Chapter one
Vaughn
My heart thumps in my chest, hard and steady, as I stare down at the ice in front of me. My nostrils flare, inhaling deeply, feeling the cold burning against the inside of my nose.
“Ready to lose, Carter?”
I lift my gaze from the ice and stare at the player across from me just as the ref skates over to us. Positioning my stick, I place the blade against the surface beneath me, waiting for the puck to drop. Time feels like it’s momentarily suspended. My eyes drop back to the ice and within two heartbeats, the frozen piece of rubber is falling down in between our sticks.
Time shifts, moving into real time as we battle over the puck. I get the advantage, lifting the shaft of his stick with my own before I gain possession of the puck and pass it to one of my teammates. Hayden receives the pass and sends it over to Sterling who is moving through the neutral zone. I start to move, skating into position as we head toward the net together. It’s a play we’ve practiced numerous times, so I anticipate the puck hitting the blade of my stick as Sterling has a defensive player coming to him.
The blades of my skates create friction as I skate harder. The muscles in my legs burn, but I ignore it, knowing my shift will be over soon enough and then I’ll have a moment to recover. My strides grow longer and are purposeful as I make a mental note of the goaltender dropping into the butterfly position. This particular goalie loves the butterfly which leaves the top pockets of the net open for me.
The second I give my attention to the goalies positioning is the same second when a defensive player enters my field of vision. He’s charging directly toward me, and I don’t have much time to move out of his way. I attempt to move to the right to skate around him, but he doesn’t hesitate to follow. As he changes directions with me, I catch a glimpse of his number, realizing he’s one of their players who’s known for being extremely reckless and volatile.
He’s fast–much faster than I expected and he has no issue keeping up with me. I weave, my blades cutting through the ice as I quickly move to the left. He positions himself directly in front of me, bracing himself for impact as my knee collides with his. I have no time to act, no time to anticipate any of it. It’s like an out of body experience as it happens, but reality doesn’t hesitate to pull me back into the moment.
A pain like nothing I’ve ever felt before erupts beneath my knee cap. It spreads along my nerve endings like wildfire as I crumble onto the ice in an instant. My entire leg gives out, rendering it useless from the injury. I’ve never experienced a limb being torn from my body, but I imagine it has a similar feeling. It feels like the lower half of my leg has been completely separated from the top.
Rolling onto my side, my left leg flops on top of my right and it’s on fire from the pain. Blinking rapidly, I try to force away the tears in my eyes from the sensation. The muscle in my jaw tightens and I clamp my teeth together with rapid and shallow breaths coming through my nose.
Blackness grows around the perimeter of my vision as Coach and one of the athletic trainers appear in front of me. A few of my teammates are crowded behind them. Silence encapsulates us all. You could hear a fucking pin drop inside the stadium.
“Can you move it?” Coach questions me as the athletic trainer stares at my mangled leg for a moment.
“Shit,” I hear Hayden, one of our defensemen mumble under his breath.
The connection between my brain and mouth fails to work. I don’t have to see a doctor to know my career is over. I look at Coach and shake my head as I swallow roughly. I don’t know which hurts worse, the physical pain beneath my kneecap or the pain that licks at my heart right now. I look past him to my teammates, seeing the somberness in their expressions.
“King and Barrett,” Coach barks at two of them. “Help him up. We need to get him off the ice.”
Sterling and Hayden move around him, crouching down beside me. I plant one of my gloved hands against the ice, attempting to help them as they hoist me up, but my efforts are futile. I wrap my arms around the backs of their necks as they both take their positions on either side of me. They support me as I try to stand upright, but the instant my injured leg moves, pain sears through my entire body. The intensity is too much and I can’t handle it.
I yell out, the sound foreign, but it’s quickly drowned out as everything around me goes black and I sink into the depths of the darkness.
***
Waking up in a haste, I sit up abruptly, my eyes darting around the dark room. The hairs on my forehead stick to my skin as I’m drenched in my own sweat. My heart pounds erratically in my chest, rattling against my rib cage. It feels like the wind has been knocked out of me and I struggle to take in a deep breath. My brain finally catches up, making note that I’m at my parent’s house.
I throw the blanket away from my body, my left knee throbbing as I glance down at it, hoping it was only a bad dream. The moon casts light through my window, illuminating my bare leg. Angry, jagged scars are etched in my skin along my knee and thigh.
This—this is the real fucking nightmare.
It’s been two years since my injury.
Two years since I was on the ice.
Two years since everything changed.
It’s almost as if the amount of time that has passed doesn’t even matter. I live through the memory every night when I close my eyes. It’s always the same dream–a step by step recount of the injury that cost me my entire future in hockey.
