Chapter 29
KNOX
I’m slow on the ice. Even worse than at practice. It’s dragging the entire team down, and we’re playing like shit. After the pitiful performance of our second-string center, Grady Carver, while I was on the injury list, they sent him down to the minors and called up Theo Bishop.
I skate over to the bench when Coach Henry calls a timeout. “I think you should put in the kid,” I tell him. He nods, letting me know he’s come to the same conclusion.
“You’re in Bish, get this team fired up,” Coach instructs him.
The kid explodes onto the ice. He passes the puck out to Dante and assists in a goal. This gets the team going and they are able to battle back against Toronto to win the game three to two.
In the locker room I have to sit through interviews to reassure the press that the switch to our new center was out of an abundance of caution that I heal my shoulder to face our top rivals in Chicago, and not because I’m still injured.
Of course it’s a lie. I won’t be better this season, or ever.
That doesn’t mean I can’t still play a damn good game of hockey.
Maybe not as good as the kid, though. The thought comes unbidden into my mind, but I can’t deny the team might be in good hands with Bishop. He’s unburdened by injury, maybe he’s just unburdened period.
I didn’t see Sloane in the stands, and I feel off without her presence around me. I’m not a complete idiot. I know I fucked up royally this morning, but when we talk it will be fine. No one else seems to be in as big of a hurry to get back to the hotel as I am.
There’s a celebratory mood in the locker room. You’d think we just won the championship the way they’re carrying on. My knee bounces while I wait for the rest of the guys to finish showering and get dressed so we can catch the bus.
The ride back to the hotel is another exercise in patience. There’s still a lot of traffic leaving the arena. It feels like it takes hours to get to the hotel, but it’s only thirty minutes from when I checked my watch.
Finally, the bus pulls in front of the hotel. The aisle fills with everyone unloading their gear bags, further slowing down my ability to get to Sloane. When we hit the lobby Asher puts his hand on my good shoulder and turns me to face him.
“We’re going to drop our bags off in our rooms and meet at the restaurant here in the hotel. Are you in?” he asks.
“Uh, I need to—” There’s too many people around to tell him I need to meet up with Sloane. He’s aware there’s something going on with us, of course, since he caught us, but that doesn’t mean I want to advertise my relationship to the entire team hanging on our conversation.
Asher catches on fast, and nods. “Next stop then?”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” I agree.
Once I manage to get free I haul ass to the elevator. I don’t see Sloane, Sawyer, or Kendall waiting around in the lobby. The only one of the ladies I’ve seen is Delaney, and that was because she had to work.
“Sloane?” I call out when I open the door.
The lights are off, but I hold out hope she’s sleeping since she was up most of the night. I drop my bag down in front of the closet and turn on the lights. Maid service has come in, and there’s no evidence that anyone has been in here since then.
Maybe she’s out with Sawyer and Kendall, I tell myself.
After yesterday it’s understandable if she needs a break.
I decide to order room service and wait for them to come back.
I could call her, but if she’s needing space from me that won’t help my cause any.
I need to show her I can respect her boundaries.
Lord knows I pushed enough of them when this thing first started between us.
The first thing I need to do is get out of this fucking suit.
I play sports for a living. My entire job is performed with athletic gear and skates, and yet I’m expected to show up to work in a suit and tie.
We’re supposed to look like professionals, I get it, but it seems a bit outdated.
Why would they care if we showed up in nice casual clothes?
Would fans stop wanting to watch? They follow me around enough when I’m just trying to live my life to call bullshit on that.
I loosen my tie and check my watch. It’s after eleven o’clock.
I didn’t even think about the time when the guys were making dinner plans, because of course we are always starving after a game.
Add that to the fact that we’re famous and it’s become a normal occurrence for people to bend to accommodate us.
“Where the fuck are you?” I ask the empty room.
I hang up my suit and go to get a pair of gym shorts from my suitcase. My eyes roam over to my toiletries, but Sloane isn’t the only one I scared last night.
My shoulder is on fire, and the ice and shot of Toradol Dr. Frost gave me before the game barely put a dent into the pain.
I’m practically salivating for another dose of the oxy that Dr. Frost doesn’t know I’d gotten prescribed privately.
He didn’t even give me a dose of the Norco he had been giving me before last night.
But, the fact that I’m getting so distracted by a craving while I don’t know where Sloane is at the moment is another cause for concern.
Forcing my eyes away from my bag, I continue to my suitcase that’s sitting on the bench in the corner. That’s when I see the letter sitting on top.
My hands shake when I grab it and start reading, and this time not because I’m jonesing for another dose. After I read the words I let it flutter to the floor.
I grab a hoodie and slip my feet into my slides and storm down the hallway. Sawyer always makes sure we know what room she’s in just in case we need something. Right now, I need information, and her name popped up in the letter enough to let me know she’s the one who has it.
