Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Finn
“What did you do?” Dallas asks, his voice low.
I don’t take my eyes off of her, but I manage a quiet, “I have no idea.”
Should I take cover?
She walks over and stops right in front of us. “Hey, Dallas.” She gives him a quick nod.
“Hey, Raya. How are you feeling?” Dallas asks.
She makes a point of looking at me when she says, “I’m fine, actually.”
I slowly stop pedaling. I’m in trouble but I have no idea why.
“Hey, Finn.”
“Hey, Raya.” My tone is cautious, like I’m about to poke a crocodile.
“Can I talk to you?” Her expression is clear—she’s ticked.
I hold my hands up. “I feel like you’re mad at me.”
“Nope,” she says, coolly, but there’s something behind her eyes that I don’t trust. “Just a little chat. Promise it won’t take long.”
Crap. She’s definitely mad at me.
By now, most of the guys are watching this. From behind me, someone says, “Don’t go, man, she’s gonna kill you!”
I frown at Raya.
She narrows her eyes.
I lean toward her, keeping the bike between us for protection. “What did I do?”
She scoffs. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.” Her tone cuts.
“I have no idea,” I say. “Clue me in?”
“Hallway,” she says firmly. “Now.” She turns on her heel and marches out of the gym to a chorus of “Oohhhs” from the guys.
“Dang, Brookie, you’re in trouble!” Jericho says as I get off the bike.
I grab a towel and look at Dallas. “I should be terrified, right?”
“Hope you have your affairs in order.” His grin makes light of it, but there’s a pit in my stomach.
“Hey, maybe now’s a good time to tell her you’re in love with her,” Jericho calls out.
I throw the towel at him, grateful Raya’s already in the hallway and doesn’t hear this.
“Hey, get Coach—tell him we’re gonna need a new lineman,” Krush calls out from the bench. “Brookie’s going on the Injured Reserve.”
I’m pretty sure he’s right.
I walk into the hallway and find Raya waiting, arms folded, tapping her fingers like she’s had too much caffeine. And even though she’s never not looked beautiful, she doesn’t look like herself right now. She’s pale, and I could pack for the weekend in the bags under her eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be home?”
She lets out a sardonic laugh. “I. Cannot. Believe you.”
Her eyes drift past me, back into the gym, which is basically a big room with four walls of windows. I follow her gaze and see a whole lot of hockey players watching us. She grabs my arm and pulls me around the corner.
“Look, Hart, if you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask,” I say. “There’s no need for violence.”
She glares at me, and I instantly regret trying to lighten the mood. Apparently, now is not the time for jokes.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “Sorry. Really, I didn’t mean—You’re clearly upset about something.”
“Yeah, and I have every right to be.” She looks trapped, like she’s not sure where to go.
I rest a hand on her arm. “Tell me what I did. Whatever it is, I’ll apolog—”
“Who did you talk to about what the doctor said?” she cuts in, moving out of my grasp.
“What? When?”
“When you were eavesdropping on a private medical conversation.”
I press my teeth together. “I didn’t mean to do that.
I was just in the wrong place at the right time, I guess.
I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t on purpose.
I was getting drinks for your family, and I heard him say your name.
I—I don’t know, I listened.” I replay the moment in my mind.
It was a shady thing to do. “I didn’t mean to, Hart, I swear. I was just . . . really worried.”
She waves me off like my apology isn’t important. “Who did you tell?”
I’m confused. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Then why did Brian just put me on a four-week leave?” As she says this, her voice breaks slightly, and I can see the tired, raw emotion in her whole face—her whole body.
“He did?”
“Yes!” She raises her voice. “Because of you!”
“Raya, I didn’t say anything. I don’t know anything about that,” I say honestly.
She stops for a minute. “Then why did he do it? You were the only one who heard what the doctor said.” It’s an accusation, not a question.
“Well, I’m not the only one who thinks you should take some time off after what happened.” I cross my arms. “If you remember, half the building watched them take you away in an ambulance.”
She seems to accept that as a fair point, but she’s still bothered. “But you were the only one who knew!”
I soften my tone. “I didn’t say anything to anyone.”
I can see she’s fighting back tears. She turns away from me, arms crossed, but one hand rubbing her forehead.
“What am I going to do?” Her tone sounds defeated. Desperate. Lonely.
