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Time sped up.
Billie bent low, her legs spread wide, hands on her stick, ready to pounce.
The opposing team had pulled out all the stops. He recognized at least two hot shot former Jr. players. Guys that had cut their teeth in Canada. Guys that had most likely just missed the cut to play in the big league.
He also saw Seth.
Logan chewed on his mouth-guard. He didn’t like this set up. He wanted to be out there to take care of the Longwood situation once and for all. He put his glove on the door handle, but the puck dropped before he could do anything.
Billie won the draw, her clean, quick jab sending the puck back to Shane, who passed it to Danvers.
And then she was on the move. The way she skated was poetry in motion. Effortlessly. Gracefully. She wound around an opposing forward, keeping away from the boards as she skated toward center ice.
Seven seconds.
Danvers skated forward, but lost the puck at center ice, a quick poke from the other team.
Four seconds.
The puck deflected off someone’s skate and somehow Shane scooped it up and he immediately passed it up the middle, while the wingers checked and fought to clear a path for Billie.
Two seconds.
She was there, with Longwood on her ass. He jabbed her legs, hacking at the back of her calves, the dirty son-of-a-bitch, but she held on to the puck and let loose a hard wrist shot that beat the goalies extended leg, to land behind him.
The buzzer went.
The entire bench erupted in cheers and Logan tossed his stick, but his grin faded when he saw that Longwood wasn’t stopping and he was over the side of the bench in an instant, screaming Billie’s name, but with the noise all around she couldn’t hear him.
Longwood hit her hard and she didn’t have a chance.
The fury that rolled through Logan when he saw her crash into the boards was something he’d never felt before. In that moment he understood what it felt like to want to kill a man, because if he had his way, that’s exactly what he’d do.
His teammates went crazy, as did the entire crowd.
Shane grabbed Longwood and hauled him away but all Logan saw was Billie, crumpled up on the ice along the boards.
And she was still.
The linesman stood over her, his lips moving but Logan couldn’t hear shit from the roaring in his ears. He reached her side a second later and fell to his knees, his heart in his throat.
“Billie! Jesus Fuck. Are you all right?”
The linesman was yelling for a trainer, or anyone with medical experience, while the referee was yelling at Logan not to move her.
And all he could do was stare down at the woman he loved. A woman he’d walked away from without giving her the chance to explain and he knew that if something happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. She would be his biggest regret.
Something hot pricked the corners of his eyes and he kneeled down, his voice hoarse.
“Billie, don’t you dare flake out on me now.”
Was that a flutter behind her eyelids?
“Billie?” His hands were on her shoulders.
Her eyes flew open. “You’re late,” she said and then she winced. “Holy shit that felt like a freight train.” She struggled to sit and yanked off her helmet. “Was it Longwood? Because I’m going to—”
But she didn’t get a chance to say what she was going to do.
