53. Dylan
DYLAN
It’s dark when I wake.
At first, all I register is the quiet hum of machines.
The sterile scent of antiseptic. The soft hiss of air conditioning.
Then the dull throb in my skull and the ache in my chest remind me I’m not in my own bed, and the memories…
they come slowly. Disjointed. Like puzzle pieces I’m too afraid to put together.
My fingers twitch beneath the blanket, and I shift, wincing at the sharp twinge that slices through my side. My limbs are heavy, my throat scratchy. I blink up at the ceiling, a faded white with tiny specks, like someone forgot to finish painting.
Hospital.
The realization sinks in with a quiet dread.
I lift my head and glance around, sluggish, disoriented. A single reading light casts a soft glow over the room. There’s a vase of flowers on the windowsill—tulips, I think, but it’s too dark to be sure. Then my eyes catch on the figure slouched in the chair beside me.
Bear.
He’s hunched forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped like he’s praying—or trying not to break something. His head lifts the second I stir, his eyes locking on mine. He doesn’t move for a beat. Just looks at me. Like he’s not sure I’m real.
Then he exhales, deep and shaky, dragging a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ, kid.”
I try to speak, but only a hoarse croak comes out. My throat’s dry as sandpaper.
He stands immediately, grabbing the plastic cup on the tray table and angling the straw toward me. I take a slow sip, the cool water soothing the ache in my throat.
“You’re in the hospital,” he says quietly. “They’re keeping you overnight for observation. Your vitals are good now, though. You’re okay.”
I nod slowly, my body still too heavy to do much else.
“What…what happened?” My voice is rough, barely audible.
“I remember…the tub. Someone… I couldn’t breathe.
I—” My chest tightens as I remember the weight pressing me under, the panic clawing through me.
The struggle. My arms flailing. My lungs burning.
The terror. The rage. The cold. And then…
nothing. “I thought I was going to die,” I whisper.
My last thought had been of the guys. And how we never had the chance to see where things went between us.
Bear’s face crumples.
Not dramatically. Not like in the movies. Just this small, devastating shift. His jaw tightens. His brow draws low. He lowers himself back into the chair like his legs can’t hold him anymore.
“I found him,” he says, his voice raw. “Kyle. Standing over you. I didn’t even realize it was you in the water at first. Just saw someone in the tub. Then I saw your hair.” He shakes his head. “I thought you were dead, Dylan.”
Tears spring to my eyes, hot and burning.
“I got him off you. The guys came in right after. I kept him pinned to the wall while Jax—Jax got you out. They brought you back.” His voice breaks on the last word. He sucks in a shaky breath, forcing himself to hold it together. “I’ve never been so goddamn scared in my life.”
“Bear…”
“I should’ve stopped him,” he says, voice rising with frustration.
“I knew he was spiraling. Ethan came to me, said something was off. Said Kyle had a bone to pick with you. I kept my eye on him. I tried talking to him. Tried getting through to him. I gave him warnings, threatened to bench him. I did everything I could?—”
“This isn’t your fault,” I cut in.
His eyes snap to mine.
“No,” I say, firmer this time. “It’s not. You did everything you could. Kyle made his choices. This was never on you.”
“He was my player,” Bear says, shaking his head. “My responsibility. Your father would’ve—” He stops, pain flashing through his expression. “He would’ve had my head for letting this happen to you. I’m supposed to look out for you. And I almost?—”
“You didn’t,” I whisper. “You didn’t lose me. I’m still here. Because of you. Because of Jax. Because of all of them.”
Silence stretches between us. I reach out, my fingers brushing his hand. He takes it, strong and warm, and for a long time, we just sit there like that. Holding on. Him to me. Me to him.
My chest aches, but for the first time since waking up, it’s not fear that fills it. It’s something steadier. Stronger. Like even after everything, I’m not alone.
“Where are the guys?” I ask eventually, breaking the silence.
“I sent them home to shower and rest. They were hovering over your bed like mother hens.” He clucks in annoyance, but I know he doesn’t really mean that. He loves his players as much as he does me. “They’ll be here first thing, probably at the ass crack of dawn, if I know them.”
I smirk. I wouldn’t expect anything less. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Griffin is hanging out in the waiting room.
Eventually, I close my eyes, exhaustion tugging at me again, but as I drift, peacefully this time, into the abyss, I keep Bear’s hand safely in mine.
