Chapter 43
Forty-Three
MALAKI
“That was a filthy assist, Young! Finally getting your head in the game.” Kane slaps me on the back before the rest of my teammates do the same.
I gladly accept the praise from them.
Lars skates past, getting in position. “How did they cream us for game one but are skating like a bunch of bitches today?”
“Don’t jinx it,” Kane snaps.
I turn and glance at the stands.
Where are they?
“Focus.” Volkova’s voice is stern, like a father’s. “Don’t worry about it.”
I mentally shake myself and focus. If I don’t, he’ll give me another pep talk.
When Reese and Charleigh didn’t show up for warm-ups, I couldn’t seem to get my shit together for the game, and thanks to Coach’s last-minute defensive strategies after the first quarter, I didn’t have time to check my phone to see what was going on.
Then quarter two rolled around, and I was just as sloppy.
Rhodes pulled me to the side, wrapped his bare hand around the back of my neck, and squeezed tight. “What is your problem?”
I quickly explained in between whistle blows, and he shook his head, reassuring me that if something were wrong, I’d know by now. Not to mention, kids are unpredictable–he knows that better than anyone.
And he was right.
I was able to check my phone after the second quarter, and I saw a picture of Charleigh in the jersey I had made for her with a text that said they’d be late.
However, the clock is dwindling, and I still have yet to spot them in the crowd.
Maybe Charleigh spit up everywhere, and they needed an outfit change.
Or maybe she fell asleep, and Reese didn’t want to wake her by bringing her into a rowdy arena with screaming fans. Reese did say that Char’s been trying to cut a tooth, which means she hasn’t been sleeping well.
The whistle blows, and we lose the faceoff.
I skate fast, showing off what I’m known for.
I’m behind the backside of the goal in record time, my eyes tracking the little black puck like it’s the only thing that matters.
“Left!” I shout.
Shavings fly from my hashmarks against the ice, and I block the shot before it can head for Olson.
I send it teetering down the ice where Rhodes is waiting.
The wingers take over, and before I know it, the game is over.
My breaths are labored, my legs ache, but we won.
I wait until the hurrah is finished and race past everyone to get to the locker room.
“Mittens?” someone shouts from behind me.
I pull them off and toss them toward the equipment manager without breaking stride.
“Jeez,” Corbin, a veteran player who doesn’t get as much action anymore, sits on the bench and watches me rush toward my locker. “You’re never the first in here after a game.”
I chuckle, half paying attention, and pull out my phone.
Nothing.
There’s no missed call. No text message.
Something isn’t right.
I feel it in my gut.
My heart skips a beat on the first ring.
She answers on the second and sounds out of breath. “Malaki.”
“What’s going on? Is it Benedict?”
“No,” she rushes out. “I was waiting for the game to end before I called you. I didn’t want you to worry.”
Too late.
The locker room starts to fill. I turn my back to block the chatter.
“It’s Charleigh.”
My shoulders tense. “What do you mean?”
Reese’s shaky breath echoes through the phone. “She fell before we left for the game. I’m at the hospital.”
My world stops.
Panic like I’ve never felt before slams into me.
I press a fist to my chest to stop the tightening. “I’m on my way.”
I'm sweaty and short of breath by the time I walk through the ER doors. It’s nearly empty, only a few seats taken, one by an elderly couple and the other by a mom and a coughing toddler.
“Reese Moreno,” I say as soon as I walk up to the reception area.
The woman’s eyebrows furrow. “Um?”
Anxiety claws at my chest. “I’m here to see my fiancée. Our daughter fell, and they’re in a room somewhere.”
Our daughter?
Did I really just say that?
Either way, it worked. The woman clicks a button, and two swinging doors open. “Go through there. Take a left down the hall. They’re in room four.”
My strides are hurried, my forehead tacky with sweat. I grip the curtain, peek behind it, and immediately spot Charleigh.
Relief and worry hit me like a tidal wave as I take in the scene.
Charleigh is lying on Reese’s chest with a bandage wrapped around her entire head, the blue bow holding her tiny ponytail still intact. Dried blood is sprinkled all over her new jersey and her mom’s too.
“I’m going to start calling you Rocky instead of Charleigh-girl,” I utter, heading right for her.
Reese looks up and blinks the exhaustion from her eyes. “Malaki.”
Charleigh’s eyes grow wide with a smile. “Da!”
I sit on the edge of the bed and look her over quickly. Other than the bandage around her head, she seems okay. Fully intact. Still smiling and warming me from the inside out.
“Did you fall?” I ask her, bopping her on the nose.
“Da!”
I chuckle and hold my hands out to see if she’ll give Reese a break.
She leans forward, and I take her in my arms before swinging my legs over the bed and resting beside Reese. She scoots over to make room as Charleigh’s little hand reaches for Reese’s phone that’s playing an episode of Ms. Rachel.
She settles onto my chest, fully content.
“I assume no concussion if she’s watching Ms. Rachel?” I ask, peering at the top of Reese’s head. She’s so much smaller than I am that her head hardly reaches my shoulder.
