Chapter 59
HAYDEN
“Baby, I’m home,” I call into Hailee’s apartment the second I let myself in after returning home from our road game last night. “Hails?” I try again when nothing but silence greets me.
My brows pull together as I march deeper into the apartment.
I messaged when we landed, and she said that she’d be here.
“Hailee?” I ask louder as I make my way through to her bedroom, and then the bathroom. But there’s no sign of her. “Shit,” I hiss, pulling my cell from my pocket.
I hit dial on her number and wait while it rings, but she doesn’t answer.
I try again, although I’m not sure what good that’s going to do.
She was at work. Maybe something came up and she didn’t get to leave.
It’s probably nothing.
Trying to push my concerns aside, I pull up our message thread and let her know that I’m home and waiting for her.
Putting my cell on top of her dresser, I take off my shoes, strip my clothes off, and help myself to her shower.
I’m expecting to have a response from her when I get out, and my heart sinks when I don’t find anything, even more so when I discover that my message hasn’t even been read.
Pulling on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, I pad back through her apartment, wondering what to do. If I sit down, I’m going to fall asleep.
Hailee and I messaged long into the night after our win last night, and once her messages stopped coming, I couldn’t settle. All my road trips without her are the same. It’s just not right to sleep alone. I hate it.
As I walk into the kitchen, I remember what we bought the last time we went to the store and search through the cupboards until I find it all.
With all my ingredients on the counter, I pull up the recipe that Freya sent me a few weeks ago, hit play on a playlist, and set about distracting myself by attempting to make cinnamon buns.
It’s been years since I’ve baked anything.
Rylee and I used to do it with our maternal grandmother as kids, but after she passed, we never really had a reason to.
Mom is a great cook, but she’s not a baker.
And when Rylee got diagnosed, there were always more important things to think about than making fresh cakes.
Looking back now, I realize it probably would have been a good use of time and the perfect distraction from the pain we were battling through.
My heart is heavy with memories of times gone by with my sister as I work through the instructions that Freya told me I absolutely could not screw up. I’m yet to believe that could be possible, but I’ll keep an open mind.
I’m pretty happy with my dough when I drop it into an oiled bowl and cover it to let it rise. Maybe I can do this.
With my confidence high, I check my cell. But there’s still nothing from Hailee.
As much as I want to believe she’s got caught up in something, I can’t help my stomach from knotting with anxiety.
If she got called away, she’d have messaged me. She knew I was on my way. She’s read that message.
The temptation to abandon all this and head to the arena to find her is strong. I fight it as I wander to the balcony and step outside.
Every minute feels like an hour as I wait for her to respond, but it never comes, and as I roll my dough ready to cut into slices, there’s still nothing.
Once they’re on a baking tray ready for the oven, I can’t wait any longer and I shove them aside, leaving them to their own fate as I push my feet into my sneakers, pocket my keys and cell, and head out.
By the time I pull into my parking space beside the arena, I’m convinced that I’ve let my fears run away with themselves, and I’ll find her in the middle of an important meeting with Anthony, the team owner, or Grady, the GM.
But when I get to her office, I discover that it isn’t the case.
“I’m sorry, Hayden,” Maisie says softly when I ask about her boss. “Miss Caldwell left over an hour ago.”
My mouth opens and closes as panic races through my veins.
I mumble a thanks before spinning around and racing back the way I came. I call her again and again, but there’s nothing. And after checking a few of the places I think she might be, I end up back in the parking garage, none the wiser as to where she might be.
“Hayden Monroe, what can I do for you?” An amused voice flows down the line when Bea answers my call. “Everett, no.” She giggles, making my teeth grind.
I should be making my girl happy like that right now.
“Have you heard from Hailee?” I ask in a rush.
There’s movement down the line before Bea responds with what I don’t want to hear. “No. Is everything okay?” Her voice is suddenly more serious, and I hate that I’m now worrying her too.
“Y-yeah, I’m sure it’s fine. I was just expecting her to be at her place when I got back, and she wasn’t. She’s not at the arena either.”
“I assume you've tried calling her?”
“Yeah, she’s not answering, and my messages aren’t being read.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. I don’t…I don’t know what to do.”
“She won’t have gone far. Maybe she just stopped at the store on the way home and bumped into someone.”
“Who, Bea?” I hate to ask that question, but she knows as well as I do how small Hailee kept her circle before letting us in. Hell, even calling it a circle is a bit much.
“I don’t know,” she says quietly. “What can we do? Do you want us to go look for her, or—”
“No, that’s crazy. She’s probably fine.”
“Yeah, of course she is.”
She has to be. There is no way I can cope if she isn’t. It’s just…nope.
She’s fine. Absolutely fine.
There’s no other option.
“If you need us, we’ll be right there, okay?”
“Yeah,” I mumble.
“I mean it, Hayden. I don’t care what time, or how late it is. Call us. We’re here for you.”
“I know. I really appreciate you guys. I’ll call you when I’ve found her. If you hear from her—”
“I’ll tell you immediately.”