I shift my weight. I want to pull her close, tell her everything’s going to be okay, prove to her that she’s not alone. I want to be the guy she can count on, but how do I do that when she’s intent on not letting me?
She turns back to me. “Four weeks? What the heck am I supposed to do with four weeks off?”
I lean against the wall. “Rest.”
“Ha. Okay. Like that’s easy to do. Just ‘rest,’” she says, as if it’s a made-up word.
“I’m guessing work will still be there when you get back,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. She’s in a defensive stance, worked up, but something is off. The image of her terrified face flashes through my mind. She needs to lie down.
The elevator down the hall opens, and Dr. Marshall walks out. When he sees us, he turns in our direction.
“Miss Hart!” he says. “Good to see you upright.”
Raya is still flustered, but she forces a smile. “Yes! Thank you for your help yesterday. I’m feeling much better.”
If I had to guess, that’s a half-truth. She’s better than she was, but she’s still not one-hundred percent. If she’d just slow down for five minutes, she’d realize it too.
“Slow” is not in Raya’s DNA.
“I’m actually surprised to see you here,” Dr. Marshall says. “You need to be home, resting.”
“Oh, no,” she says. “I’m doing so much better. And I’ve got a few projects that are time-sensitive.”
Doc’s bushy eyebrows pull together. “Oh. Has something changed? I thought you were on leave.”
“I’m actually trying to sort that out now,” she says, relaxing her arms. “I think there’s been a mistake. Maybe you could help me?”
“Help you how?”
“I just need someone to pass the message up the chain that I’m good to go back to work.”
Doc looks confused. His eyes dart briefly to me, then he smiles warmly at Raya. “Did you get the email about your time off?”
“Not yet,” she says. “I spoke with Brian, and I came straight down here to, uh—” She looks at me, and I barely resist finishing her sentence with rip this innocent man a new one, even though he did nothing wrong.
“The email came from me, Miss Hart,” Doc says. “I’m the one who put you on leave.”
She doesn’t seem to understand for a few seconds. “I’m sorry. You—?”
“I talked to Dr. Gilroy yesterday,” he says. “I called to get an update, check up on you, make sure everything was okay. Since I was with you when the paramedics got here, they looped me in. We discussed your condition, and he told me his recommendations.”
I see comprehension spread over Raya’s face like honey dripping down the outside of a jar. She turns her head slightly, her eyes darting to me and then back to Dr. Marshall.
“If you want to come into my office, we can discuss this in private.” He motions down the hall toward his office, presumably because he’s not accustomed to discussing medical issues in the hallway.
She ignores that, and even though I’m feeling slightly vindicated, I don’t relish it. Raya is spinning out.
“Dr. Marshall,” she says after a pause. “I . . . I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with that. I have to work.” The desperation seeps through her words.
“Miss Hart.” Doc puts a hand on her shoulder, and I hope the tension in her starts to ease.
“Your body is trying to get your attention. From what I understand, you came from a high-stress environment to this job, which can also be pretty high stress. And you’re a great employee.
The best, according to Brian. But he also said you look for ways to take on work that’s not yours, that you go above and beyond what is required, and that you will not accept anything but perfection. ”
I bite my tongue. He’s just completely read her mail.
“You’re running yourself ragged. It’s unhealthy. If you don’t slow down, your body is going to make you slow down.”
Her gaze falls to the floor. I really hope these words are sinking in and not sliding off.
“Think of this like a warning shot,” he says.
“Plus, you’ve earned some time off, I think.” He squeezes her arm. “And just in time for the holidays. It’s great timing.”
Even though she’s still looking at the floor, I can see that she doesn’t agree.
“After a few weeks, come back in, and we’ll do a quick assessment to make sure you’re good to get back at it, okay?” Dr. Marshall says. “I promise the place won’t burn down without you.”
“Thanks, Dr. Marshall,” Raya says quietly. “Honestly. Thank you. Have a good Thanksgiving.”
“You too, Miss Hart.” He looks at me. “Have a great game tonight, Finn.”
Once he’s gone, I look at Raya. She’s completely deflated, her bravado evaporated into the ether. She looks up at me, and there’s just a little bit of fight left in there.
“Fine. It wasn’t you,” she says.
I can’t help myself. “I tried to tell you . . .”
She scoffs, rolls her eyes, and storms off down the hall.
And I watch until she disappears around the corner, wondering how to help someone who doesn’t think they need it.