We’re a few minutes into the start of the first period, and I’m watching glimpses of it from the tunnel. Alec, Cam, Brett, Reed, and Jensen are on the ice with MacArthur between the pipes.
I forgot how pretty and strong of a skater Jensen is in person. Of course, I’ve kept up with his and my brother’s career over the last few years, even when we drifted apart.
My chest twists, as I know that it’s my fault for pulling away, all because Cole asked me to. I don’t know what happened to me during our relationship, what changed so abruptly inside of me. Part of it I know has to do with my attack; nothing’s been the same since then.
Cole had his hooks into me long before that day. Somehow, I gave him the reins over my life without skipping a beat. But he’s not in control anymore, and he hasn’t been since I decided to come to New York.
Jensen shoves one of the Sharks players before skating away, but the opponent doesn’t shake it off.
Alec passes the puck to Jensen as he flies into the zone. Out of nowhere, the Sharks player stretches his knee out and slams into Jensen, who goes airborne, flying across the ice and crashing uncomfortably.
My heart plummets, and my stomach rises to my throat as I rush toward the front of the tunnel, everything moving in slow motion.
The puck stays in play, but Jensen doesn’t get up. He’s rocking back and forth on his stomach, writhing in pain.
Oh God. No. No. No.
Please be fine.
The ref blows the whistle, ending the play, and a second later, Caitlin is being walked out onto the ice, Alec helping her across to where Jensen is writhing.
I can’t just sit here. I can’t just watch this.
She kneels down beside him as Jensen’s head rolls to the side, his pain-stricken eyes finding me through the open board door. The air is colder than ever as I suck in a breath, praying that everything’s okay.
He moves his arm, lifting it out to his side, and in the smallest movement, the biggest statement is made. His fingers, free of his glove, twitch toward me, beckoning me to him.
My feet are moving before I even realize it, jeopardizing everything I’ve worked for. But at this moment, I don’t care. The only thing I care about is getting to Jensen.
Striding into the bench, weaving through the concerned players, I approach the open board door as Helena calls my name sternly. But I ignore her. They can reprimand me later.
Cam spots me out of the corner of his eye and turns, skating over to me without question. I half expect him to tell me to get back to the bench, but he doesn’t. Instead, he bends his elbow and offers me guidance.
I slip my arm in his and step onto the ice, rushing toward where Jensen lies on the ground, Caitlin bent over, talking to him.
“Thank you,” I murmur to Cam as we quickly close the distance.
“Just help him,” Cam says, his voice pained and raw.
Reaching the huddle, I drop to my knees on the other side of Jensen, whose eyes are slammed shut, tears streaking down his temples and into his hair.
“What are you doing out here?” Caitlin asks me, but I keep my focus on Jensen.
“I’m here to help.”
His eyes fly open at the sound of my voice, his stare locking on to mine, shattering my heart at the agony wailing inside. The inner corners of his eyebrows are completely tilted up, as are his eyes.
He whimpers, his face contorting with despair, “Lain. Fuck, it’s bad, Lainey.”
Tears well in my eyes, and I swallow hard. He shakes his other glove off and lifts his hand, silently asking for mine.
Flashing my eyes to Caitlin, who’s watching me intently, I ignore all of the warnings telling me to act professional.
This isn’t just a job when it comes tohim. I’m not letting him go through this alone.
Sliding my hand in his, I pull it to my chest, leaning forward. “I’m right here.”
A sob rips through him, his breathing quickening, faster and faster. “Fuck!” he screams, cutting through the silence in the arena as the crowd waits with bated breath.