Collapsing onto my back, I inhale and exhale to regulate my breathing and steady my heart. I’m afraid to close my eyes again, so I don’t. I lie in my bed, staring up at the ceiling until the sky starts to change colors. First comes the deep blue before it begins to lighten. It shifts into a pinkish orange tone as the sun begins to fully crest the horizon.
It isn’t long before the house comes to life and I hear everyone moving around. After my accident, my parents insisted I come back to live with them until I was healed. My knee was completely blown out and my ACL was shredded beyond repair. They weren’t able to salvage any of the original ligament, so they removed part of my hamstring and made a graft out of it.
ACL injuries aren’t uncommon in sports and most times, people make a full recovery. It was the severity of mine that was the real kicker. The damage in my joint was extensive and there were fractures in my femur. As if that wasn’t enough, the muscles in my thigh were fucked up from the force of the blow to my leg.
My leg was fucking ruined. It was a long road to recovery with the different surgeries I had to undergo. Not to mention the months of physical therapy afterward. I’m still not one hundred percent, and I never will be. There’s a lingering pain that decides to visit me on occasion and when there’s too much strain on my leg or the muscles grow tired, I walk with a slight limp.
I haven’t touched the ice since I was carried off that day and the motherfucker who did this was able to walk away from it. All he got was a two-minute penalty and a sprained knee.
***
“Vaughn,” my mother says softly from the other side of my door as she gently knocks on the wooden surface. It draws my attention away from the window and I glance at the closed entrance. “Are you awake?”
I want to sink beneath the wall I’ve constructed around myself and tell her to go away. My poor attitude pushed a divide between me and most people in my life. My mother is one who has refused to let it get in her way. She hauled me to all my appointments and made my recovery a priority even when I wanted to throw it all away.
A sigh slips from my lips and I sit up straighter in bed, resting my back against the headboard. “Yeah, the doors unlocked.”
The knob slowly turns and my mother lets herself in before closing the door behind her. I don’t miss the sadness in her eyes as our gazes collide. I feel like shit for the hell I’ve put her through these past two years. I know it wasn’t easy for her to watch her son become a shell of a person. She lightly taps my legs and I move them out of the way as she sits down on the edge of my bed.
“I thought maybe you would come down for breakfast this morning. Your father and I wanted to talk to you before we get the rest of the things moved.”
My parents sold my childhood home and we have to be out within the next few days. Since they both retired, they decided it was time to downsize. They don't need a house this size with all their kids out of the house... well, except for one. My time living here has come to an end and it's time for me to find my own way in life again.
I shrug with indifference, feeling the emptiness in my stomach, but I ignore it. “I wasn’t hungry.”
A frown pulls on her lips and it only adds to the guilt. I drifted into such a dark mental space after I got hurt that I’m not sure who I am anymore. When she talks to me, it has to feel like she’s speaking to a complete stranger. Hell, I feel like a stranger in my own body.
"I know today isn't a good day," she says quietly as she rubs my calf. "You've been avoiding every time I ask, but have you found an apartment or anything yet?"
Fuck.
My parents made sure I had plenty of time to find my own place before they moved south for their retirement. I have had every opportunity to look and every time I've started to, it was so overwhelming, I stopped. I don't know what the fuck my problem is or why I haven't been able to bring myself to complete the task.
My mother frowns as her eyes search my face. She doesn't need an answer, for it's already written within my expression. “Your father and I were talking about you staying at the lake house for the summer.” Her voice is soft and gentle, jogging my memory of when she used to read me bedtime stories as a child. The sound of her voice used to lull me to sleep. “Since we won't be there and George retired, we need someone to manage the store and I think the change of scenery could be good for you. You can use the summer to figure out what you're going to do next.”
My eyes drop down to my lap and I instantly feel guilt. I've been nothing but a freeloader the past two years and now they're giving me another handout. “I don't know if I should do that. You both have already done enough for me.”
“Stop it, Vaughn,” she demands, shaking her head at me as her eyebrows scrunch together. “We know how hard this has been on you. Has it been longer than anyone imagined? Yes, but there is no time limit on healing. We want you to find yourself again. To find what brings you joy and passion in life.”
"What if nothing brings me joy?" I let out a breath. "What am I supposed to do, Mom?"
She stares at me for a second, half surprised by my words. This is the most open I've been with her in a very long time. “You go to the lake. You manage the store. You find yourself.” She pauses, her crystal blue eyes boring through mine as she crosses her arms over her chest. “You've spent a lot of time wallowing in your own misery. It's time to pick yourself up. You will figure it out, I know you will.”
She's much more confident than I am. I wish I felt the same way, but I'm filled with nothing but self doubt. This is all a waste of time. I've been trying to figure out my fucking life for the past two years. What difference will one summer make?
