SIXTEEN
HAYDEN
BOSTON
DECEMBER
“We’ll pay out the remaining three million—”
“Six million.”
“We can’t do—”
“Six million.”
“...four million.”
“Seven million.”
“Oh, come on!”
Ruby holds up her fingers, counting. “Jaw. Two teeth. Ribs. Lung. Two fingers.”
“...five million.”
“Done.” I cut into the negotiations between a very green-looking Doug and a smug-but-trying-to-hide-it Ruby. “And you’ll pay all of Emerald’s hospital bills while she recovers.”
Doug opens his mouth, probably to protest, until he gets a good look at my face.
He snaps his mouth shut and nods. “Of course, Hayden.”
Two more hours crawl by while Doug calls legal, the team publicist, and an assistant to bring up the last of my things from the locker room. The atmosphere in the room shifts as we wait, our anticipation and their unease creating a thick tension.
Legal made it simple for Doug. A multimillion-dollar buyout looked better than a potential tens-of-million-dollar payout from a civil suit. Fighting a player’s wife after she’d been assaulted on their grounds was not a battle they were going to win.
“Simple math, gentlemen.” Ruby’s tone turns saccharine sweet after Doug hangs up.
I should feel some satisfaction.
I don’t.
The hospital photo is burned into my brain, and the violation feels deliberate.
Emerald under her rainbow blanket, injured and vulnerable, exposed to the world again.
Ruby is sure that we can get it taken down, but it’s already out there.
Permanently. I don’t even want to check social media to see what people are saying.
I’m too keyed up and angry, and I don’t trust what I might do if I read the wrong thing.
“Boston Bullies organization charitably pays for Emerald Sawyer’s hospital bills through her recovery.” Ruby grins, her voice sing-song as she addresses Doug like he’s a child. “Think of the good press—especially if they think it was your big brain idea.”
Doug forces a smile that looks physically painful. “We’d be happy to cover those expenses. You know we take care of our own.”
It might have been more believable without the tears in his eyes.
Half an hour later, the attorney arrives with paperwork, and the publicist drafts our press releases. Ruby goes through every page with a sharp eye before nodding at me to sign. The rush of relief is almost euphoric.
Doug takes the pen and signs next.
“Dad’s gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he mutters .
There are some stipulations.
I’m barred from signing with another team for at least a year, which was fine because hockey was the last fucking thing on my mind. If I’m done for good, then so be it.
There’s an NDA that keeps us from running to the press to smear the Bullies organization. That’s fine. It’s just more energy given to this city that it doesn’t deserve .
Grabbing my bag, I sling it over my shoulder, relieved to have my wallet and keys again. The goodbye isn’t long. Coach has already left, giving me a stiff nod before he walked out the door. Doug says he’ll have a press conference tonight with the media.
I don’t care. I got what I needed. The money will be deposited into our account in forty-eight hours, and Doug will call the hospital to set up payment for Emerald’s bills.
But even with getting what I want, I’m not satisfied.
The man who nearly killed my wife is still out there.
Rick’s involvement runs deeper than I knew.
And someone violated Emerald where she was supposed to be safe and protected.
As Ruby and I step into the elevator, I pull out my phone and call Detective Anthony about the tabloid.
“Hey, Hayden,” she sounds like she expected me. “I saw the photo. That tabloid is a fucking thorn in my side. I already spoke to the officers outside Emerald’s room—only family and hospital staff have gone in and out. That narrows things down.”
“What can we do?”
“A lot, actually. HIPAA is heavily protected. It should be relatively easy to find who did this.”
“And the man?”
“That’s why I’m glad you called. Since Ramirez and I are heading over to the hospital to speak with their administration and security.
..” Detective Anthony drops her voice. “I know you said to give it a few days, but since we’re going to be there, would Emerald be up for speaking with me briefly?
Only if she feels able to. Sometimes, victims remember small details after the initial shock wears off. ”
My initial reaction is savage, to snarl no , leave her alone , she’s hurt enough, but I know this is necessary. I know that in order to find this man, they need to speak to Emerald.
“She can’t talk,” I admit, my voice breaking. “He broke her jaw.”
“I’m so sorry,” Detective Anthony’s voice softens. “Any other way she can communicate?”
“We’ve been using a whiteboard,” I scrub my hand over my face, pinching the bridge of my nose against the migraine forming. “But I don’t know if she remembers much.”
At first, I’d been grateful for that. Grateful that maybe her mind had spared her the worst of it. Now, watching her restless sleep and the way she flinches around men, I wonder if her mind is protecting itself by blocking it all out.
