Page 73 of He Has Charm (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Twenty-Three
Harper
Ijump to my feet. Horror and fear explode inside sending my heart rate into a tailspin. Shelly stands and wraps an arm around me as if to protect me from the sight.
“What happened? Did he just collapse? There was no one near him.” She says what everyone is murmuring. The announcer doesn’t add any insight. But I know what happened.
“Oh my god, Shelly,” I whisper, “it’s his heart. I know it is.”
“What are you talking about?” She looks confused.
“He has a condition. That’s all I can say.” But the look on my face tells her everything she needs to know as I feel the tremors before I steel myself. She hugs me, and even though her support and understanding feels good right now, I make it a short hug.
“I have to go.”
“You go do what you have to do. Forget about me. I’ll be fine.” I give her a last quick squeeze.
“You’re the best, Shelly. Thank you for understanding, for being here.” I let her go and take off out of the row and out of the stands. I run past security down to the ice level to where the gate leads to the tunnel and locker room. Coach, the trainer and Delaney surround Maddox as several teammates help him off the ice. The trainer and Coach take over and lead him toward the locker room. He’s barely able to stand and move. I shove the security guy away when he tries to take my arm.
Maddox sees me, or I think he does because he’s looking straight at me, but he’s out of it, and hurting. He reaches for me as they move by. I hold his hand for a second before they lift him from his feet and carry him the rest of the way.
My heart hammers and tears of panic threatening to overwhelm me. I hold on because this is life and death—Maddox’s life. I get Delaney’s attention.
“We need to talk.” My words shake with emotion and resolve. The mixture is like steel in my veins as I pull her aside.
“What the hell—?”
“He has a condition,” I say low and close to her ear. No one else can hear this, but I trust her and I trust that she’ll get the message to the trainer or team physician or whoever needs to know to make the right decision about his care and treatment.
“What condition?” Her voice is low and wary, but there’s no doubt she’s paying close attention.
“A heart condition.” Boom. Delaney goes white and I know she’s thinking the worst, so I explain it as best as I can. “I’ll call his cardiologist in New Orleans, but you need to make sure he gets to the Mass General and make sure there’s a cardiologist waiting there for him.”
“Jesus Christ.” She has a lot more to say, but she holds it in and nods, then storms back down the hall and shoves through the locker room door.
As soon as I leave a message for Maddox’s cardiologist with his emergency service, I call Katy. Shit. I shudder with ripples of fear before I ruthlessly shove it all aside. I’m so grateful that we exchanged contact info when she visited. I shudder.
Be practical. That’s what he needs from me right now above all else. It’s all I’m allowed to give him because I have no standing, no reason for the team to let me in to see him.
“We’re leaving now,” Katy says when I fill her in. “Oh god, Harper. Do you really think it’s his heart?” I picture his face, how gray his skin looked, how weak and disoriented he was and I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m no doctor, but there was no reason for him to fall. He just… collapsed.”
“I saw the replay” Katy says. “The announcers were confused. I put a call in to Delaney, but she’s not answering.”
“She’s with him. I told her about the condition, to make sure the physician knows so they treat him accordingly.”
“I need to pack.” She sniffles and I hear a commotion, a man’s voice in the background, and I imagine her husband hugging her, consoling her. “I have to go,” she says. The call ends and I don’t have a chance to tell her I’ll let her know where they take her brother, or to tell her to call her mom and sister, but I don’t need to tell her those things.
I need to call Jett.
Delaney comes out out of the locker room and tells me the doctor says his heart beat is seriously erratic, meaning he’s in a-fib. “They’re taking him to the Mass General.”
I suck in a breath and clutch at my chest as if I’m having sympathy symptoms, but no. It’s fear tightening my chest and forcing my heart to beat wildly like it wants me to fight or give flight.
I’ve made that decision. I’m staying to fight.
“I’ll leave another message for his cardiologist letting him know.”
“Dr. Alvarez, the team doc, wants the name and number of his cardiologist. Maddox isn’t up to remembering and he told the doc you know.” She smiles a sneaky smile, out of place and not so out of place given this is Delaney. I give her the name and number.
