TWENTY-SIX #2
“Back the fuck up!” I snarl, my hand pressing Emerald’s head to my chest.
“Emerald!”
“Haymaker!”
“Keep moving,” Ramirez barks in front of us, pushing a journalist back when they step in the path. “Back up!”
Ten feet away.
“Haymaker, do you have anything to say about your alleged mistress being under investigation?”
Seven feet away.
“There is no mistress. My body and heart belong to my wife,” I snarl at the reporter, who then shoves their phone into Emerald’s face, trying to record her. “Get that fucking phone out of her face, now!”
“Emerald, what do you have to say about your husband’s alleged mistress?”
Emerald tucks her face even more into me. Her feet stumble, and I say fuck it and just scoop her in my arms. She doesn’t protest, just buries her face in my neck, her body shaking as the relentless questions continue.
“Almost there, baby,” I murmur.
“Emerald, did Patrick Doyle stomp on your face? ”
Six feet.
“Emerald, will you be getting reconstructive surgery?”
Five feet.
“Has Hayden apologized for the video of him screaming at you?”
Four feet.
“Are you only staying with Hayden because you depend on him financially?”
Emerald’s arms tighten around my neck, and I snarl in the direction the question came from.
Making eye contact with the reporter who asked it, I recognize him. One of the LFB sports commentators, the same one from that night. He witnessed me berating my wife and knew just the question to hurt her.
His face pales when he sees the look on my face, and he’s so damn lucky my wife is in my arms, and I want to get her out of here.
Three feet.
“Do you blame Hayden for not protecting you?”
Two feet.
“Do you think Hayden still wants you—”
We’re in the backseat, and the door slams closed before they can finish that question.
Emerald’s still in my lap, shaking, puffs of breath against my neck. I murmur sweet nothings into her ear it’s okay, baby, and we’re safe, I’ve got you, and it’s over, they’re gone as Tim pulls away from the curb and merges into traffic.
Ramirez is tailing us, making sure we get home safe.
Linda turns around in her seat, gently humming to Emerald. After a few minutes, I feel the tension ease from Emerald’s body, and her breath becomes longer, more even. “That’s it, baby. Good girl, just breathe, I’m here, I’m here...”
It doesn’t take long for us to get to the rental, Tim pulling the car into the garage and firmly shutting it.
Without letting go of Emerald, I carry us out of the car, Linda running ahead to open doors and turn on the lights.
She opens the room she’s organized for Emerald and pulls back the covers so I can place Emerald in the bed.
As Linda bustles out of the room, gently, I kneel next to the bed. Emerald pulls the hood back, revealing her slightly sweaty, slightly pale, but still beautiful, face. “You okay?”
Emerald gives me a thumbs-up and a smile.
Chuckling, I gently pull the boots off her feet and pull the covers over her, and grab the small whiteboard Linda bought from the store the other day. Even after she gets the wiring out of her mouth, the doctor told us it will be difficult for her to speak for the next few weeks.
The thought of hearing Emerald’s voice again makes my heart thump violently.
Just hearing her sweet giggle, calling me honey or sweetheart. The memory of her calling me both of those names the last time she spoke to me and how I responded feels like a sharp pain in my head. Careful what you wish for.
Emerald gives me a sly smile as she shows me what she wrote on the board, making me laugh again, as she always can.
Thanks for the lift.
“My pleasure,” I say, lifting her hand to kiss the back. “How do you feel?”
She gives me a thumbs up before she pats her stomach. Hungry.
“Soup?”
“Ten steps ahead of you,” Linda says, carrying in a tray with a bowl of lobster bisque. “Daddy picked it up earlier. ”
Emerald’s smile widens, and I stand back from the bed so Linda can place the tray down.
Before I can go too far, Emerald reaches out to grab my hand, pulling me back to the bed. I freeze momentarily, meeting Linda’s happy gaze for a moment before I sit on the bed at her hip.
“I’m going to go start dinner. Let me know if you kids need anything,” Linda smiles, pressing a kiss to Emerald’s head before doing the same to mine, patting my shoulder before walking out of the room and shutting the door.
Emerald sips the bowl of soup slowly, some running over her lips, but I’m already there with a napkin, wiping her face. Then I take the small spoon and start feeding her. Emerald’s eyes are shimmering and bright as she parts her lips to sip at the spoon, keeping her eyes locked on mine.