“Thanks, Bea,” I say before hanging up and falling back against my car.
There’s still no reply from Hailee, and as much as I tried to reassure Bea, I’m feeling less and less confident.
“Where are you, baby?” I whisper. But unsurprisingly, no one replies.
As I drive back toward her apartment, my eyes are everywhere, looking for accidents or broken-down cars. But I don’t see anything even slightly suspicious.
I call her again and again, but not a single call is answered.
Instead of going back up to her apartment to continue the wait, I head toward mine just in case she misunderstood and thinks she's meeting me there.
It doesn’t make any sense, because I would have been back hours ago. If she were waiting, she’d have reached out, thinking something was wrong.
But she’s not there, and there aren’t any signs that she has been, either.
With no other idea than to head back to her apartment in the hope she’s returned already, I get back in my car and drive back across town.
My heart pounds as fear grips me in its hold, and my hands tremble despite the death grip I have on the wheel.
I pull back into my space beside her car and rush to get out, desperate to crash into her apartment and find her lounging on the couch like my entire world isn’t spinning out of control.
I take off running toward the elevator, and as I press the button to call for it, I turn around. I have no idea why, but fuck, am I glad I do.
The flash of light catches my eye. I don’t know what it is, the reflection off a watch or something. Whatever it is, it’s enough to lure me toward Hailee’s car.
My heart slams against my ribs as I close in on the passenger side.
Please. Please, let that have been her.
My breath catches, and relief floods through me the second I duck down and look inside.
She’s there.
She’s… “Fuck,” I breathe as I reach for the handle and pull the door open.
“Fucking hell, baby. I’ve been going out of my mind,” I confess as I drop into the passenger seat.
“I…fuck.” One look at her tear-stained face and everything comes crashing down again.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I turn to face her and reach for her hand.
She lets me, which I take as a positive sign, but her tears don’t stop falling, and her chin continues to tremble.
She sniffles, and I fight all my instincts to allow her a moment to compose herself and find her words.
“I…I…” I squeeze her hand. “I’m scared,” she finally confesses.
Lacing our fingers together, I get as close to her as physically possible with the center console between us.
“Why? What’s happened?”
She sucks in a shaky breath before reaching for her cell. She unlocks it and stares at it for a moment, before handing it over.
I don’t look down to start with; instead, I hold her eyes.
“Whatever it is, I’m here. We’ll deal with it together, okay?”
When she nods, I believe her.
Leaning over, I press a kiss to her cheek before looking down at the screen.
At the top is an image I’ve looked at more times than I’d like to admit since I found it on my cell last night after our game, courtesy of Casey.
It’s of Hailee, Bea, Freya, Casey, and Sutton in their Vipers jerseys last night.
I love it. It’s not just a group of friends enjoying watching a sport and the men they love.
It’s so much more than that—for Hailee, at least. It’s strength, trust, embracing new friendships, and experiencing what life can be like with people on your side.
But then my eyes drop to the words written beneath it.
‘Vipers WAGs assembled last night to watch the boys beat the Blackhawks three to two. But who is the new addition to the squad, and is that a Hayden Monroe jersey she’s wearing?’
My brows pinch as my eyes shoot back up to the image.
How do they know what jersey Hailee is—
“Oh fuck,” I breathe, seeing something new for the first time.
“Yeah,” Hailee whispers.
Behind them is a mirror, and the reflection…well, it shows everything Hailee was trying to hide.
“How?”
“I don’t know. I approved it to go up on Casey’s Instagram, but it’s set to close friends and family only. I trust her but—”
“Someone leaked it,” I finish for her.
“I assume,” she says before releasing a huge breath.
“You can get it taken down, though, right? It’s just some bullshit bunny gossip site.”
“Y-yeah. I could easily.”
“Oookay, so…what’s the issue?”
“What if…” Hailee lets her words trail off, and I wait, my heart in my throat. “What if I don’t get it taken down?”
“Uh…”
“I mean, it’s going to come out eventually, right? Is it better to let it be leaked like this and come out slowly than to announce it publicly?”
“I don’t know, Hails. That’s your department, not mine.”
“I just…” She wipes at her cheeks, clearing the lingering tears away. “I’m fed up with hiding, Hayden. I’m fed up with being scared of my past. It shouldn’t be affecting my future, influencing my decisions and the way I live my life.”
“No, it shouldn’t. But it’s still your life, and you have to live it the way that’s best for you. Letting this get out will come hand in hand with press attention. And that…”
“Will make my husband sit up and take notice.”
My stomach knots at the way she calls another man that.
“I don’t want that. But also, it’s time to take control of all aspects of my life and fight for what I want. Yes, he can throw some painful shit my way, but I either figure out a way to ride the storm, or I don’t get to live the life I really want.”
“And what do you really want?” I ask, just to make sure we’re on the same page here.
“I want a future that’s free from the nightmares of my past. I want a future full of hope, happiness, and laughter…with you.”