“She still tends to keep frustrations to herself, even at the practice. She’d much rather fix something on her own than address an issue with the way another person does their job.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, hating that for her. She doesn’t deserve to live that way, always in fear of confrontation.
And neither do I.
“I want to fix this,” I whisper. “I want her back.”
He looks elated. “That’s what I was hoping you would say. You both are amazing, man. Maybe you can’t see it when it comes to yourself, but I can.” He gently pokes my chest. “You make a killer couple.”
“But what if...” My mouth goes dry, my throat tight.
“What if what?”
“What if I mess it up again?” I rasp.
He gives me a blank look. “Oliver. What do you have to lose?”
I inhale that truth, letting it spread through my veins and take root in my heart. At this point? Nothing at all, and damn it if that doesn’t feel like freedom.
Tonight, for the first time in a long time, I decide to go for a run, not to punish my body, or to avoid thinking about the shit show that my life is, but because it makes me happy. Even though I haven’t gotten to see Devin since I left the ski trip, I know exactly what I need to do.
I’m going to apologize to her and beg her to give me a seco—well, third? fourth?—chance. The route that I’m taking hasbecome so familiar to me that I’m not paying much attention to my surroundings. My feet know where to go, turning left at the corner where the old maple tree has roots that buckle the sidewalk, continuing straight past the house with the wind chimes that sound like church bells.
Which is why it takes me by surprise when I’m hit from the side by a large body and tackled to the ground face down.
The impact knocks the wind from my lungs. Pavement scrapes against my cheek, and I taste copper on my tongue. I struggle against my attacker but he keeps his weight on top of me, pinning me down. My injured wrist is trapped beneath me, and the pressure sends white-hot pain shooting up my arm.
I feel breathing next to my ear, hot and uneven. “You got people checking into me, asshole?” A menacing voice whispers harshly.
I pause my struggle for a moment. “Bailey?”
He laughs humorlessly. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
Deciding I have nothing to lose, I start talking. “Is there a reason someone should be checking into you?”
“You can’t prove anything,” he says, avoiding the question.
I wiggle slightly. Trying to get my finger onto the button on my smartwatch that will send out an alert that I need help without Bailey noticing. Since he’s sitting his considerable weight on my back, with my arms pinned between us, I just need to wiggle my hands just a little bit closer together and hope I find the right button. My wrist screams in protest with every movement, but I grit my teeth and keep going.
Finally, I reach it, letting out a loud grunt to cover any beeping that might happen when I press the button. “Let me up, Bailey, and we can talk.”
“No,” he says, starting to sound desperate. His weight shifts, pressing harder against my spine. “There’s nothing to talk about. When I messed with your skates and it caused your shattered wrist, I was so happy you were gone. Finally, I could stop livingin your shadow and actually be the one in the spotlight getting the sponsorships, the women, the applause.”
I grit my teeth. “So it was you?”
He ignores my question. “But then, I saw an article about you taking this coaching position. I wanted to make sure you were still wallowing in depression and self-pity, and I had some unexpected time off, so I decided to come check on my old buddy, Oliver Paxton.”
I bark out a laugh despite my constricted airway. “Old buddy, huh?”
“Imagine my surprise,” he trudges on, “when I see that you’ve reconnected with Devin, and have friends, and a good job. Meanwhile, here I am, suspended from playing hockey, and my girlfriend broke up with me and is pressing charges for assault and battery.”
“That’s not my fault,” I spat.
“Living in your shadow did this to me.”
“No, you did this to yourself, Bailey,” I say, as I hear sirens in the distance. The sound starts faint, then grows louder, closer.
Unfortunately, Bailey hears them too and gets up to run. I act fast, and grab his leg, sending him to the ground. He grunts when his body makes impact but he recovers quickly and gets up, starting to run again.
