Cody’s fingers brushed along my arm. “Okay, baby. Just, please let me help when you have nightmares. I’ll be there for you. I promise. You don’t need that stuff.”
Yes, I did. Even in that moment, I wanted Cody to leave me alone for five minutes so I could chug a little more and let the booze numb me. I didn’t say that, though. I just nodded and let him lead me back into his room.
I didn’t sleep a wink that night.
Chapter 39
Cody
It hadn’t been easy for me to return to hockey after our time at the cabin. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the sport. However, suppressing the urge to be affectionate with Rafael was almost unbearable.
He could see how tough it was for me, so he’d do these adorable little things like wrap his arm around my shoulder between shifts or linger just a little too long during a celebratory embrace.
One time, he literally skated a heart around me on the ice.
Swoon.
I rode him reverse cowgirl after that one.
Not everything at home was excellent. For weeks, Rafael had been on edge. He hid it as best he could, but I knew something was gnawing at him underneath.
It scared the hell out of me, and I wanted him to get help so bad. The drinking was exacerbating it, too. I alsohatedthat he was hiding it from me.
It made my gut churn because I’d seen this movie before. The significant other starts drinking a little too much. Then, they start hiding it. Before you know it, your life and theirs are in shambles.
My mother’s words at the cabin echoed in my mind. Rafael wasn’t like my dad, but he had the same addictive tendencies. I wanted to put my foot down and say something, but I was also so scared of pushing him away.
I loved him so much, and we were finally together! Truly together. I didn’t want to lose that.
He told me hockey was his outlet. Now that it was mid-August and pre-season games had started, I hoped that his commitment to the sport would take his mind off the things that invaded his dreams and turned them into nightmares.
Rafael
We were in Maine, playing against a group of mean motherfuckers from Portland called the Thunderhawks. We were down by two, and Coach Hughes was seething. They’d roughed us up the entire game.
Five minutes were left in the third period. Theo and Henry, our defensemen, looked ragged after taking so many hits into the boards. I don’t know what the hell they put in the water in Portland, Maine, but whatever it was made these fuckers huge. Getting hit by one of them felt like being hit by a bus.
We faced off in our zone after an icing call. The puck dropped, and Asher snagged it with lightning speed. He passed it to me, and I bolted to the blue line, trying to get that biscuit away from our goal.
I approached the blue line when a Thunderhawk meathead lifted his stick and poked the puck out of my hands.
Fucker.
The puck slid across the ice, and I sprinted after it with the meathead hot on my tail. The puck was mine, but he shoulder-checked me hard. I stumbled back, cursing myself for possibly losing the puck, when Cody appeared.
He body-checked the meathead, throwing his shoulder into his side. He fell to the ice, and Cody was racing down it, heading toward their goal.
The Thunderhawks back-checked with a speed I rarely saw in an 18U league. I raced after them, hoping to catch up and protect Cody, when one of their players, number seventeen, delivered a brutal hit, throwing Cody into the boards and then slamming him into the ice. The ref blew his whistle.
Cody’s body flew through the air before slamming into the ice. He slid into the boards head-first and didn’t move.
“Cody!”
I bolted over to him—don’t think I ever skated faster. Cody’s eyes fluttered, his irises rolling back. “We need medical,” I screamed.
Bile crept to the back of my throat. It all happened so fast, and I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to hold him, but I didn’t know if moving him would hurt him more. What if his neck was broken?
The thought of it made me gag. My vision blurred as Cody’s limp body lay on the ice. What if he were injured badly?
