“Hey, Doc.”
“Hi, honey. Yourdad sent me the video of your friend.”
“Can you help?”
“Absolutely. Ifyou give him my number, he’s welcome to call me.”
“He’s actuallyhere now, if you have time,” I said.
“Oh, yes, ofcourse. Hand him your phone.”
I handed thephone to Huck, and he put it to his ear, and walked down the hall. “This isHuck.”
I wrinkled mynose, disappointed he wasn’t going to let me listen in, as I turned back to thestove and focused back on the bacon.
I heard hisvoice a few minutes later and turned as he walked out of the mouth of thehallway. “Yeah, Gina, I really appreciate your time. Sure. Okay, thanks. Talkto you this week. Okay. Bye.”
He grinned,setting my phone on the island and I cocked my head. “So?”
“So, she’s goingto get me in this week for an MRI, then we’re gonna go from there. She thinksshe can get me in with Dr. Patel some time this month. He owes her a favor,apparently.”
“I have afeeling a lot of people owe Gina a lot of favors,” I said matter-of-factly.
Huck closed thedistance between us, sliding his hands around my waist and touching his nose tomine. “Kinda wanna fuck you right now, beautiful.”
I shivered.“Who’s stopping you?”
“You sure?”
I pulled hishands away from my waist. “Yes, but… um… before that, I have to tell yousomething.”
“And I can’ttouch you while you do that?”
“Fulldisclosure?” I turned the gas off on the stove and faced him again. “You mightbe mad once I tell you.”
He frowned,leaning against my kitchen island with a nod. “Okay.”
“I saw thevideo.”
“You’re gonnaneed to be more specific. I hope to fuck you’re not talking about the video ofRobin.”
“Ah, no.” Ishuddered. “The one of you being pummeled into the ice.”
“Yeah,everyone’s seen that, Daisy.”
“Well, I hadn’tseen it before yesterday.”
He raised hiseyebrows and let out a sigh. “Ah, well, shit. Okay. So, why would that piss meoff?”
“Because I askedmy dad to do a deep dive into the guy who did it.”
“Did it?” Heshook his head. “What do you mean, did it? He’s already been sanctioned by theNHL, Daisy. We had beef, we dealt with it on the ice.”
“Um, no way, nohow, buddy. That was notbeef. That was a paid hit.”
“Jesus,” hehissed, running his hands through his hair. “What are you talking about? MarcCowan is a son of a bitch who didn’t get what he thought he deserved, and hewas pissed. He came at me when I wasn’t prepared, end of story.”
“That was morethan him being pissed off at you, Huck,” I argued.