When I wake, the calloused hand in mine has been replaced with a much finer, more delicate one. Cracking open an eyelid, I take in the fine lines, the familiar French manicured nails, and sparkling sapphire engagement ring.
“Mom?” Thankfully, my voice isn’t as wane this time, as I lift my gaze to meet hers.
It’s almost a shock. I haven’t seen her in so long.
She looks the same as always, except for the fine lines that have grown around her eyes and lips, and the fresh streaks of gray in her hair that is otherwise the same thick brunette as mine.
She’s…older than I remember. Fragile in a way that tugs at my chest.
The second our eyes meet, hers flood with tears. “Oh, baby.” She’s up in an instant, smoothing my hair back, cupping my face between her palms like she can’t quite believe I’m here, breathing, alive.
“What—what are you doing here?” I’m still stunned to see her. Shocked.
She hasn’t answered any of my calls in months. Hasn’t reached out. Hasn’t…anything.
My gaze moves past her to Bear, who is lounging in a chair nursing a cup of hospital coffee. He grimaces behind her back. “The hospital contacted her. Don’t worry, I went and picked her up.”
Returning my gaze to my mother, I tell her, “You didn’t have to come. I’m fine.” I know how much hospitals bother her—both of us—ever since…
“ Fine?!” I wince at her screech. “Dylan Rae Callahan, from what I am told, you nearly drowned in the team’s hydro pool. You are most definitely not fine.”
I wince again, this time at the accuracy of her words.
Her face crumples. “My baby was hurt. Of course I’m going to be here. Where else would I be?”
I close my eyes, lifting my hands to squeeze her wrists, her hands still cupping my face. I’m overwhelmed by the sheer love pouring from her. When I open them again, Bear is watching us with something soft and almost broken in his eyes.
“How are you feeling?” Mom asks, brushing my hair back again, her hands trembling.
“Sore,” I admit, “but better.”
She gives me one of those mom looks, and I smile despite everything that has gone down in the past twenty-four hours. God, how I have missed that look. Her soft touch. That feeling of being loved. Tears prick the backs of my eyes.
“I swear, Mom. I’m feeling better.” Bringing her hands together in mine, I give her a teary smile. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” She finally sits down again but doesn’t relinquish her tight grip on me. “It’s so good to see you too.” Her eyes run over me affectionately, tinged with sadness. “You look so grown up.” Her smile is watery. “I swear, you look more and more like your father every day.”
I can feel heat in my cheeks as my eyes drop to the bedsheet. My father is still such a sore subject, especially between us. I never know if talking about him will make her smile or set her off…
Mom squeezes my hand tighter. “He would be proud of you, baby. So, so proud.”
The lump in my throat grows to an unbearable size, but before I can respond, the door bursts open and a whirlwind of noise floods in.
Ethan. Finn. Jax. Griffin.
They barrel into the room, all urgency and panic, until they come to a screeching halt, noticing my mom’s presence.
For a beat, the room freezes.
Mom straightens instinctively, smoothing her hair and her shirt, eyes wide as she takes them all in. For a moment, we all just look at one another.
“Well, Dylan, dear, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”
I cough to hide my laugh. “Uh, Mom, these are…some of my teammates.” I introduce them each in turn, and one by one, they step forward, offering polite handshakes and greetings.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” Ethan, of course.
“Your daughter is reshaping the whole team this year,” Jax tells her with a flash of that smile that always renders me speechless.
“She’s keeping us on our toes,” Finn admits.
Griffin steps up last. He doesn’t say anything, but he nods in respect, his gaze lingering the longest on my mother before flicking to me. There are questions there, ones I can’t answer now. Later , I mouth.
Mom’s smile wobbles but holds. “It’s very nice to meet you boys. Thank you…for looking after her.”
They all glance at each other like they’re not sure what to say to that. Mom’s words dredge up bad memories, and the air in the room suddenly feels heavy with guilt. Even if I don’t blame them one bit for what happened yesterday.
Thankfully, we’re saved from further awkward conversation by the ringing of Bear’s cell. He pulls it out and glances at the screen. “I need to take this. I’ll be right outside. ”
The second the door swings closed behind him, the guys turn their full attention to me.
“How are you feeling?” Ethan demands, crowding closer.
“Any pain?” Jax’s face is etched with concern.
“You scared the sh—eh…” Finn glances sheepishly at my mother.
“I’ve spent more than enough time around hockey players, dear. You don’t have to censor your words for me.”