“Stephen,” she whispers. “You have to know he didn’t want this.”
I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut, at a complete loss for words. I saw the play; I saw the way they teamed up to hit Alexander from both sides. Presley might be able to believe that Chance didn’t do it on purpose, but I know better. It’s what he does, what he’s capable of. He has anger issues. Always has.
And now my best friend has to pay the price.
Two days.
It’s been two days since the game. Two days since Alexander has been in a coma. Two days since I’ve spoken to Stephen.
Two days since my heart has splintered in half.
Ivanov crossed a line that night. I had it handled; I was covering Alexander, putting pressure on the play. We were both scrambling for possession of the puck, heads down, and I caught a glimpse of him coming one second too late. I shouted for him to stop, tried to alert Alexander, but it all happened so fast.
This was the last thing I ever expected.
I’ve tried to call Stephen for the past two days, but he refuses to answer. I don’t want Presley feeling like she’s in the middle of this, so I told her to stay with him and be strong for him while he’s waiting for his best friend to come back to him.
Ifhe comes back.
Memories of my mother have been at the forefront of my mind. If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t have run out in front ofthe car to protect me from my father. If it weren’t for me, maybe Alexander wouldn’t be in a coma right now.
It’s like everything I touch turns to shit.
Like I’m destined for nothing but horror and sadness.
I’ve known it all along. I only deluded myself these last few months, letting myself believe that I could have things as beautiful and pure as love and happiness.
I was so fucking wrong.
Stephen’s car pulls up to Presley’s house, and rolls into the driveway. I get out of my car and make my way up the path to meet him before he goes into the house.
He does a double-take over his shoulder, and glares at me with tired, sunken-in eyes. “Get the fuck out of here, Chance.”
“Can we just talk?”
“I have nothing to say to you.” He turns and walks toward the porch stairs. “Do not follow me. You’re not welcome here.”
“Stephen, please.” Presley’s voice has both of our heads snapping up to the front door. “Talk to him. We can sit together and talk it out.”
“There is nothing to talk about, Pres.” Stephen’s jaw clenches. I’ve never seen him so angry before. So closed off. “Alex is in a coma because ofhim. There’s nothing he can say to make this better.”
“Chance!” Avery pushes past Presley and bounds down the stairs, jumping into my arms. “You’re here.”
“Hey, bud.” I wrap my arms around him and hold him tight.
“I missed you,” he says, his voice muffled against my chest.
Unexpected tears sting my eyes. “Me too.”
Alyssa runs out the door next. “Chance, are you staying?”
I hug her to my side, emotion clogging my throat. I don’t know what to say, don’t know if I belong here anymore.
“Chance is going home,” Stephen says. He crosses his arms over his chest, drawing a clear line in the sand between us.
The kids look to Presley.
I don’t want to do this in front of them, and I know Presley doesn’t either. I need to walk away, as much as it kills me.