“We’d just like to know if she remembers well... anything. Even just smells or a description of his voice can help.”
After a few long moments, I sigh. “I will ask her. Just you. Emerald’s… nervous around men right now.”
“Okay,” she says, sounding eager and a little relieved. “Just me. We’ll be at the hospital in half an hour. Just let me know, Hayden.”
When we hang up, the elevator doors open into the garage.
“You did great in there, Hayden,” Ruby says as we walk to my car.
Her words should be comforting, should make me feel good. They don’t .
“Every accusation I threw at them,” I say as I unlock the car, “was an accusation against myself too. I failed her. Worse than they did.”
“You did. You fucking failed my sister, Hayden,” Ruby says, sliding into the passenger side. “And you should feel bad about that.”
Oddly, Ruby’s harshness feels better than comfort. I don’t want soothing. I want the truth. We sit in silence for a while, heading back to the hospital, until Ruby huffs.
“I failed the bar twice.”
My head snaps over to her in shock before I pull my gaze back to the road. I didn’t even know she failed it once. I know it was a hard test; I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to do it, but Ruby is deadly smart.
“I didn’t know that.”
“No one knows that but Emerald,” she shrugs. “And now you.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Because I felt pathetic,” Ruby scoffs, “I called Em after I failed it the second time. I was full spiraling. Oh, poor me, poor me, I failed the lawyer test, I suck, I’m a failure, I’m a joke, I should just quit.”
Since meeting Ruby, I’ve known her to be so self-assured and impossible to rattle, but witnessing the vulnerability beneath that lacquer feels strange. When I stop at a red light, I turn to look at her.
“You know what Em said?” she laughs, a fond smile on her face. “The thing about failure is that it gives you a choice: wallow and be a fucking baby or get your ass up and make things right.”
I smile, warmth for Emerald in my chest. “She said it just like that? ”
“No.” Ruby snorts. “She said it in that very Emerald way where it somehow feels like a hug and makes you believe in sunshine and rainbows and miracles again. But that was the message.”
The light turns green, and I drive on toward the hospital, warmth spreading from my chest.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “That’s my Emerald.”
Ruby looks out the window at the snow finally letting up. “And she was right. Wallowing did nothing for me. Studying harder did. Sometimes it really is that simple. We just get in our own way.”
I grip the wheel tighter. Wallowing won’t help, but owning my mistakes—and never repeating them—just might.
“What do we do about the picture, Ruby?” I ask, feeling lost once more. “This is going to...”
“Objectively? It makes the tabloid look disgusting. I think the general public will handle a good chunk of that for us.”
In the hospital garage, after we park, Ruby pulls out her phone and shows me the responses piling up under the tabloid’s post.
Oh, somebody’s ass is getting fired at that hospital.
Poor Emerald!
Shame on whoever took this, and shame on you for posting it!
It’s nice to see the support. The tides are turning and favoring Emerald, but it still just feels almost too late. Everyone’s eyes crawl over me on the way up to Emerald’s room. I hate it. I hate that Emerald isn’t even safe in this fucking hospital.
“I’m getting her out of here.”
I don’t say it just to Ruby, but to the universe.
A promise. Emerald cannot heal here.
“As soon as I can. ”
I start thinking about logistics.
Right now, I’m jobless, quitting the only career I ever considered, but the buyout money is coming in. I’ll call my financial advisor to redirect funds and put the apartment up for sale—that’ll bring in a nice chunk of change.
I don’t feel a single ounce of regret for finally cutting ties with Boston, with hockey itself.
I feel free and relieved.
And ready to burn the rest of this city to the ground if it comes near my wife again.
...
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, my heart dropping to the ground when I step into Emerald’s room.
Ruby’s gone down to the cafeteria to grab coffee.
Tim texted that he brought Linda to the hotel so she could get some sleep in an actual bed.
I’m sure Emerald probably ordered her Mom to go get some sleep, as she did me.
I had been hoping that Emerald was peacefully resting, but instead, I find her awake.
And staring at her phone.
Dread floods my body.
“Baby?” I whisper, keeping my voice soft. She can’t turn her head that well, so I walk into her line of vision. She doesn’t look up from the phone, and I just... I just know what she’s looking at.
“I’m so sorry.”
I ease into the chair next to the bed. Emerald’s lip wobbles, and it’s like a knife to the chest. She breathes harshly through her nose. Her eyes a combination of anger and hurt.