Chapter 39 Wolfe
THIRTY-NINE
WOLFE
“Dad.” I try to sit up. “What are you doing here?”
Archangel not so gracefully falls out of the hospital bed, getting to his feet.
“The team called me. I’m your emergency contact.”
I need to change that immediately. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to come.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You could have called.” I go to reach in my pocket and realize all my shit got left in the locker room. Coach probably has it?
Dad doesn’t say a word, letting me work through it on my own.
“I don’t have my phone.”
“And it’s dead. I missed the first call from your team, and no one answered when I called back. The hospital also wouldn’t release anything to me, even after I told them who I was.” Dad hates when his badge doesn’t open whatever door he wants.
“HIPAA is a thing, and I’m an adult.”
He gives me a flat look. “And I’m still your next of kin, but they wouldn’t do anything for me over the phone, so I drove my ass up here.”
“I’m sorry you had to make the drive.”
“I don’t mind making the fucking drive. Are you really okay? What happened? The message I got said something about getting hit with a puck? Is that enough to warrant a trip to the ER?” He knows my propensity to downplay injuries.
“I didn’t want to come in, but because I blacked out, they told me I could have a c-spine injury and couldn’t be cleared to play if I didn’t come in.” I hate having to explain it to him. It makes me feel fucking weak.
I hate that I let him do this to me so easily.
“I guess the team would need that sign-off for liability. Will you be able to play? Because after losing the conference final, if you miss a game, you’re going to freak out scouts. And if you’re out for the rest of the season, the draft…” He shakes his head.
“I’m fine. I can go back to normal activity day after tomorrow.” Not like I fucking chose to get hit with the puck.
“You know what a critical time this is. If you lose the final four.” He knows he doesn’t have to say it.
“It’s just a rookie contract. With how the draft is now, my second contract will matter more.”
“But you have to get on a team where you can show what you’ll be worth.”
“You think the only way I can show how good I am is by being on a good team? The more shots I block, the better I’ll be able to show off my skills.
If I’m on a team that totally shuts down shots, I’m just standing there.
” I’m fucking annoyed and bordering on disrespectful, but not like he can hit me in a hospital.
And he’d never pull that shit in front of Archangel.
“I guess you got a point there.” He keeps looking between us.
“I’m not thinking about it. Just trying to get through the rest of the season.” I’m waiting for him to say something, but I don’t need to give him an opening.
“You two gonna need a ride back to the hotel?”
“No, I can get a car. You gonna head home?” I really don’t want him to be here any longer.
“Yeah, okay, I will.” He rubs his fingers over his mustache, choosing his words. “I guess the rumors are true then, huh?”
“What?” I ask, wanting to look at Archangel, but refusing to let my dad see any sign I’m not telling him the truth. If he taught me anything in my life, it’s how to stand up against interrogation techniques.
“I’ve heard rumors you two were a thing.
I didn’t believe it.” The best and worst part of my father is that his anger was never explosive; it smolders under the surface.
He’d never have gotten to where he was in the military or on the police force if he let his temper get away from him, but he’s calculating and pointed.
He won’t reveal it now, but he won’t tolerate his son with a man.
“Who told you any such thing?” I ask, keeping my calm because I know there’s no other way to deal with him. The second I get disrespectful, he won’t give me an inch. And I need to know who told him. No one I know or even interact with would be in his circles.
“If you don’t think I have the boys check up on my son, you’re naive.”
“You have cops stalking me.” I shouldn’t be surprised. I hate that I didn’t think of it. Of course he would have people checking up on me. Like abuse of power isn’t his MO.
“Making sure my son is okay is not stalking.”
“Right. And how would IA feel about it?”
He laughs. “Since we all do it, pretty sure that ship sailed a long time ago.”
Of course.
We fall into an awkward silence. I don’t know how to tell him to leave or if he’ll even listen.
“Whens your next game?” Dad says at length.
“Day after tomorrow is the regional finals, and if we win that, we go to Vegas for the semi and final,” I add the second part because I know he’ll ask.
“Sure you don’t want me to give you a ride back to the hotel? Or get you both something to eat?” Dad slides his hands into his pockets.
He’s being too nice, and I hate it. I don’t know what to expect.
“No, thank you.”
“Alright. I’ll be watching the game,” he says like a threat before leaving.
“I can’t believe he drove all the way up here.” I relax, not even realizing how much I’d tensed up.
“I guess I can see it from a next of kin thing.” There’s a tone to Archangel’s voice I can’t place.
“True.” I make a disgusted sound. “That was awful.”
“Why do you still talk to him?” He sits on the edge of the bed, but he’s still worked up and probably won’t lie back down with me, which sucks.
“Why do you still talk to your family?” I ask.
“Shots fucking fired.” He shakes his head. He pauses, then says, “He took that way too well, right?”
“Way too well. I’m sure he’ll explode later when there aren’t witnesses.”
“I didn’t even think of that. How bad do you think it will be?”
I don’t meet his eyes. “Bad. But it is what it is.”
“You can tell him we aren’t a thing.” Archangel chews his lip.
“I’m not going to fucking do that.” Now I look him in the eyes, so he knows how serious I am.
He turns to face me more. “Are you sure?”
“I’m fucking sure. It’s not his life, and I don’t owe him a damn thing.”
He slips his hand into mine. “We’ve had a lot of stuff that a romcom would make you believe would destroy our relationship.”
I laugh again, making my neck ache. “Please don’t curse us.”
“I’m just saying. Anyone else would have broken up.”
“I’m not just anyone. Maybe you should get that through your head.” I squeeze his hand teasingly.
“I’ll try after you give me a blow job.”
“I can’t believe we’re still on the fucking blow job!”
We both laugh.
We’re let out not too long later.
“You getting a car?” I ask, pulling him into my arms while we wait inside. Neither of us has anything but our uniforms.
“There’s no cars.”
“Son of a bitch.”
Because we’re in upstate New York, there’s not a damn thing up here, and everything probably closes at seven.
“What are we going to do?”
“I’m calling Seaborn to see if he can get Coach.”
Thankfully, Coach Hawke figured we’d need a ride or have an update, so he’s pretty easy to get ahold of.
I pull Archangel into my arms while we wait, leaning into him. “Can we tell Seaborn to go sleep with Lovelace? Don’t tell me no; I’m injured.”
Archangel rests his chin on my chest. “You’re going to use that for weeks, aren’t you?”
“I took a puck to the neck. I think I deserve at least three to five business months.”
“Months?”
“I said what I said.”
He rolls his eyes but says, “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, we can sleep in the same room.”
“Good.”
We fill in Hawke on the drive back and give him the clearance paperwork to give to the medical staff. He agrees the team doctor can check me out in the morning. We head to Archangel’s room to kick Seaborn out.
“Do you think taking it easy means no sex?” I ask as we take the elevator up.
“It absolutely means no sex.”
“What are the odds you’re abiding by that?” I stare at him, trying to figure out which way he’ll go.
“Says the no sex during the playoffs guy.”
“Fuck.”
We step out of the elevator and head toward the room.
“I’m not bothering to get my stuff,” I say, suddenly tired as fuck.
“I didn’t think you would.” Archangel uses his key to open the door.
Instead of having to evict a sleeping Seaborn, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, tense all over.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Everything okay with your dad?”
“I’m fine, but you’re going to want to see this.” He turns his phone around.