Rebound (Seattle Steelheads #1)(55)

“Of course I am.”

Val and Laura stared at me knowingly.

Yet again, if my head hadn’t hurt so bad, I’d have rolled my eyes. Yeah, yeah. Point taken.

“Well. Thanks for bringing them. It’s good to see them.” I managed a smile. “And you.”

She smiled back and gave my hand a squeeze. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

And while I could think of less painful reasons for my kids to want to see me, I admittedly found some comfort in knowing they were worried. I didn’t want to scare them or their mom. That was why I’d always downplayed injuries—my family worrying themselves senseless wouldn’t make the injury better, so why put them through it?

Tonight it made me feel both guilty and relieved to know the kids still worried enough to want to see for themselves that I was all right. Maybe that meant they didn’t hate me over things with Marcus after all, though I would’ve preferred not to put them through this just to verify that. Having them stay mad at me was, in its own way, better than scaring the hell out of them like this.

Or something. Maybe I’d hit my head harder than I thought. I’d think about all this later.

For now, I’d just enjoy having my kids in the same room again.





Chapter 14


Asher



From the second period on, I managed to play on… Well, let’s say six cylinders. Not quite all eight, but better than the first period. In the third, I pulled it together, and though I missed the goal twice, I assisted on the two goals that gave us the lead and ultimately the win. The game had had a rough start, but the season was off to a good one, and that was what really counted.

“Nice job, Crowe.” Coach slapped my back as we headed up the chute. “I was worried there in the beginning, but you didn’t let me down.”

“Just needed to get my head in the game.”

Which I’d done because seat 4K was empty.

It was the first thing I’d noticed when I’d come back for the second period. I’d convinced myself Nathan wouldn’t go quietly, but he was gone, so I could finally do my job.

In the locker room, I dropped on to the bench and started unlacing my skates. I was so ready to get out of here, message Geoff, and find out exactly how things had gone. Where was Nathan now? Was he in jail? Please tell me he was in—

“That’s a new one,” Kelleher was saying to Bruiser. “A cop getting into a fight at a game?”

My head snapped toward them.

“It wasn’t a fight,” Bruiser said. “Sounds like the guy was a drunk idiot and took a swing at the cop. That isn’t much of a fight.”

“I heard there was blood, though,” Grady interjected. “Heard one of the security guys saying he got a look in the room? Blood everywhere.”

My stomach lurched. Someone hit a cop? Blood everywhere? Oh fuck. What the hell happened?

My teammates and their conversation continued past me as they headed for the showers, and I lunged for my jacket to get my phone. I fumbled it a few times as I took it from my pocket, and finally had it steady enough to read the screen.

There was a message from Geoff: All good.

Okay, but was it? Was it really?

I shakily wrote out: How did it go? Are you okay?

Then I got the hell out of my pads and skates, and pulled on an old jersey, jeans, and a pair of sneakers. Forget grabbing a shower. I didn’t give a shit what I smelled like—Geoff was my priority now.

“Crowe?” Coach said. “You want to tell me what’s—”

“I’ll fill you in later, Coach,” I said, shakily stuffing my wallet, keys, and phone into my pockets. “I have to go.”

“Uh.” He gestured at the other side of the locker room, where a number of sports reporters were beginning to filter in with cameras and microphones. “What about—”

“Please.” I looked at him. “I stick around after every game. I need to bail this one time.”

He scowled but must have seen something in my eyes. Hell, everyone seemed to. The entire locker room was completely still, my team and coaches staring at me with unspoken questions.

Coach was definitely confused, but he dismissed me with a nod.

“Thanks, Coach,” I muttered. I ignored the inquisitive looks coming from everyone else. I was too busy getting the hell out of there. I still hadn’t heard from Geoff aside from that first text, and I didn’t like that at all. Maybe I was just being paranoid. He could have been on a call. Moved on with his shift. Business as usual. The All good text may have been all there was to it.

So why didn’t I believe it was?

“Sounds like the guy was a drunk idiot and took a swing at the cop. That isn’t much of a fight.”

“Blood everywhere.”

Fuck it. Call me paranoid. I wasn’t going to breathe easy until I knew for a fact that Geoff was okay.

Just outside the locker room, a couple of bored looking Seattle cops hovered around, making sure no fans tried to sneak into the locker room.

“Hey,” I said to the first. “I heard someone took a swing at a cop? Is he okay?”

The cop eyed me uncertainly.

I shifted my weight, my body thrumming with nervous energy as seconds continued going by without a status update on Geoff. “Just… Can you tell me if he went to the hospital? And which one?”