Page 121 of Ruthless Game

It hadn’t hurt the first time, when I was a kid. This time, it felt like there was an anvil crushing my whole body, a vise pinching my skull, and fire burning in my throat.

But dying was okay, because there was an angel in front of me. Blonde curls and a halo, she murmured something I couldn’t hear.

Emma better not be dead. This better just be some kind of torture or comfort.

Max.

Max.

Max, I love you.

Wake up.

Oh my god, he’s awake.

“Touch me, Angel,” I thought I heard myself say.

“Oh, thank god, thank god, you’re awake,” my angel cried, as it slowly occurred to me that she wasn’t an angel and I wasn’t dead.

Instead, I was in an uncomfortable bed in a white, sterile room, surrounded by my teammates, Emma sitting at my side, gripping my hands painfully in hers. There were scratches all over her face, neck, and arms, a suture on her neck, and a butterfly bandage on her cheek.

I probably looked worse. I certainly felt worse, especially my left arm, but I didn’t care. The pain proved I was alive.

“You died on me,” she said, or maybe accused. There was relief and anger in her voice. “Why the fuck did you come in after me? You can barely swim!”

“You really—” I coughed, tried motioning to my throat—or would’ve, if she wasn’t still squeezing my hands tight.

Asher, standing in the corner, must have understood what I was trying to signal, because he grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to Emma, who put the straw to my lips.

I drank greedily, cool liquid dousing the flames in my mouth and throat.

Finally, she pulled the bottle away, and I was able to speak. “You really thought I’d leave you in there to drown, Starburst? Take the chance that no one would get to you in time? Lose you? I told you already: I lost you once. Never going to happen, ever again.”

At that thought, I started to get pissed. “And what the hell were you doing, meeting up with him on your own? I’m going to do what these fuckers did and plant⁠—”

Jack coughed loudly, and I realized that Aviva and Tovah were also in my already crowded hospital room.

“You aren’t allowed to go anywhere out of my sight, ever again. If I have to fucking handcuff you to me every day for the rest of our lives, I will.”

“Been there, done that,” Isaac said.

Tovah turned to him. “Plant what?”

He put his hands up. “Let’s clear the room and let them recover together, okay, my Bashert?”

One by one, my teammates—former and current—and their girlfriends—those who had them, anyway—filed out of the room.

Asher stopped by my bed.

“Banged up real good, twisted your ankle, and broke your arm. You won’t be able to play for a while. You’re a mess.”

I laughed, but it turned into a painful cough. “Guess you’re about to get a lot more ice time.”

He nodded solemnly. “Don’t pull that shit ever again,” he said, voice gruff. “Otherwise who the hell do I have to compete against?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll always be the better goalie.”

This time, he laughed and sounded relieved. “I’m glad you finally got your head out of your ass and got the girl.”