers, clearly trying to make me feel better. “Or maybe he’s just trying to cool off before talking to you.”
“Or maybe he regrets it,” I say, voicing the fear that grows with each silent minute. “Maybe he’s realized I’m not worth the trouble.”
“Jade—”
“It’s fine,” I cut her off, not wanting pity. “It’s not like we were official or anything.”
The lie tastes bitter. Because we were. We even talked about it with my uncle. They don’t know how Drew’s shoulders relax when it’s just the two of us. Or how he actually laughs, a real, unguarded laugh, at my terrible jokes. Or the intensity when we’re together, like he’s memorizing every detail.
But this radio silence says plenty. I know the pattern too well.
“They always leave when it gets hard,” I mutter, shoving my phone into my pocket. “Always.”
“What?” Callie asks.
“Nothing.” I push off from the wall, suddenly feeling exposed. “I should go. I have a paper due Monday.”
It’s a weak excuse, but I need space. Need to stop waiting outside a hockey rink for someone who can’t send a text.
“Jade, Callie!”
I turn. Amanda and Maddie hurry toward us. Amanda’s bundled in a university hoodie, and Maddie, looks perfect as always, even after a three-hour hockey game.
“You want to ride with us to Barton’s?” Amanda asks, green eyes bright.
I pause, wondering if I heard right. “Barton’s?”
“Yeah, to catch up with the guys.”
A flicker of hope ignites, followed by irritation. At myself. Because what the fuck?
“Is…” I pause, trying to sound casual. “Is Drew going?”
The look that passes between Amanda and Maddie says it all.
