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"Kelsey. Oh, Jesus. Kelsey." I rip my helmet off, flinging it down before I charge through the door separating the benchfrom the arena. I hit my knees beside her, reaching for her hand. "What happened?"
"I don't know!" Laney cries, her expression stricken. "We were talking and laughing, and then she stood up and just passed out."
"Does she have any significant medical history?"
"Leukemia," I whisper. "She has chronic myeloid leukemia and may be falling out of remission."
The EMT across from me nods. "Let's get her to the hospital," he says to his partner. "Let them know we're bringing her in." He glances at me. "How old is she?"
"Twenty-five."
"On the way with a twenty-five-year-old leukemia patient, unconscious."
I don't let them strap her to the board. I lift her in my arms, ready to carry her out of there. The younger EMT opens his mouth to object, but a hard glare quickly silences him. I'm not letting her go, and I'm not leaving her side.
No one else tries to stop me as I carry her out of the arena. It's eerily quiet, or maybe I'm so focused on her that I don't hear all the noise. I don't know. I glance back and see the entire team standing against the boards, their faces etched in fear for the woman in my arms. They love her too. In a different way, but just as fiercely.
I meet Theo's gaze and lift my head, silently letting him know I have her. I won't leave her fucking side, no matter what.
He lifts his chin, his green eyes blazing with emotion for the fiery little woman he views as a sister.
I turn back to her, the game long forgotten. In the grand scheme of things, it just doesn't fucking matter. But I know Theo and Wes will do what needs to be done. They'll win this one for Kelsey.
I follow the EMTs as they lead the way out of the arena toward the medical staging area. At some point, a throng of reporters gets wind of the situation and starts following behind us. I ignore them, refusing to focus on their bullshit. I lay Kelsey carefully on the gurney when we reach the ambulance, and then brush a kiss across her forehead.
She moans slightly, the first sound she's made since I fell to my knees beside her. It gives me hope.
"You can't ride with her, sir." The same EMT tries to block the door when I go to climb into the ambulance.
There are reporters everywhere now, snapping pictures. Kelsey is going to lose her mind when she sees them later. She's going to kick my ass when she realizes I'm the one in the papers this time.
I don't care. I don't care about anything but her.
"That woman is my life," I growl, getting up in his face. "I'm going with her. Move, or I will fucking move you."
"Jesus Christ," he mutters, stepping to the side. "Get in."
I climb in with her, preparing for the longest ride of my life.
Times passes far toogoddamn slowly in hospitals. Seconds last for hours. Hours for an eternity. They crawl on and on, endlessly. I stay by Kelsey's side, refusing to leave. The nurses can't kick me out. The doctor can't. When I told her I wasn't leaving, I meant it. I'm not leaving.
I'm not leaving.
I spend the time processing. There's a lot to wrap my head around. The hematologist on staff threw a lot at me. I understand the gist of it, though. Enough to know our whole world is changing. Fast.
I don't know how I'm going to tell Kelsey. I haven't figured it out yet.
The game ends before she wakes up. If I stressed the hospital staff out refusing to leave, my teammates really do when they show up after the game. They're allowed to stay for all of twenty minutes before the doctor kicks them out.
Theo and Wes are pissed about being kicked out before she's awake. Jonas pouts like an overgrown baby. Eventually, Coach manages to kick them all out, threatening to make them practice tomorrow even though they won tonight.
I sit quietly then, just waiting for her to wake up. I need to see those endless blue eyes again. I don't think I'll be able to breathe fully until I do, regardless of what the doctors say.
"Kris."
I jerk upright in my chair, blinking.
Kelsey's awake, watching me through wide, frightened eyes.
