Page 197 of Secret Obsession
I bend forward, elbows on my thighs, and wait. I scan each player from across the ice. How they move.
One catches the puck and comes charging toward me. The Hawks on the ice won’t be able to catch him in time, and suddenly it becomes a one-on-one play. I ready myself, everything in me dropping into the zone.
The way he shifts his weight. The angle of his blade against the puck, guiding it out ahead of him. I drift forward the slightest bit in the crease, ready for the shot. And when he takes it, it whips high and to the right. I push off and catch the puck in my shoulder. The padding saves me from a world of hurt—I’ve been hit there without padding, and my whole arm has gone numb.
The puck falls, and I dive on it at the same time that the player tries to take another swing. I land over the puck, still mostly in the crease, and cover it with my catcher.
I also catch his stick with my fucking face.
The impact rattles my bones. My head snaps back, and pain zings down my back. The hit pulls my helmet clean off my head. My body has no choice but to follow the momentum.
I vaguely hear a whistle blow, but my vision goes white and then black.
64
WILLOW
All hell breaks loose after Miles gets hit. Knox charges the player who hit his brother, colliding with him and knocking him into the boards. The other player doesn’t have any qualms about swinging back, and now they’re locked in an exchange. Knox seems to be only fueled by the fact that Miles isn’t getting up.
On the other side of the net, Greyson is beating the shit out of another player. Steele, Finch, and three others from the visiting team are locked in some mass huddle, too, all of them yelling. Crown Point players are leaping off the bench, and suddenly it’s chaos. Whistles are blown, the crowd is yelling.
The refs have their hands full trying to tear everyone apart, but my attention is on Miles. My heart is in my damn throat.
I reach for Violet’s hand, and she squeezes hard.
He’s not getting up.
“He’s moving,” Violet whispers.
“He already was healing from a concussion and the ear thing.” I shake my head and stand. I drop Violet’s hand to press both to the glass. “What the fuck are they doing?”
Medics have reached him. They kneel on either side, slowly turning him onto his back. There are too many people in the way, and my heart is going to explode with not knowing.
Finally, one gets up and hurries back to the door. He returns a moment later with a stretcher.
The fighting breaks up suddenly, as fast as it began.
You can hear a pin drop in the arena.
Knox drops to his knees beside his brother. He leans over him, dripping blood everywhere—from his nose, his mouth—and only swipes an errant hand through it to stem the flow.
They load Miles onto the stretcher.
“Come on,” Violet says, taking my arm and pulling me toward the aisle. “Willow.”
I cast a glance back at my sister. She seems horrified, her hand over her mouth. This isn’t exactly how I envisioned the wholemeet the boyfriendthing going.
I leave them sitting there without a word and race up the stairs with Violet. We burst outside and circle the arena to the players’ entrance, just in time to see Miles being loaded into an ambulance.
My stomach twists.
“Wait!” I rush forward.
They either don’t hear me or don’t want to wait, because only a moment later, the ambulance pulls away.
I’m tempted to chase it.
Strong arms catch me around the middle before I have a chance to take a step off the sidewalk. They put me on my feet with my back to the building.
