Part 3 (1/2)

Taking a seat before I fell over, I sat beside her and automatically reached for her hand that rested on top of the blanket. Gently, careful of the IV, I held it in mine. Her hand was so tiny it made mine look huge. Slowly, I lifted my head to her face. The chest tube was taped to the right side of her mouth, her lips swollen. My eyes were drawn to the large cut above her eye. She still had that was the thick white bandage around her head.

I looked away again, an angry growl emitting from me as I tried to not punch the f.u.c.king wall.

What the h.e.l.l? I thought to myself. Why was I having such strong feelings about this?

I could feel the anger course through me in waves. One minute I would be fine, but the next, I wasn't, and my face would get hot, and I wanted to find the guy.

s.h.i.+fting back and forth in the chair from nerves, I mumbled, ”Hang in there, Ami.” My thumb stroked her hand once before standing. While I intended on leaving, I couldn't. I sat back down until Wendy came back three hours later and told me the doctors would be making rounds soon and that I should leave. So I did, but not without one last glance, one I shouldn't have taken because it was a memory I would never forget.

When I got back to the waiting room, I couldn't leave. I just stood there watching the snow fall in the same spot I had when I started the day. Again, I thought about what would happen if she didn't make it?

”Hey, man.” Leo came to stand beside me, his phone in hand, typing out a message. ”Wanna get some food. It's Christmas.”

Leo caught onto the look on my face and smiled. ”Come on, head case. Maybe the cafeteria is open.”

”I thought you were with Wendy?” I asked when we walked toward the elevators.

Leo looked over at me, his attention diverted from his phone as he ran a hand over his smirk. ”I was. You were in her room for like an hour. I didn't need that long with Wendy. You saw those f.u.c.king legs, right?”

I let out an amused laugh but didn't answer.

”A man only has so much restraint, and besides...” He tucked his phone in his pocket when the elevator stopped and we walked to the cafeteria. ”...You need someone tonight.”

”I'm fine, Leo. You don't need to babysit me.”

”I know. I want to be here with you.” His eyes followed a tall redheaded nurse as she walked around the corner. ”For a lot of reasons. Je-sus!” He shook his head. ”Do they make it a rule in this hospital that you have to be smoking f.u.c.king hot?”

”No idea.”

We ended up getting some food. None of it looked appealing, but we ate regardless. ”What did you guys end up doing the other night?” I asked Leo, wondering how much trouble they got into when they went out after the Detroit game.

Leo groaned. ”Man, it was a f.u.c.king disaster. Remy got into a fight with some a.s.shole that was already roughed up when he got there. Remy pushed him and then I don't even know what happened to Dave and Travis. I ended up meeting up with them in the morning for a little while, but I can't remember half the s.h.i.+t that happened.”

”When did you guys get home?”

”Four? I'm not sure. I met back up with Dave and Travis around seven. I think. They both looked like h.e.l.l. I didn't realize they took so many licks in that game with Detroit, but man, both of them looked like s.h.i.+t. So do you, by the way.”

I did look like s.h.i.+t. I knew that. I had no idea what I looked like but the memory of standing in the shower this morning, was.h.i.+ng away an innocent girl's blood gave me an idea as to my appearance.

And then I thought about Ami, and nothing compared to what that girl went through, or what she was about to go through.

Game 37 Nashville Predators.

December 26, 2009.

The morning was cold and dreary, which didn't help my mood, as I drove from my condo to the airport where we were set to catch a plane to Nashville.

Preparing for a game was all about routine, and for me it started early.

Before a home game, we had our morning skate at the United Center, followed by lunch. Then we went home. Some took naps while others just rested and mentally prepared themselves for the game. Usually I took a nap, but sometimes I would just lie there or watch TV.

Then we would head back to the arena for the game. After the game the guys would get together for dinner and drinks, not always, but most of the time. Away games were slightly different but mostly the same, aside from squeezing in travel and we weren't home ice.

The problem with my routine and my mood was that a f.u.c.king girl was wrecking it. A girl I hadn't even met. On one hand I was excited to get back on the road and play hockey, but on the other, I was a wreck because I had this girl in my head.

Worst of all, what happened to her haunted me.

When Coach O'Brien blew his whistle, the thought of Ami drifted and the unwanted drills began.

Our head coach, Mark O'Brien, was not someone who was easy to like, but he was respected. He didn't slap backs, fist-b.u.mp-nothing. The only way you knew you were doing well and he was happy was if he yelled at you. When he was silent, then you should worry.

If he talked to reporters after the game, he was all business, no smile, keeping his eyes above them.

It was a rarity, but if he took a player aside, he spoke to them and took the time to explain something that, to him, was annoyingly clear, they were able to get inside his head and see he wasn't that bad of a guy, just misunderstood.

And then he remembered who he was, and he was back to being not easy to like.

I was cool with him, never had any problems. I didn't care too much for our a.s.sistant coach, Duane O'Callaghan. Without any flair or f.u.c.king charm, he was about as abrasive as sandpaper and exploded for just about anything. He was Irish, too, if that told you anything.

Remy and Duane never got along. They couldn't even be in the same room together, and if he had it his way, he'd trade him, but we needed Remy. He knew that. I rarely felt favored by either coach, but I knew they ultimately liked me. Leo was their favorite because he scored more than anyone in the league.

O'Callaghan was leaning on the boards, yelling at Remy about something when my mind drifted back to the other night. I saw her lying in the snow and the blood she was covered in. The images of me in the shower, the blood, her blood, being washed away, but the memory still remained, still burned its way in my skin. Every single thought I had had s.h.i.+fted and was now about her. And it p.i.s.sed me off every time, and I found myself getting more and more aggressive trying to clear the thoughts.

I hadn't been on the ice since I found her. Leo noticed my mood our first morning in Nashville. When we were in the locker room prior to the game, he voiced this concern.

”What's your problem?”

”Nothing.” I tried to focus on taping my stick, but Remy wasn't letting me off that easy.

He shoved against my shoulder, sending me rocking slightly. ”Who's the girl?”

”None of your f.u.c.king business.”

”She got a sister?”

Leo gave Remy a look. ”Lay off man.”

”No way...” Remy continued pus.h.i.+ng, ”...you jerks are always baggin' on my girls. What's with you, Mase?”

Leo and I exchanged a look. His voice dropped to maintain a certain amount of privacy we didn't have in the locker room. ”Her family is dead. No, she ain't got no sister, and she's barely alive right now. Not exactly a time to be dis.h.i.+n' on her.”

”Oh.” Remy looked chastised.

”Yeah, don't be a d.i.c.k,” Leo said, reaching for the tape in my hand. ”Leave his girl alone.”

”She's not my girl,” I said, throwing my stick and walking away. ”She's just a girl.”

I thought maybe when warm-ups began the boys would drop the questions surrounding Ami, those that knew at least, but they didn't.

”Honestly, man, have you heard anything?” Leo asked, nudging me forward in the line we were waiting in, each one of us taking shots at the goal.