It feels like a different kind of intimacy. Not unpleasant at all. I’ve had every sexual experience with Emerald, and somehow this feels deeper than any of it.
This isn’t a penance or a punishment, doing these acts for Emerald that she can do herself.
It’s just wanting to care for my wife in every way that I can.
Bit by bit, I feed Emerald the soup, and she gives me a smile in thanks.
She lifts her hand to cover her mouth, and she blinks as if she’s just realized something, and her eyes dim.
I take the tray and move it out of the way, moving to sit next to her on the bed and hand her the whiteboard. I’m not going to force her to tell me what’s going on, but I want her to trust me enough to tell me.
“What’s going on?” I ask, keeping my voice soft.
Emerald sighs and writes.
I don’t look like me anymore. My teeth—
She pauses on the last word, her hand shaking slightly .
“Will be fixed,” I murmur, Emerald, turning to meet my eyes. I take her left hand and press a kiss over the bare ring finger. “Your fingers healed. Your ribs healed. Your bruising faded. And you look just like my Emerald.”
Emerald’s face crumbles for one moment before she quickly scribbles. Her handwriting is uncharacteristically sloppy, and she doesn’t make eye contact when she shows me.
Are you still here because of guilt?
Goddamn that reporter.
“No,” I growl, gently tilting her chin to face me. It takes her a few moments before she looks me in the eye. And hers widen when she sees the look on my face. “I am here because I love you. I am here because you’re the only one for me. I am here because I can’t breathe properly without you.”
Emerald sighs.
Are you here to pay me back?
“No, Emerald,” I say, before spilling the truth.
“But that’s why I was working so much. Why I took every deal Rick threw at me.
Because I thought money could make your life easier.
Would... somehow make it right. It would prove something to my.
.. my father, as pathetic as that sounds,” the words spill out of me, and it feels good to finally let it go.
I just wanted you, Emerald writes, before frowning and shaking her head. She erases the last two letters of 'wanted'.
I just want you.
My breath catches in my throat, and Emerald erases that and writes a whole paragraph, this time her handwriting neater, purposeful.
I never needed to be paid back. I worked so much because I love you.
I married you because I love you. I don’t need money—I make my own, thank you very much—I just want you.
And I want respect. And I want you to defend me.
And put boundaries between hockey and our marriage.
You did before. Boston changed you. I don’t like who we became here.
I read the words over slowly, letting the weight behind each one hit me. She erases that and writes.
I don’t know where we go from here. I still love you. I think...
She pauses before continuing.
I still want to be with you. But what does our future look like? This recovery is going to be long. Are you ready for that?
I don’t even hesitate to answer.
“For too long, it’s been about me and hockey.
Uprooting your life. Supporting me after my dad disowned me,” I lean forward, meeting her gaze.
“But we’re going to take things one at a time.
We’re going to go home. We’re just going to focus on healing you.
And then... we can figure it out. We don’t have to think about it right now. ”
Emerald tilts her head, giving me the space to speak.
“We’re okay for now. The Bullies are covering the hospital bills. We have my release money, the settlement, and our savings. We have time. But, maybe I’ll... coach,” I snort, shaking my head and joking, “Pee-wees or something.”
Emerald’s mouth curves into a warm smile at that, like she likes the idea. She writes on the whiteboard, I think you would be really good at that.
I laugh, thinking she’s joking with me, until I see her face. “You’re serious.”
Emerald nods eagerly, and the confidence she has in me makes my whole body hum.
“Huh,” I grin. “Maybe it will help me remember why I liked hockey so much.”
Emerald nods again.
“But first, and foremost. We heal you, baby. Then we heal us... and then who knows?” I gently poke her side, “That’s kind of fun. We can start fresh.”
Emerald exhales sharply like she’s laughing, before her face sobers.
What about Rick? And the man?
“Aisha said no testifying. He pled guilty, and he’ll be sentenced next week.
Ramirez said he’s going away for at least a decade.
” Emerald looks relieved at that, and I hate that this next bit is going to wipe it from her face.
“Rick is... hiding somewhere. But they’re going to find him.
I know that Aisha and Ramirez are going to find him. ”
I wish we never met him.
Guilt floods my body, remembering Emerald’s skeptical face, remembering her raising concerns, and me signing my name on that dotted line anyway because four million dollars was louder than my wife.
