Page 236 of Risking the Pucking Defense

“No, please.”

I move closer to the TV.

Hayden’s not moving.

No. Not twice in two games.

No, please. No.

It’s not until he rolls onto his front, his gloved hands clutching his face, that I remember I should be breathing.

But while he might be moving, there’s more blood.

So much fucking blood.

I don’t hear a word the commentators are saying—my ears are buzzing with white noise, and the only thing I can think of is that I need to be there.

“Fuck,” I bark before I do something I never thought I would.

I race across the apartment, pulling on a hoodie that was thrown over a stool at the kitchen island. I shove my feet into my sneakers and grab my car key from the bowl in the entryway.

I don’t question myself as I run to the elevator, my heart trying to beat out of my chest, panic racing like ice through my veins.

When it doesn’t come fast enough, I turn to the stairs.

I can’t just stand here waiting.

I need to be there.

He needs me.

He—

I choke back a sob as I begin racing down the stairs as if I have the hounds of hell snapping at my ankles.

By the time I hit the ground floor, my legs and lungs are on fire. But I would do a million more flights if it would get me to him.

My car lights up as I run toward it on shaky legs, but I don’t stop for a second once I’m in the driver’s seat. I jab my finger into the start button and immediately put it into reverse.

It’s not until I release the brake a little and the car begins to move that I realize what I’m doing.

I stare at the white wall ahead and take a moment.

Hayden might be fine.

He could already be back on his feet and flying around the ice again.

But no matter how many times I tell myself that, I don’t believe it.

He’s not okay. That amount of blood is never okay.

I release the death grip I have on the wheel and shake my hands out.

If I’m going to do this, then I need to at least know where I’m going.

Putting the car back into park, I set about setting the GPS to the Blaze’s arena, which is a hell of a lot harder than it should be because of the way my hands are violently trembling.

“Get it together, Caldwell,” I hiss at myself as I press start.