Chapter 31
The incessant beeping of hospital machines is like flies circling my brain, and it’s what pulls me from a deep, dark sleep. My everything hurts. When I attempt to move, it feels like my arms and legs are anchored at the bottom of the ocean. There is a full-body pain that is like a dull, persistent ache. It’s impossible to ignore, but it’s nothing compared to the fracturing jolts of pain that go from my hip to my toes but mostly concentrated at my knee. I squint against the harsh morning light like I have the world's worst hangover, trying to orient myself.
“Morning, beautiful,” a deep, manly voice says from beside me.
I blink groggily, my head still swimming from whatever drugs they gave me last night, the panic flaring in my chest for a second. What the fuck. Who the—That’s not Rachel’s voice. Who is that?
My vision clears, and there’s Ford Jensen, our team captain, flipping through a magazine like he’s waiting to spill the tea with his besties. He’s got a stupid, smug grin on his face like he knows exactly what he’s doing. The guy looks way too put together and comfortable for someone posted up in a hospital chair this early in the morning.
I blink again, rubbing my eyes. “What are you doing here?” My voice sounds rough, even to my own ears.
Ford glances up from his Better Homes and Gardens , clearly enjoying himself. “Thought I’d keep your sorry ass company while you sit around here doing nothing.”
“Seriously?” I croak, still not fully functioning. “Ford, what the hell are you doing here?”
Ford flips a page of his magazine, completely unbothered. “Reading about pollinators. Apparently, I need more in my garden.”
“You don’t have a garden.” I scoff at him while giving him a side-eye. “Do you even know what a pollinator is?”
He finally glances up, a smirk tugging at his lips. “For your information, I learned recently.”
I roll my eyes. “Right. Recently, you mean this morning? So you are taking up gardening then.”
He shrugs, unbothered. “It’s unimportant. What is important is that we each do our part for the pollination of the world.”
“Holy shit, you give me a headache,” I say, leaning my head back against my pillow and closing my eyes again. Without opening, I continue, “I don’t want to hear you say another word about pollination.”
Ford smiles at me, crossing one arm over the other, keeping the magazine in full view. “Oh, someone is very cranky this morning,” he says with a pointed stare. If he wasn’t giving me such an incredulous look, I would’ve thought he was posing for the cover of the next issue of his magazine.
I meet his stare head-on with a deadpan look and just grumble.
Ford finally sets the magazine down, leaning back in his chair. “All jokes aside, man, how are you feeling?”
I pause for a second, considering his question. “Like I got hit by a train,” I admit. “My entire body hurts like hell.”
Ford nods, his smile gone, now replaced with a look of genuine concern. “Yeah, well, you went down hard, brother. We are all just glad to see you awake.”
I sigh, taking in how this move feels for the team, to everyone else looking in. I probably gave them a hell of a scare by landing myself in the hospital. “Thanks, man.”
Ford grins again, his usual goofy, cocky confidence. “Besides, why would you think that we were going to just leave you here to stew in your own thoughts? Over here, posted up, pretending to be tough. Consider me your entertainment shadow.”
I grunt, trying to shift slightly in the bed, but the small movement sends a very large, dagger-like pain through my leg. “Thanks, I guess. You didn’t have to—”
“Yeah, yeah. Captain’s duty,” Ford interrupts with a wink. “Besides, with our schedule and another game here, I’ve got some time to kill. Might as well pass it with you, my brother.”
I huff out a laugh, but the sound dies quickly as the pain in my knee, or leg rears its ugly head. Maybe it’s both the knee and leg, or perhaps the pain just exists in my entire lower body; I really have no idea what to expect but the one thing I do know, the little shifts or different reactions remind me just how fucked things are right now. Ford’s expression softens a little, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You good, you need some more meds?”
Before I can answer, my phone starts ringing on the table in front of me. I glance over before picking it up.
“Hey, mom,” I say. She hits me a mile a minute with everything that she has to say. If she wasn’t so happy that I am awake and probably going to be fine, she would be giving me a lecture. “Mom, calm down. Everything hurts like hell right now but I'll be fine. I promise. No need to worry about me.”
We talk for a little while longer, while Ford picks back up his magazine, ignoring us. It's nice to chat with her without worrying about rushing to the next thing. It feels like it's been a really long time since I've just chatted with her. There is so much that I want to talk to her about now but this definitely isn’t the time, or place. The phone starts to beep with another call. Rachel, I already know it.
“Look mom, I’m getting another call. I’ll have to call you later. Love you. Bye,” I say, hanging up on her and quickly answering Rachel’s call.
I pick it up, “Hey,” I say, my voice much more worn in than earlier but still rough around the edges.
“Hey,” Rachel’s voice is soft, but there’s a hesitation to it. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better,” I admit, glancing at Ford, who’s very obviously pretending to flip the pages, acting like he’s not eavesdropping. “How’s Lily?”
“She’s good. Heidi’s going to come watch her for a while. Once she gets here, I’ll head back over to the hospital. I don’t want Lily hanging out there all day.”
“That’s smart,” I agree, though the disappointment of Rachel not being here yet and not seeing Lily nags at me. “I’ll be here.”
