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Hoffman rounding on me as I pull him off Baxter. Blood spraying from his mouth when my fist connects.
Impact.
Kneeling beside Baxter as he tries to coordinate his arms and legs to get up. Fails. And goes still.
Panic slicing through me as I find her in the crowd, those big blue eyes wild with fear.
Impact.
Mouthing the words…“It’s going to be okay.”
Chapter 20
Natalie
“Natalie, you’ve seen him hurt before,” George reminds me, rubbing a comforting hand over my arm as we huddle together outside the hospital waiting room. “Concussions are no joke, but your brother has an all-star team of medical professionals behind him. They take this stuff seriously.Hetakes it seriously. He’ll do the right things. He’ll be careful. And thenhe’ll be fine.”
I nod. I know she’s right. But seeing my big beast of a brother down on the ice like that—it terrified me.
Vaughn texted me from the locker room that Greg was awake and already raising hell when they’d loaded him into the ambulance. I spent the drive over getting updates from Julia and passing them on to my mother. It wasn’t until George and I actually got to the hospital that I found out there was another player on his way in.
Vaughn.
He’d shaken off the barrage of punches during the brawl back at the game. I knew he’d been cut, but he seemed okay skating off the ice. And he hadn’t mentioned being hurt in his text. But would he?
George groans beside me.
“What?” I look up, but all I see is Quinn O’Brian. He’s still wearing his suit from after the game, and he’s carrying a couple of coffees our way.
“Hey, Natalie. How’s Greg?” he asks, eyes shifting between us as he holds out the steaming paper cups in offering.
I thank him, grateful for the warmth in my hands even if the caffeine is probably a mistake. We talk for a minute about the doctors and what we’ve both heard, then he turns to George, who’s been studiously ignoring him since he walked up. “Don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Quinn.”
Her eyes come up, hold for a beat, and then drop back to her phone. “Sure you’d remember if we had?”
What the heck?Okay, yeah, George isn’t really into players, but she’s never rude. To anyone. But Quinn just shrugs it off with a sheepish grin. “My reputation that bad?”
It is. And any other day, I might tease him about it, but after everything that’s happened, I don’t have it in me.
George stares at him a moment. Doesn’t answer. Then gives my hand a squeeze. “Hey, give me a few minutes to call home before someone decides to track my phone and sees I’m at the hospital.”
Quinn watches as she heads down the hall, his eyes lingering in a way that makes me wonder if what she said bothered him more than he let on. But then he clears his throat and gives me an uncertain look.
“What?”
“I’m not sure if this makes a difference, but uhh… Vassar is two doors down from your brother on the right.”
* * *
Vaughn
This is bullshit.I don’t need a fucking hospital.
All I need is an ice bath and a fistful of ibuprofen.
Easing off the hospital bed I don’t need to be in, I let out a careful breath and add some tape for my ribs to that list. Yeah, those fuckers are gonna hurt for a couple days, but it’s not like I’ve never played banged-up before.
Baxter’s going to be out for a week, minimum. Sean’s got heart, but he wasn’t a first-line player even before the surgery. And no matter what he says to the press, he’s not one hundred percent.
