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Reluctantly, she raises her hands and pulls her sleeves back. Bandages circle her wrists, but she quickly unwraps one, biting her lip and eyeing me warily. When the white cloth falls away, I suck in a harsh breath. A ring of angry red circles her wrist, deep cuts and slashes like…Fuck. Like she’d been tied up and she’d fought like hell to get out.That motherfucker!Fury courses through me in a way I’ve never felt before, like a river of fire raging through my veins. I reach out a run a finger gently over her cheek.
“And this?”
She looks away before whispering, “He slapped me.”
I inhale sharply but try to force the rage away. I lean in and kiss her softly on the spot just over the bruise before I pull her wrist towards my lips and gently press a soft kiss to the damaged skin. I want to kill him for this, wish I fucking had when I’d had the chance. I want to tear him apart with my bare hands, limb from fucking limb. I've never been a particularly violent person, at least not off the ice, but if given the chance again, I would gladly murder Josh with a song in my fucking heart. I'm not positive what that says about me and quite frankly I don't give a shit.
Josh had bellowed that Hattie was his, that she belonged to him. But she'smine. Not in the same fucked-up, possessive way that he meant it, but in the way that she's a piece of me, a piece that every ounce of my being cries out for. She's mine just like I'm hers, and I fucking protect what’s mine.
Except, I almost hadn’t. I’d almost been too fucking late.
"Baby," I breathe, my voice choked and wavering, my eyes glassy and my throat thick with emotion. I think about what could have happened. She could have been taken from me today—forever. I barely keep the tears back, and her own eyes water as she looks at me. She reaches out to lay a hand on my cheek.
"I'm alright, Con. I promise. Thanks to you."
I meet her eyes and can't stop myself from leaning in to kiss her again, running my fingers along her cheeks and down her neck. We both exhale shaky breaths and eventually, I reluctantly pull away, resting my forehead against hers for a long moment.
"Tell me what happened…after."
"Rand got there just as you passed out and he secured Josh—none too gently, which I’m going to bake him some chocolate chip banana bread for, by the way—until the cops got there. Josh was arrested—”
“So the fucker is still alive then,” I grumble.
“He is,” she sighs, “I cut him up pretty good though. He’s here under 24-hour guard and I heard a nurse saying that he had to have surgery. I don’t know how I feel about what I did or the fact that I would have been happy if he died on that table.” She takes a deep breath before continuing, “But, anyway, he’s been charged with a whole host of things: breaking and entering, unlawful imprisonment, stalking, assault, attempted murder, a bunch more that I can’t remember. And apparently he has warrants out for him back in Texas too—Rand said he already told you some of this. I guess Josh attacked someone at the post office and forced them to tell him what my forwarding address was—that’s how he found me. It’s a miracle the guy didn’t die—Josh, uh, triedveryhard not to leave any witnesses behind," she hedges.
Jesus. The guy really had gone off the deep end. I mean, she’d told me that he was getting there before she moved, but it hadn’t seemed this serious. I guess once she was really gone he just…broke. He sure as fuck seemed completely broken and deranged when I’d been fighting him.
She clears her throat before continuing. "You lost a lot of blood and they had to do a transfusion during surgery, but the bullet thankfully didn't hit anything vital and they were able to remove it completely. You'll be totally fine. Full recovery and able to play again after some rehab."
And then she completely breaks apart. I blink in surprise, but hold her while she cries into my neck, letting her know without words that I'm here, that I'll never be anywhere else.
"I'm so sorry, Connor. God, you almost died because of me."
"Shhhh, none of that, Hattie. Look at me." She doesn't, so I push her back and force her chin up gently with the tip of a finger. "Eyes on me, baby." I curl my lips and that gets a choked half-sob, half-laugh out of her. I brush the hair from her temple, and cup her face, brushing my thumb across her cheekbone. Now I notice that there are smaller, round bruises too that look like they were made by…finger tips?That fucker had gripped her face so hard he left bruises. I bite back the rage that tries to claw free again, somehow keeping it caged.
"Hattie, none of this was your fault, do you understand me?Noneof it. The only person to blame here is Josh. He is the only one who can take responsibility for this. No one else, alright?"
She finally nods and her shoulders slump. "I just…I was so scared, Connor."
"I know," I say, pulling her against me again, ignoring the scream of pain from my shoulder. She rests her head on my chest and I rub the back of her head, smoothing her hair over and over. "I was too. You were so fucking smart and brave, do you know that? Tipping me off like that without letting him know. I wouldn’t have had the balls to try that.” She laughs shakily against my chest. “I mean it. I probably would have pissed my pants.”
“Shut up,” she says, but I can hear the smile in her voice. Small, but there, and I’ll take it.
“We're alright, Hattie. We're both ok." She lets out a long, shuddering breath, as if she’s finally letting go of all of the worry that’s been trapped inside her since this all started. We stay like that for a while, just being together and letting each of us come to terms with what happened on our own. I’m not sure how much time passes, but eventually, she sits up, wiping her eyes and giving me a half smile.
"Well, you should be home before Christmas at least." I groan and she looks alarmed. "What? What's wrong?"
"I'm pretty sure that your psycho ex breaking in and trying to kidnap and possibly murder you and shooting me in the process probably squashes all my hard work of trying to make you love Christmas."
She laughs. Lightly at first, but then it builds and builds, and soon we're both in a fit, nearly unable to breathe, sides aching, tears flowing. I think it's a bit hysterical honestly, like all of the stress and fear from what happened is just coming out now in this insane laughter. We finally subside and she leans in to kiss me hard.
"The fact that you're still alive trumps everything else, baby." She kisses me again and pulls back, smirking. "Plus, you've still got three more days toreallyimpress me."
I get released, try to avoid the media frenzy—a professional athlete in the area getting shot in a home invasion and attempted kidnapping definitely makes the headlines—and do my best to just enjoy the next few days.
Hattie is staying with us, half because her house is still an actual fucking crime scene, and half because I honestly can't stand the thought of her being out of my sight right now. Rand was able to find out that Josh was moved from the hospital and is indeed in jail, locked up tight. The best news was that his rich father actually flipped the script: instead of bailing him out like he's done all his life, the bastard cut Josh off completely. No money, no fancy attorneys, nothing. He even froze all of Josh’s accounts since they were all mostly under daddy’s name anyway. Josh will waste away in jail until his trial and then most likely get the book thrown at him. I’m sure he’ll try to use an insanity defense, but even still, he’ll be locked away somewhere for a very, very long time. My heart absolutelybleedsfor the fucker.
My shoulder is still pretty sore, but it honestly isn't the worst pain I've ever been in, so I can deal with it. I have to start physical therapy after Christmas and will be out of commission for games for a while, which I hate, but all things considered, I'm thankful. Beyond thankful. I can’t even actually express how lucky and grateful and blessed I am.
