“Yeah, I do, actually.”
“You were a child, Knox. How could you possibly think you deserved such abuse?”
Guilt and sadness seep in even though I try so hard to shut it out. I squeeze my eyes shut at the onslaught, trying to block out some of the pain.
“It’s okay to feel,” she whispers. “You have to allow yourself to feel if you want any chance of being able to let go.”
“I just need more time, Savi,” I finally say when I’m able to speak. “There are a few things I need to do before I can even begin to try to let some of this shit go. I’m not even sure it’s possible.”
“All I’m asking you to do is try. If not for yourself, then do it for your mom,” she adds quietly. “She would want you to be happy.”
All I do is nod because that’s all I can do. My heart feels heavy in my chest, and my throat is locked up tight.
As always, Savi knows exactly what I need as she dims her light and settles next to me, just giving me the silence and time I need to rein in my emotions and regain control again.
Turning down my light as well, I lie down and let her presence calm me as I listen to her soft breathing until she finally drifts off to sleep.
I replay her words over and over in my head, knowing deep down she’s right.
Ever since my mom died, I learned the only way for me to survive was to shut off my feelings. If I didn’t, I would drown in them with no hope of breaking through the surface. Hockey was my outlet for the anger and pain I kept hidden. Until now, I thought my life with a successful career and women to briefly fill a void for the night was enough, but now I’m not so sure.
Glancing over at my iPad, I trace her features with my eyes and feel that same pull I felt the first day I met her. She makes me feel less broken…less shattered. I feel happier when I’m around her, and things seem less heavy. She makes me want more, and that scares the absolute fuck out of me.
She said I pulled her from her darkness, but she’s always been the one constant light for mine. Maybe it’s time I try to finally step toward it instead of merely existing with what I’ve always been kept in.
I watch her sleeping until my eyes get too heavy to stay open, and as always with her, I easily fall into a deep sleep with her by my side.
TWENTY
KNOX
I hitthe boards hard with a grunt as the body behind me slams into the glass.
Motherfucker.
After our win against New York the other night, our team is amped up and determined to bring home a double win for our fans.
Boston isn’t making it easy, though. They came to play hard tonight and draw some blood as I watch another fight break out, stopping the play.
One of their players next to me starts to intervene, and I block his way. I know McCormick can hold his own, but I’m not allowing a two-on-one. Neither is the rest of my team, as we pair up to stop any other involvement.
Gloves are dropped, and we watch as McCormick throws a few hits before dodging the ones aimed at him. The refs wait until McCormick takes the other player to the ground beforethey finally break them apart, sending them both to the penalty box.
I see Morris eyeing me a few feet away, and I can tell he’s biding his time before he comes at me. We’ve been playing this cat-and-mouse game all night, and I know he’s not going to leave this rink without throwing a few hits my way.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins, and it’s scary how much I’m looking forward to it. If he wants to try again this year to bring me down…let him.
“Watch your back, Stone. Morris is out for blood tonight,” Kane says quietly as he skates by me to get in position.
“The bastard can try,” I chuckle, skating into place for the face off.
I glance up at the scoreboard and double-check the time. Eight minutes left, and with a score of three to three, we need to dig deep for that last net shot. I know the guys are exhausted and took a beating with some of their hits, but I have no doubt they will push through the pain and give one hundred percent up until the very last buzzer sounds.
Puck is dropped, and I snatch it up, passing it to Hayes, who circles around the goalie net before sending it down the rails to Foxx at the centerline. Foxx sees a shot and takes it, but it bounces off the pads of their goalie before one of their players takes control and brings it back to our side. Blade crouches low and focuses all his attention on the small black object.
They take their shot, but he deflects it off his stick, sending it straight to Kane, who maneuvers it back and forth on his stick as we all race to the other side.
Kane shoots it to Foxx, waiting for him at the far end of the center line. The other player is on him hard as he turns his back to him to stay in control of the puck before sliding it toward me.