Despite the late hour, I bang on her door.
“Open up, Sawyer,” I boom through the door.
I hear movement inside before she opens it. I can tell by the look on her face she’s been expecting me to show up at her door.
“She’s not here,” Sawyer says, blocking the door.
“Then open the door and let me see. I don’t want to have this conversation in the hallway regardless,” I snap back at her.
She opens the door wide and steps aside to let me in. I know then that Sloane is really gone.
Kendall sits on the bed glaring at me. That surprises me, because I thought she was at least on our side.
“Are you happy? You finally got your way. You drove her away from me,” I accuse her.
Sawyer looks tired, and not at all interested in fighting with me. That’s another thing I didn’t expect.
“Look, Knox—” she shoves her hair out of her face “—I don’t know what happened last night, but I found a devastated woman curled into a ball on the floor of your hotel room this morning.
The kind of desperation she wore on her face scared me.
I did what I had to do to make sure I didn’t go back to check on a dead Sloane. ”
I flinch at her description. Last night was bad, but not enough to drive her to hurt herself. Admittedly I’ve been a selfish prick when it comes to her, but I’ve done what I could to make her life easier. At least I thought I had. Maybe I haven’t been paying very good attention to her.
“Do you know where she went?” I ask in a much calmer voice.
“Home,” is all Sawyer says.
For a second I feel better, then I remember she said she’d be moved out before I got back to Portland.
“My home,” Kendall speaks up. “She and Xander are moving in with me.”
Hearing his name lances more pain through my heart. I haven’t gotten to spend as much time with him as I have her, but I like the little dude. I thought the three of us were building a family together, something I’ve longed for forever.
Kendall stands up. “I don’t want to see you around my place. If she wants to talk to you, she’ll reach out. Give her space. She didn’t tell us what happened, because she’s still protecting you, but it must have been bad considering how we found her. Leave her be.”
She shakes her head. “I know Sawyer was on your ass about your relationship, but I was rooting for you. I guess Sawyer was right.”
I turn around and walk out the door. I’m not sure where I’m going, but I don’t head back to my room. If I do I know I’ll hit that bottle of pills, and it won’t be good.
Instead I head out into the night. Not my brightest idea, because April in Toronto is fucking cold.
Way too cold to be wandering around in a hoodie without a shirt underneath, a thin pair of gym shorts, and slides without socks.
The cold bites my skin, but I barely notice.
Everything about me feels numb. Not the kind of numb I was searching for last night.
This kind goes soul deep, and I don’t think I can chase it away with the help of the doctor.
I’m not sure how long I walk, but I eventually find myself on the pedestrian bridge over the river.
I lean my arms on the rails, and look out at the city.
Everything catches up to me, my injury, the game today, then finding Sloane gone, and I’m beyond tired.
I pat the pocket of my hoodie, because I am definitely not going to get her back with more self-destructive behavior, but realize I left my phone back at the hotel.
I laugh, and even to my ears it sounds hysterical.
Worse, I wandered around aimlessly, and I don’t remember how to get back to the hotel.
If I could wave down a cab, I also don’t have my wallet.
Not that it would help since I only remember it’s the Regency something, and I’m not even sure I’m right about that or if that was the hotel in Vancouver. They all blend together after a while.
I lean my head against my hands and close my eyes.
Here, all alone, I can imagine that Sloane is still back at the hotel waiting for me.
I don’t have to face a night sleeping by myself in that big bed.
I don’t have to face a life by myself because I’m too stupid to see what was in front of me before it was too late.
She loved me, and I threw it in her face by telling her that a game was more important to me. She thinks I don’t love her back. I did tell her I wouldn’t, she was right about that, but that was before I got to know her.
It isn’t that I don’t love hockey. It’s been good to me. At times it’s been the only thing I’ve had in my life, but that time is coming to an end. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to hold on, the end is still coming.
That isn’t going to change, and now I have nothing to look forward to when it does. There’s no light at the end of this tunnel anymore.
If she felt even a fraction of this heaviness when Sawyer and Kendall found her, I can understand why they were worried. It isn’t like I’m tempted to throw myself off this bridge, but the lack of hope I feel is pretty debilitating nonetheless.
Something warm wraps around my shoulders. “You’re a hard man to find,” I hear West say behind me.
“She’s gone,” I say into my arms.
He slowly rubs my back. “I know, man. You aren’t really surprised, are you?”
I roll my head back and forth, wordlessly telling him that I’m not.
“She loves you,” he says.
“I know,” I mumble.
“Well then, how hard are you willing to fight to get her back?” he asks.
This makes me pick up my head. “You think I can?”
He shrugs, which doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence. “Only one way to find out. But this isn’t going to be easy, because this fight is going to be against yourself.”
I groan, knowing he’s right. It’s time to make some decisions I’ve been putting off for way too long.