Reese’s chest expands with a heavy breath. “No. Just twelve stitches and years off my life.”
My chest vibrates with a quiet chuckle.
I take my hand and interlace our fingers together before giving them a squeeze. “You okay?”
She glances down at herself. “Why? Do I not look okay?”
Dried blood is smeared all over her chest, her hair tangled at the ends. One of her dimples appears, followed by her cheeky smile.
Oh, she’s got jokes tonight?
“You look stunning. Even with blood all over you.”
“I think that makes you a psychopath.”
I hum under my breath. “For you? I’d be anything.”
She snorts out a laugh, her smile growing wider. “I don’t know how you can make me laugh after the night I’ve had.”
“It’s a talent of mine.”
“That and hockey,” she says.
I rest against the back of the bed and haul Charleigh up to make her more comfortable.
“Well…if you managed to watch the game, one could argue that hockey is not my talent.”
At least during the first two quarters. I was on fire during the third.
“What? Why? What happened?” Reese’s voice brinks on the edge of panic, so I squeeze her hand to get her to relax.
“I was…distracted.”
“Distracted?” she repeats.
I glance over to see her silent question on her face.
“I was worried,” I admit. “When you two didn’t show up for the game. I didn’t have a chance to look at my phone, and all the stuff with Benedict…I was worried something happened.”
Reese shuts her eyes and brings her hand up to squeeze the bridge of her nose. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve had Daisy pull you to the side. I didn’t want to distract you from the game or worry you.”
When is she going to realize that she’s always a distraction to me? If she isn’t in my line of vision, I wonder where she is. If she doesn’t answer my calls, I think about sending a search party for her. I’m half-tempted to turn on her location services just to ease my mind.
Our eyes meet, but before I can say anything, the curtain slides open, and in walks Zoe holding two to-go cups of what I assume is shitty hospital coffee.
“The hoops I had to go through for these!” she announces.
Once she sees me, she stops abruptly and pulls the cups to her chest. “Don’t you dare. If you want coffee, you’re on your own.”
I make a disgusted face. “I don’t drink coffee.”
Zoe stares at me. “So you were just born with energy?”
I shrug. “I’ve always been a little hyperactive.”
“Or insane,” she mutters.
She walks closer to the bed while mumbling under her breath, “Doesn’t drink coffee…what a psycho.”
Teasingly, I reach for her cup. She sends me a glare that rivals a wolf but quickly wipes the look off her face when the doctor walks in.
“Aw.” She smiles at Charleigh resting against my chest. “Looks like Daddy is all you needed.”
Zoe’s coffee sputters from her mouth.
The doctor leans backward and grabs onto her pager, like she’s ready to let the trauma team know they have a choking patient in the ER.
“Are you okay?” she asks Zoe.
“She’s fine,” Reese seethes.
Zoe slaps her chest a few times, her face red. “Coffee went…” She pauses to cough. “Down…” Another cough. “The wrong tube.”
I bite down on my tongue to keep myself from laughing.
The doctor walks over to Charleigh on my lap and gently lifts the bandage to inspect the stitches. “These look great. I think we’re ready to discharge her.”
I sit up a little taller. “Any precautions for the night? No concussion, correct? Allowing her to sleep is okay?” I rattle off questions one by one, not caring if Zoe is going to make fun of me for being overprotective later.
I mean, the doctor did refer to me as her father, so I might as well act like it, right?
“Correct. There is no concussion. Just a bad tumble on the stairs that led to a nasty cut. I’ll get your discharge papers.”
As soon as the doctor leaves, I turn toward Reese. “She fell down the stairs?”
Damnit, I should have gotten one of those gate things.
She immediately looks elsewhere, hiding her face from me.
“It was just the first two. I only looked away from her for a split second. I had just moved her away from the stairs, and by the time I looked over, she was on them again. I swear I was watching her, Malaki.” Her explanation is rushed, the words flying out of her mouth at record speed.
“Hey, whoa.” I pull on her hand to get her to look at me. “You don’t think I’m mad, do you?”
Reese peeks at me with too many hidden emotions for me to even begin to decipher. “I…no? I don’t know.”
Zoe chimes in. “It’s because Benedict would use this against her if he knew. Blame her and make her feel awful for it.”
I let go of Reese’s hand and touch the side of her cheek to turn her to face me completely. “I am nothing like Benedict, Reese. My only thought was how I should’ve gotten a baby gate for the stairs.”
She blinks several times, her eyelashes fluttering back and forth like the wings of a butterfly. “Oh.”
“As a matter of fact…” I pull my phone out of my pocket, while making sure not to disrupt Charleigh watching Ms. Rachel, and type in the words baby gate into the search engine. “I’m buying one right now.”
Reese’s warm laugh brushes against my skin. “You don’t have to do that. This is my responsibility–”
The words die on the end of her lips when I flick my eyes in her direction. She shuts her mouth instantly and turns away with her dimples showing.
Doesn’t she understand that she and Charleigh are my responsibility now?
Or at least, I want them to be.