The clock is waning, and we’re about ten minutes into the period. Nilsen is following their right winger hard as he plows down the ice headed straight for me. He rears his stick back and shoots. The sound of the puck hitting the goal post and dinging is a relief. Defense hits the puck to the other side of the ice, and I take a moment to kiss the goal as a thank you for saving my ass.
Every moment ticks by, each minute feeling like the longest of my life. Until there's only about four minutes left. The Sharks pull my brother from the game, playing six men on the ice, and I’m more diligent than ever watching the puck.
Eli takes the puck from one of the Sharks players and pulls a long shot from our defensive side into the empty goal. He scores, securing our spot completely. The crowd goes insane, and my heart beats rapidly in my chest. The adrenaline of the game buzzes through me like an undercurrent, and it’s like every nerve ending is on fire.
The next few minutes feel like a blur as we hold our lead and the final buzzer sounds.
Everyone is on the ice as we hold each other and music plays. Everything is so fucking loud it’s nearly hard to think.
We won the fucking Stanley Cup.
Alexi is in my face, and we’re holding each other, but I can’t think. Something doesn’t feel right. There’s been no drop off of adrenaline; my heart is still hammering in my chest. My skin feels itchy, and all I want to do is peel off all this gear and take care of it.
I hold it together, thinking that it’s just too much at once and my senses are fried. Alexi is speaking to me, but I can’t hear, the noise being too much. Everything is too much.
My chest hurts, but I stay standing. There are some announcements as the Cup is brought out, and Alexi takes it first to do his rounds. He kisses it as he skates down the one half of the arena. The fans are loud, but it all sounds like a cacophony of noise in my head. It rattles around like one loud noise.
I can’t think.
My chest hurts.
Alexi skates back to the team, and he hands me the Cup. Me. He hands me the Cup out of all the people on our team. My arms are weak, but I take it in my hands and skate the same direction he did. Holding the Cup up.
My vision is hazy. I can’t see where I’m skating.
My chest hurts so fucking bad. I drop the Cup, and all I can feel is pain and the cold ice against my face.
CHAPTER39
Winning the Cup with Owen is single handedly one of the best experiences of my life. I’m on a high after I hand him the heavy trophy and watch as he skates slowly over to his goal, and on his way back, I watch in absolute horror as he drops it and falls to his face.
I’m there immediately, and so is half the team. Family members are now on the ice to help us celebrate. With normal shoes on, Piper nearly busts her ass getting to us.
Medical has him flipped over; he’s hardly conscious with his hand is gripped over his chest. I feel like I’m fucking dying as I look at him. What was one of the greatest moments of my life has suddenly turned to one of the worst.
Piper is barely functioning. Her hand is on his shoulder as the medical team calls an ambulance and discusses what to give him, getting a stretcher to get him off the ice.
“Owen, we’re here. It’s going to be okay,” I tell him, and Piper sobs as she holds his hand. Owen isn’t responsive, but he is breathing, even if it is labored.
He leans to the side and vomits. His face is clammy, and the medic is checking his pulse and his hands. I look at him questioningly as he glances at his fingernails and back at the medic.
“Give him Naloxone,” the one medic says.
“He didn’t do any drugs.” Piper looks pissed at the medics, and I’m just feeling confused as to why they would assume he took something. Could some of his suppressants be doing this to him?
“It’s our best bet before the ambulance gets here,” the medic says, not saying that Piper is right or wrong, but trying to explain why they’re doing what they’re doing.
Owen groans as they administer it, and Piper chokes down a sob.
“I know it hurts. We’re going to get you help, baby. Just hold on, okay?”
The ambulance is finally here, and Owen is getting carted off while they talk to Piper and I as they work on getting him stable. We go through the locker room and the back entrance to get to the emergency vehicle. It feels like time is moving at warp speed while also moving in slow motion.
“Is there anything else we should know?”
“He’s an Omega, and he’s on multiple medications.”
We both go to shove ourselves in the back of the vehicle, and the medic shakes her head. “Sorry, we can only take one of you.”