There’s a pause on the other end, and I can almost feel Rachel worrying through the phone. “Keep resting, okay? See you soon.”
“Yeah, I will. See you in a bit.”
I hang up and set the phone down on the bed beside me. I look up to find Ford staring at me intently, his bushy eyebrows practically in his hairline. “Who was that?”
“A friend of mine,” I say tersely, not really sure what to say about Rachel.
“Ah, a friend. Yes, I’ve heard of those.” He grins. “You’re so annoying, you know that, right?”
“Fuck off. If you think I’m annoying, look in the mirror, bro.” I end my statement with the most winning of smiles, at least that I could muster right now.
“You’re literally giving me more gray hair as I sit here,” he says with a dramatic hair toss. “Just from your stress.”
I roll my eyes, “Those grays were there long before yesterday.”
He looks offended but doesn't get a chance to respond. The door creaks open and we both look up to watch Elliot walk in. He looks different. He’s lacking the usual spark that makes Elliot, well, Elliot. Instead, it's been replaced by an uncomfortable, withdrawn energy. Way less confident than usual, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders hunched slightly. He avoids eye contact at first, hesitating barely inside the doorway.
Ford’s face lights up immediately, "Elliot, brother! I was hoping to see you today." He jumps up, ready to embrace his former teammate. But Elliot doesn’t budge. His eyes stay glued to the floor for a second before he finally looks up at us.
Ford’s smile falters, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "What’s going on, bro? You good?"
Elliot clears his throat stiffly, and his voice comes out low and awkward. "It’s come to my attention that I’m a giant douchecanoe who turned something amazing into a mess and made it all about myself." He glances at me, swallowing hard before continuing. "And for that...I’m really sorry."
Ford’s confused face bounces between us, sensing the tension. "What the hell is going on?"
I sigh, craning my neck up to look at him. “You figured that out, huh?” I mutter, my voice a bit sharper than intended.
Ford, still confused, throws his hands up. "Am I missing something here?”
Elliot doesn’t crack a smile, and Ford frowns, his eyebrows in a deep V as he surveys us. "Okay, seriously, what the hell is going on?"
I glance at Ford, then back at Elliot. "We’ve got some shit to work out," I say, keeping it simple.
Guilt flashes in Elliot’s eyes, "Let me make it right first," he says quietly, running a hand through his hair. “I took my hurt over not knowing the truth out on you, and that was wrong. I just assumed the worst and—shit, man, that’s not how I see you at all.”
Ford growls a little under his breath, his confusion growing. “Hold up. What the fuck is this about?”
With a pointed look at Elliot, I nod, giving him the go-ahead. “Tell him."
Elliot sighs, running his hand down his face this time. "Alright…then. I found out about Oren’s daughter. Who just so happens to be the same daughter of one of my friends." He pauses, glancing at Ford, who’s looking equal parts shocked and confused now. "And I...I didn’t react well."
Ford’s eyes widen as Elliot’s words register, and his eyebrows shoot straight back up to his graying hairline again. "Wait...WHAT?! You have a kid?" His voice is laced with disbelief as he turns to me.
I nod, feeling a swirl of emotions—pride, guilt, mostly relief. "Yeah. Lily."
Ford drops back down into his chair, leaning back, very pensive, staring at me like I’ve just told him the earth’s flat. "Jesus, Oren. And you didn’t think to mention this sooner?” Hurt lingers in his words, sounding genuinely thrown by the news.
I rub the back of my neck, feeling his disappointment wash over me. "It’s been very…complicated," I say, my voice quieter. "But yeah, I wish I had."
Elliot jumps back in, determined to make himself suffer for his actions. More intensely than I’d even planned on torturing him. His expression is still full of worry. "The thing is, I assumed the worst. I thought Oren didn’t want anything to do with Lily or Rachel. I thought he was...being an asshole about it."
Ford shoots Elliot a sharp look, his jaw tightening. "What, why?"
Elliot winces, shaking his head slightly. "I jumped to the wrong conclusions, and I lost it. I let my shit reaction cloud my judgment. But in reality Oren had only ever done what Rachel asked him to do, for herself and Lily. Oren respected that.”
Ford's face softens a little, glancing back at me. "So, you weren’t hiding from it?"
I shake my head, feeling overly emotional about the conversation. "No, man. I didn’t even know about Lily for the first four months. And once I knew about Lily, it wasn’t my choice to keep it quiet. I had to respect Rachel’s wishes."
Ford leans forward, crossing his arms, and I can see the shift in his expression, less hurt, more understanding. "Damn, I didn’t see that coming." He glances between me and Elliot, then cracks a small grin. "So, Oren has a kid. Never thought I’d hear those words."
I can’t help but laugh softly, the tension breaking a little. "Yeah, neither did I."
“So, Rachel? As in Rachel Reese? She is your special friend?” Ford asks with an eyebrow waggle.
I shake my head at him, scowling at his implication, “Yes, that Rachel and we are friends, nothing special about it beyond co-parenting.”
Ford slaps his knees, the grin widening. "Well, congrats, man. That’s wild. Hey, if you ever need any parenting advice, definitely don’t ask me. Not your guy. I’m moral support only."