“Okay, fine,” I admit in defeat as I swing my legs off the side of the bed. “You win.”
I haven’t been to our family home on Stillwater Lake since my senior year of high school. That was eight years ago. I’m not exactly thrilled to spend my summer renting out boats and smelling like rotten fish from the bait.
My mother lets out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing as her expression softens. “It's not about winning or losing, Vaughn,” she says with a frown as she steps in front of me. “It’s about moving on in life. You’ve been in a dark, depressed place for far too long. It's time to close this chapter and see what comes next.”
I hate when she does this to me. My parents have been nothing but patient and understanding for the past two years while I’ve been going through my own shit. She's right, even if I don't believe it. Even if I don't want to admit it.
“I get it.”
Her eyes bounce back and forth between mine as they light up with hope. “It will be good for you.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” I tell her as I stand up, wincing as I straighten my knee. It’s always a little stiff when I first get out of bed. “Maybe the change of scenery will be good.”
“The lake has a way of healing souls,” my mother tells me with a touch of excitement in her tone. “Plus, you don't have much of a choice unless you miraculously find an apartment today.”
I fall silent as I watch her turn back to my door. I can't tell if she's giving me shit or being serious. She stops beneath the threshold, looking over her shoulder at me with the biggest smile that I’ve seen on her face in the past two years. She disappears through the doorway, pulling it closed behind her as she slips out into the hallway.
She thinks that this move will be good for me.
I can only hope that she’s right.
***
Lifting my suitcase into the trunk, I arrange it with my other bags as my parents step out into the garage to send me off. Pulling the hatch down, I slam it shut before turning to face them. They’re both wearing the most genuine smiles on their faces and it makes me even more annoyed with myself. I did this to them. I caused the strain in everyone’s goddamn lives. My own two brothers rarely even speak to me because of the asshole I’ve turned into.
“You’ll want to turn the air cooler when you get there. I set it to seventy-five when I left last weekend. Mr. Martin will be expecting you at the shop tomorrow,” my father tells me as he hands me the keys to the lake house. “He’ll be working the weekend shifts and then Miss Nancy works in the evenings during the week. You’ll just have to cover the day shifts during the week.”
I nod in acknowledgment, taking the keys from him before I slip them into the front pocket of my shorts. “Is Mr. Martin okay with working the weekend shift?”
“He wanted more time off, but when George said he was retiring, Mr. Matin knew we’re coming up on the busy season and will need the help,” my father explains, his face looking a little surprised that I’m even asking. I’ve kept my distance from him because I can’t help but feel like a goddamn disappointment in his eyes.
He pushed me so hard growing up. I wanted nothing more than to please him, to make him proud and happy. I'll never forget the excitement on his face when I told him the news of playing professionally.
I'll also never forget the sadness when it was all thrown away.
“We’re going to come this weekend, just to make sure things are going well and you’re adjusting fine,” my mother informs me. Stillwater Lake is a little under two hours away from our house, but my parents don’t go there as often as they used to anymore. She steps towards me, pulling me in for a hug before she kisses my cheek. “Thank you for doing this, Vaughn. We really appreciate the help.”
I swallow roughly over the lump lodged in my throat. “You didn’t really give me a choice,” I remind her as she takes a step back. She flashes her bright white teeth at me as my father shakes my hand like we just ended a formal business meeting or something. That’s Flynn Carter for you.
“Take care of things at Stillwater. We’re trusting you with all this.”
The weight of his words settles on my shoulders. At twenty-five, they should be able to trust me. “I will.”
My mother follows me over to the driver’s side as I slide in behind the wheel. I wince as I bend my bad knee and tuck it into the car. “Are you going to be okay to drive that far?”
There’s no malicious intent behind her words but it makes me feel inadequate. “I don’t use my left foot to drive, mother.”
Her lips part slightly as if she’s going to say something else, but she quickly clamps them shut and nods instead. “Drive safely and let me know when you get there so we know that you got there without any issues.”
“Sure thing,” I offer, although my voice falls flat and my smile feels forced.
“We love you, honey,” my mother says as she begins to push my door shut for me. There’s a touch of sadness back in her eyes and I’m not sure what is evoking the emotion in her right now.
“Love you too,” I tell her before the door closes completely. Putting my foot on the brake, I press the start button that brings the engine to life. My parents follow my car out into the driveway as I begin to back away from the two of them. As I reach the street, they both wave and I offer them a hand before whipping the car away from the curb.
The farther that I get away from the house, the heavier my heart feels. My childhood home is gone and now I am driving a few hours away to another town that isn’t home either…
I have no idea where I belong anymore.