Page 37 of The Other Side of Wild
We jump up, hands thrown in the air as they skate back to the bench after clinching the first goal of the night. They high-five the team down the line as they climb back onto the bench, “fan-freaking-tastic play guys,” Coach calls from his spot towards the end. He’s not wrong, it was beautiful.
The second period is in full swing. The Cascades have continued to play dirty, and the refs are insistent on letting it slide. I’ve been in their faces more than once, usually ending in Reed pulling me away by my collar. He’s the only one who can challenge a call as the captain, but even he’s pissed off. And he’s never pissed off. Coach calls our line, Reed, Monroe, and I take off towards the other end of the rink.
Monroe gets possession of the puck, and I see his line of sight; I rush over to the opposite side of the goal as he sends it into the boards, rounding the back of the net. There’s a banging on the glass right behind me, distracting me from the game. My head lifts, and then my eyes lock with ones I never wanted to see again.
Except she’s got a baby girl on her hip who is holding a sign that reads “Go Daddy! We love you ?” on it. My stomach drops to my feet, the game is long forgotten, and I can’t think straight. My entire body feels like it’s sinking I quicksand; I’m frozen to the spot I’m in. I'm so disoriented with this development that I barely register the “She’s mine!” Coming from an all too familiar voice behind me before I’m plowed headfirst into the boards. The last thing I register is the pain in my shoulder before I hit the ice, and everything goes black.
Chapter 19 – Hannah
There’s ice running through my veins; my body feels like it’s been filled with lead. I don’t think I’m breathing. Tears run down my face, hot against the cold that has taken over. My body is shaking like a leaf. I hear Abby’s voice, but I can’t tell you anything she’s saying; it’s nothing but static in the background.
All I see is Greyson. His body lying flat on the ice, motionless. My eyes are glued to the screen, willing him to get up, to move, to dosomethingto let me and the rest of the world know he’s okay. But he doesn’t.
Get up, Greyson.
Please, please get up.
Come on, Bulldozer.
The plea ran through my mind like a broken record.
Abby stops in front of me and grabs my shoulders, giving them a good shake. “Hannah! You need to take a breath.” If that didn’t snap me out of it, the paws that knock me over on my butt surely do. Now sitting on the floor, Harley is licking the tears off my face while letting me run my hand down her back. The motion brings me back to the present.
Part of me wants to jump through the screen and make sure he’s okay. Seeing him get hit from behind, his helmet bouncing off the glass before he fell, and didn’t move at all. I’ve never been so scared. I watch as they get him off the ice. He’s conscious and able to skate off, but he’s cradling his arm, face etched in pain.
I want to scream. I want tobe therefor him. Make sure he’s okay, hold his hand, and let him know he’s not alone. Instead, I sit here frozen, helpless. I hate it.
The image replays through my unfortunately,very vivid mind. The way he froze before he was slammed into the board, head bouncing off the glass, snapping back before he crumpled to the ground. Those seconds of no movement felt like a lifetime spent hoping and praying for the smallest sign. It’s a sharp, unrelenting nightmare. I can’t imagine how he and his family are feeling.
My phone rings from somewhere, making me jump. Abby grabs it, answering as she walks back toward me; she puts it on speaker as she sits down on the floor next to me. “Hannah?”
It's Mr. Wilder; his voice is tight, like he’s trying to keep himself from punching someone or something. “Mr. Wilder, is he okay?” Abby’s hand is now running the length of my spine in slow, comforting strokes.
“I...” He blows out a breath and is silent for a beat. “I don’t know. They got him off the ice, but he was screaming that he couldn’t move his shoulder. Amy went with him in the ambulance to the hospital, Tate and I are in the car on our way there.”
“I’m so sorry; I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now.” I have no words. It was terrifying from here; I can’t imagine being there to witness it live.
Mr. Wilder sighs. “Keep him in your prayers, Hannah; if he blew out his shoulder, he’s more than likely out for the rest of the season.”
Abby and I gasp in unison, “The team doctor will have any scans and medical records sent over to us. I’ll take a look at them as soon as I get them and start working on a therapy plan.”
“Thanks, Abby. He’s lucky to have such dedicated medical staff.”
“Can you hold on for just a second?” There’s a door closing, and Tatum’s shaky voice is in the background before the only sound you can hear is breathing. Abby gets up and walks towards her room, leaving me to finish this conversation.
“Sure.” I’m met with silence before the voice on the other end changes, and I realize I've been handed off from Mr. Wilder to Tatum.
“There’s a reason I was so closed off to you; she’s it.” I bite my lip, wracking my brain searching for what he could be referring to.
“I don’t understand... Wha–?”
“You didn’t see the sign behind him when he got hit, did you?” I don’t respond because I don’t have any idea what he’s talking about. “Of course you didn’t.”
“I just saw him go down; I didn’t see anything other than him.” My voice breaks on the tail end, the tears falling all over again.
“His ex-girlfriend was holding a sign that said, ‘Go Daddy! We love you.’ She’s holding a little girl who couldn’t be more than one. That’s why he froze. I don’t know anything about it, but I’m going to find out.”
It's like my body has been thrown overboard in the waters of Antarctica. Everything seizes; I'm fairly certain I'm not even breathing. Not because I thought he was keeping things from me but because he could have a whole family he didn’t even know about. He could possibly have everything he’s been wanting but with someone else.