I chuckle, the pressure lifting off my chest a bit. "I’ll take what I can get."
Before we can change the subject, there’s a stern knock on the door before it opens. A petite, redheaded woman walks in accompanied by the doctor that I saw first thing this morning. Based on the pencil skirt, lab coat, and calm, no-nonsense presence, even I could deduce that she was a doctor. It’s Elliot that has me questioning why she is here. The minute they got here, he was no longer withdrawn, pacing around the room, but, instead, buzzing around, welcoming them to my hospital room.
“I made a few calls and pulled a lot of strings,” he announces. Apparently, the objectively pretty woman is Elliot’s doing. “Oren, meet Dr. Maria Lyons, one of the amazing physicians for the Atlanta Vipers. She is a real ball-buster from the word on the street, in the best way.” He holds up his hands as she shoots him a very intimidating look. “She just so happens to be a friend of Ziggy’s, and has agreed to take a look at your file to help you figure out the next steps. Since the Red Wolves team can’t be here, I wanted to help make sure you got the best possible care.”
The petite doctor steps closer, sidling up next to my bed, her bright red hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, a fancy looking tablet in hand, likely holding all of my medical history. She looks every bit the composed professional Elliot says, and that is probably what I need. Before she even says a word, Ford’s looking at her with the most mesmerized expression, like he’d just been struck by lightning.
“Hello gentlemen, I’m Dr. Lyons,” she says, her voice friendly but restrained. She gives me a controlled smile and shakes my hand quickly. Then moves on to greet Elliot before glancing at Ford curiously, probably wondering why the hell he is staring at her so intensely. She reaches out with her hand to shake his hand, but nothing happens.
Ford looks like he’s forgotten all motor functions. “Dr. Maria Lyons,” he mutters, his voice unusually soft for someone of his stature. Especially someone who’s usually the loudest guy in the room.
I start to snicker, shaking my head. "Ford, you going to shake her hand, dude?"
Ford, realizing he looks like an idiot, attempts to recover from his deer-in-the-headlights moment. He straightens in his chair, clasps his hand around hers, shaking it overzealously, and turns the charm dial all the way up to ten. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Lyons,” he says, grinning like he’s found his missing half. “Maria, was it?”
Dr. Maria raises an eyebrow, clearly avoiding whatever Ford’s putting down, and stays professional. “Nice to meet you, too.”
Ford doesn’t take his eyes off her, nodding enthusiastically back at her. I almost feel sorry for him, watching him fall so hard and so fast, but then again, the look on his face is kind of hilarious. I exchange a quick look with Elliot, who’s grinning from behind Dr. Lyons like he’s got a front row seat to witness Ford’s fall from grace. And there is no question that is quite a fall. Ford Jensen, our stoic team captain, looks completely undone by a single interaction with a woman who’s said less than ten words to him.
Dr. Maria remains focused on her job, "So, Oren," she begins, "I’ve gone over your chart with your current doctor. The hospital received your medical history from the team this morning, and I believe we have a couple of things to discuss if you are interested.”
Ford, still staring at her, mouth gaping open, finally manages to tear his gaze away. But only long enough to lean toward me and whisper, “Samuels, you lucky bastard. Listen to whatever this magnificent woman has to say. She’s incredible.” His voice is full of admiration, and I can’t help but laugh under my breath.
“Focus, Ford,” I whisper back, grinning. “What the hell do you know?”
Dr. Lyons moves toward the foot of my hospital bed with her attention fully on the tablet, her focused expression coming back to me. “Okay, Oren. Would you like some privacy to discuss your options?”
My leg throbs, only slightly diminishing the pain that’s been developing in my head. Ford stands up and starts to follow Elliot toward the door, but I stop them and wave them back in my direction. The two of them move to one side of my bed, their faces super serious. They’re not just my teammates—they’re part of my support system, my family. I glance between them, then back at Dr. Maria.
“I want them to stay,” I say quietly. “They’re my brothers. They should hear this, too.”
Dr. Lyons nods, not missing a beat, and continues speaking. "Alright, Oren, we’ve got two major issues here. You have a torn ACL, which I believe will require surgery for your best chance at full recovery. With the extent of the damage, your recovery is going to take time. The knee injury, in addition to the back-to-back concussions, is very concerning."
I grit my teeth, annoyed that we are even having this conversation. Being a hockey player is learning to play through pain but nothing she is saying is anything that the league will look the other direction on. Dr. Lyons looks back down to her tablet, her eyes scanning over the notes.
"We found a record of a minor concussion indicated by the Arizona team doctor. I see you were given some time off after this, did you get the concussion checked out during that time off?" she asks, her voice cool but sharp.
I don’t make eye contact with her after her question. I don’t look at anyone, instead I focus on my hands.
"You didn’t tell anyone, did you?" She asks, her words piercing. “I take that to mean it was never addressed again.”
I finally look up and shift uncomfortably under her gaze, catching the disapproving looks Ford and Elliot are giving me. Ford crosses his arms, his expression like a disappointed older brother. Elliot just shakes his head.
“You fucking idiot,” Ford mutters.