Page 230 of Risking the Pucking Defense

“I think it’s about as good as it’s going to get.”

“He must be pissed.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Good thing he’s got great friends around him. He’s going to need you all.”

“You too, Hails. You heard my mom earlier—you’re a part of the family now, and that extends to our hockey fam.”

64

HAYDEN

Ifall asleep listening to Hailee tap away on her laptop keyboard an hour or so after we get back from the restaurant.

She felt guilty for having to work, but she didn’t need to. I more than understand how important her job is, especially when it involves news of one of my best friends.

I have no idea what time she eventually turned off and went to sleep, but when we wake the next morning, she looks exhausted. But we don’t have time to rest, and after a quick breakfast and yoga flow that we do side by side, we both head out—her to the arena, ready to deal with making the necessary announcements about Killer’s condition.

My stomach knots the second I walk into the hospital entrance. It doesn’t matter how many times I visit one or for what reasons, fear always rushes through my veins.

Over the years, I’ve spent hours sitting inside various wards, trying to keep Rylee smiling, all the while silently dying inside.

Watching someone you love more than anything suffer, and not knowing if it’s all going to be worth it in the long run, is the most torturous thing anyone can experience.

I have never felt as out of control or useless as I sat there at her bedside, or in a chair, as she was given various chemicals that were meant to give her more time. But all I could see was how sick they were making her.

Now that it’s all over, I like to think it was all worth it. Despite her being ill, we still had some great times together. I can’t think of it any other way or it’ll destroy me.

Rylee might never have achieved her dreams, but she saw me slay mine, and I have to believe that’s enough. She was so happy for me the day I signed my Entry Level Contract with the Vipers. If she had never had some of that treatment, she might not have seen that.

Shaking those thoughts from my head, I glance at the message from Rett letting me know where Killer is before pressing the button to call an elevator.

It only takes me a few minutes to locate his ward and then the room he’s in.

As I pass the nurses’ station, all eyes turn on me, watching my every step with interest.

Oh yeah, Killer is going to be treated like a king in here.

I knock on his door, but the second I open it, I discover that it wasn’t necessary; there’s no way he’s sleeping, because Rett and Linc’s booming laughter hits my ears.

Feeling a little more at ease knowing that they’re here, I march inside and join them.

The sight of Killer lying in a hospital bed and tucked under stark white sheets gives me pause. But I recover quickly. The last thing he needs right now is to be worrying about anyone else. His recovery should be his top priority.

“Hey, man,” I say, holding my fist out to bump his.

“Hey,” he says, his voice rough as if he hasn’t been awake long.

“So, what’s so funny?” I ask, instead of diving into all the medical crap. Hailee has given me as much information as she can, and that, along with some Googling, is enough to give me a good idea of what we’re looking at here.

I was right last night that immediate surgery is good. It should help speed up his rehab, but he’s still looking at a minimum of nine months before he can even consider being back with us. And by then, the season will be over. But, if his rehab goes well, it could mean that next season he’ll be back with us. Fuck, I hope so. It isn’t going to be the same without him.

“Killer trying to chat up the nurse,” Linc states.

“She was interested.”

“Trust us, she was far from interested.”

“Because I’m her patient. But I’ll be discharged later, and then it’ll be a different story,” Killer says confidently.