“I should have listened to you.”
Emerald looks at me sternly, a look that clearly says, yes you should have.
“I’m sorry—”
Emerald huffs and cuts me off, her brow furrowed as she writes, in big bold letters.
DON’T JUST SAY SORRY. SHOW ME YOU ARE.
The words strike me hard, and I read them over twice, letting them absorb. Determination floods my entire body, my spine straightens, adrenaline thrums under my skin.
“Yes, baby.”
Emerald grins, and her blinking becomes a little heavier.
“Tired?” Emerald gives me a thumbs up. “Lay back.”
Easing off the bed, I help her adjust the pillows so that she can recline. Once she’s settled, I go to grab the tray and bring it down to the kitchen. But Emerald grabs my hand, stopping me once more. She tugs me close, and hope swells in my chest .
“You want me to stay?”
She pats the spot next to her, and the smile that spreads across my face threatens to crack it in half.
Taking my boots and hoodie off, I slide next to her in bed, and she scoots toward me, lying her head on my shoulder in that way that won’t disturb her jaw.
I wrap my arm around her, pulling her against me, and press my lips to her hairline.
“Rest, Em.”
She taps my chest, right over my heart. One, two, three.
“I love you too.”
It doesn’t take long for her to drift off, and I keep my eyes on her face as she does. I gently trace her features with my finger.
I loved her as a nineteen-year-old boy, I love her as a twenty-seven-year-old man, and I’ll love her for the rest of my life.
She’ll always be my Emerald.
The peace, the warm body, the sleepy noises, all of it gently eases me into a deep sleep.
“Hayden!”
My eyes snap open at that hissed whisper and the gentle shake of my shoulder. When my vision clears and adjusts to the dark room, I see Linda standing by the bedside. Emerald is still asleep on my chest, making a sleepy noise of protest and tightening the hand that’s gripping my shirt.
I press a kiss to her head, slowly untangle myself from her, and slide out of bed. The clock on the bedside table reads 9PM. Emerald and I have been napping for five hours.
“What’s going on?” I ask, following Linda out of the room, giving Emerald one last glance, and leaving the door cracked.
Linda’s face looks concerned, and my body tenses. “Aisha is here. ”
I blink, shocked by her words, before I follow low murmuring voices to the kitchen. Aisha sits at the kitchen island, smiling at Tim handing her a mug of coffee. That’s when I notice how worn down she looks with dark circles under her eyes. “Thank you, Tim.”
“Aisha, what’s going on?” I ask, and she takes a long sip of coffee before answering.
“We have a big problem.”
My heart stops. Linda and Tim share a look from where they stand in the doorway, Tim’s arms tightening around Linda.
“I can’t find anything on Fox, and I can’t find anyone willing to talk. I don’t know who the fuck he is, but he made some friends in very high places.”
Panic floods me, but I try to force it down. My eyes trail toward the direction of Emerald’s room.
“What about Doug Murphy?”
“Blocked me with his lawyers.” Aisha clenches her jaw, lip curling in anger. “This guy is not only covering his tracks—he’s trying to make himself disappear.”
“What do you mean?” Linda asks Aisha, who gives her a soft look.
“I had a meeting with my Captain today. He was asking about this case, but he was... minimizing it. Telling me I needed to spread my workload out, and not put so much priority on this case.”
“What the fuck? Britney was stalking me. She was working with my agent to find out where my wife and I would be. Then my wife is fucking assaulted right after!”
I realize how loud my voice has climbed by the end, and wince, listening for any movement from Emerald’s room. When there isn’t any, I sigh, lowering my voice once more .
“We... you have to find him.”
“I know, Hayden. I want to find this motherfucker just like you do. But he’s smart and slick.
He’s close enough to get in on the action, but far enough to throw someone under the bus and run.
” Aisha looks reluctant to tell me this, scrubbing her face with her hands.
“Fuck. That’s not our only problem. I went to check through the files again after my meeting. ”
I nod, encouraging her to go on.
“There was correspondence that was between Britney and Rick, one that I distinctly remember looking over yesterday. It was talking about a potential appearance in LA on December 26. It was a hotel, and the time your flight was landing.”
December 26.
I remember the email Rick had sent me, the one I read in the locker room.
No Christmas with Emerald.
“Hayden, I went back to check it over today, and it was gone.”