Delayed Penalty (Crossing the Line, #1)(6)

My body felt almost numb from the adrenaline and feelings of confusion and heartache for this girl I didn't know. When the doors closed, the feeling was so intense I had to reach for the wall to steady myself.

I didn't know why or how, but something made me stay that night. I didn't know her, nor did I have an obligation to stay, but something inside of me rooted me there, telling me I should stay. And I wouldn't have been me if I just simply left her there. Any man who could put his heart and soul into a game of hockey couldn't just walk away when someone needed them. She had no one else right now.

The same guy who saw determination where there was desire now saw hope where there was once despair.

So I stayed. In a room full of family members praying for their loved ones to come through, I prayed for a girl I didn't know and never met before to have a beating heart.

While others' sorrows turned to grieving pain, I sat waiting on the words of the unknown.





Freeze the puck – This happens when the puck is held against the boards with the skate or stick in order to stop play briefly or gain a face-off.




"Seventeen-year-old female rape victim...right pupil dilated...BP 80/60...skull fracture..."

Those were the words swirling around my head, and I wasn't sure what to think or feel for someone I didn't know. This all this seemed unimaginable, particularly when I found out her age. She was just a child. After they kicked me out, they discovered her name was Ami Sutton, a seventeen-year-old female originally from Lebanon, Oregon, who moved here three weeks ago. Both parents were dead. She was alone in a city where no one knew her and now this happened?

"Welcome to Chicago," was my first thought.

"Sir?" a younger nurse called my name, her eyes guarded as she watched the door where the police were standing. I knew at any moment they would be questioning me. "Are you waiting for Ami Sutton?"

Was I?

Well, yeah, I was.

"Yes, I am." I nodded, making my way over to the nurses' station.

"The doctor called and said he's taking her into surgery now. We can call you when she's out."

"I think I'll stay," I told her, glancing down at my phone to see it was now five in the morning on Christmas Eve.

"Suit yourself," she replied, her stare on the clipboard in her hands. "Can I get a phone number and a name in case you're not around when she's out?"

"I said I'll be here. I'll be sitting right over there...waiting."

"Your name then?"

I rolled my eyes, knowing she wasn't going to let me get away. "Evan Masen,"

Her eyes did that shocked—recognition—fluttering thing as she looked from me to the clipboard in front of her. "As in Evan Masen, hockey player for the Blackhawks?"

"Yeah."

She gave me a nod, but it wasn't as cold as it had been.

I must have sat there in the waiting room for a good hour before I wrapped my mind around what I wanted to or should do. My parents and Caitlin were waiting for me, and I knew I'd catch shit from her if I wasn't home.

But I couldn't leave. Anytime I told myself I would, I just sat there and stared at the wall, numb from what I had witnessed.

In the end, I had to know that she'd be okay. Every minute that passed without any word about her condition added to the churning in my stomach.





Having been up for nearly twenty-four hours, I dozed off in the chair only to be woken by a little boy poking my shoulder. I blinked, looking around. The sun was up now, reflecting off the fresh snow.

"Hey," he said, smiling.

Sitting up straight, I dug my palms into my eyes with a yawn. "Hey yourself."

His smile grew a little wider. "You're Evan Masen, huh?"

Raising my hand to my hair, I scratched the top of my head. "Last time I checked I was."

From then on he was a whole mess of words that I didn't catch, but I nodded and agreed. I ended up signing his jersey for him and taking a few photos with him.

That was when the doctor finally came out to deliver the news. He stopped at the nurses' station. She pointed to me, and then he walked over to the window where I was sitting. I stood, not knowing what else to do.

"She's stable, but it's going to be a long road for her." Tired and worn, he rubbed his scrub hat and swallowed. "There was a lot of internal bleeding, and we had to remove her spleen. The head trauma was severe enough that we're keeping her in an induced coma so she can heal."

"What does that mean?" I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the next to keep from swaying, from both exhaustion and nerves.

"It means that she needs time and then we'll take her off the medication, slowly."

"So she might not wake up?"

"It's hard to say," he said, looking over his notes once more. "We're transferring her to Northwestern where she can get better care." He was right. She could get better care at Northwestern. I also liked the fact that it was only four minutes from my condo, and I could get there faster.

Shit. Now you're thinking about travel time?

He patted my shoulder, his expression reassuring. "I'll have the nurses give you her room number. She's going to be there a while." I thanked him and then he gave me a smile. "Good game last night."