“LOGAN!” I scream his name, watching as his tall form crumples onto the ice like a rag doll. Camilla is already out of her seat, running down the steps in her heels, and I’m not far behind her. My lungs constrict and my heart pounds rapidly in my chest.
Oh my god, this is all my fault.
Logan was too busy looking at me, distracted when he saw me sitting in the stands he didn’t even see that player coming directly toward him. Number 27 was on a mission to fuck Logan up and he accomplished that when he slammed him into the boards with no mercy.
The entire arena falls silent. The other guys on Logan’s team surround Number 27, and August is off the bench, throwing his gloves onto the ice as he skates directly toward the guy, ready to fight him. The other team gets involved and it’s suddenly a full-out brawl going down on the ice.
I watch in fucking horror as Logan lies on the ice, the paramedics quickly surrounding him. The refs can’t get the players under control and some who don’t even fight are throwing fists and tossing their helmets off as it escalates and gets violent.
Camilla grabs my hand, dragging me away from the rink as we slip out into the concourse and we head toward the stairs that lead down to the locker rooms. No one bothers to question her as we push past security. They know exactly who she is and not to fuck with her. Especially when that’s her son lying on the ice.
My heart is in my throat and my stomach is at my feet. I feel so fucking helpless and so goddamn scared. Camilla pushes down the tunnel toward the ice where they’re wheeling out a stretcher. Tears are in my eyes, already falling as they stream down my face. This can’t be happening right now.
“What the hell is going on?” Camilla demands, stepping out onto the ice in her heels as they lift him on the stretcher. “Is he responsive?”
One of the paramedics shakes his head. “He’s completely unconscious but he is breathing. We need to get him to the hospital immediately.”
I press my back against the wall, giving them space as they wheel him past. One of the paramedics pulled Logan’s helmet off and his head is turned in my direction. He looks so peaceful with his eyes closed, except for the bruises and cuts that are changing colors on his face.
My beautifully broken boy…
Camilla follows after them and I walk back toward the ice, just in time as the refs finally have everyone separated. August catches sight of me at the end of the tunnel and quickly skates over.
“Don’t worry, the asshole that hit him is kicked out of the game and hopefully the rest.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes searching mine as the tears continue to stream down my cheeks.
“Isla, we have to go!” Camilla injects as she calls for me from the opposite end of the tunnel.
August frowns, his eyebrows drawn together as he stares at me with a worried look passing through his eyes. “Go with her,” he says softly, motioning for me to turn around. “Go make sure he’s okay.”
I nod, hiccuping as I hastily wipe the tears away from my face. I quickly move toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist even though he towers over me on his skates. “I love you, big brother.”
“I love you too, little sis,” he murmurs, hugging me back before he pushes me away. “Now go.”
Nodding, I quickly spin on my heel and rush down the tunnel toward Camilla. She’s already gone and I break out into a sprint as I see her walking through the concourse and toward the exit. I’m out of breath when I catch up to her. She pushes open the door, holding it open for me as we step out into the cold air.
“They said they were taking him to Samaritan Memorial Hospital. It’s only about ten minutes away, but we have to meet him there.”
“Okay,” I say softly, following her to her car. “Are you sure it’s okay if I come along with you.”
Camilla pauses as she pulls open the driver’s-side door. “Of course, sweetie. You’re like family.” She drops down into her seat and I do the same in the passenger’s seat. “I know how Logan feels about you. He called me this morning and told me everything. If anyone belongs by his side right now, I know in my heart that it’s you.”
My breath catches in my throat and my heart rattles in its cage as my chest constricts. I can feel the tears burning the corners of my eyes again and I’m a damn mess all over again. The tears fall down the sides of my face and I glance out the window as I wipe them away.
We’re both silent on the ride to the hospital, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I know Camilla went through hell when her ex-husband had his accident and I’m sure this is like living it all over again. This isn’t the first time Logan has been hurt during a game, but it’s the first time he took a hit like that and had to be taken out on a stretcher.
That’s her son—her one and only in life. I can’t imagine how she’s feeling right now, not knowing if he’s okay or what is really going on. The way his head hit the glass… the thought alone makes me cringe as a shiver slides down my spine.
He has to be okay. Everything we have can’t end like this.
Our story isn’t over yet, even if he tried to end things with me this morning. I didn’t want to accept it then, and I sure as hell don’t accept it now.
He has to be okay…
When we get to the hospital, Camilla doesn’t bother finding a parking spot. Instead, she pulls up directly out at the front of the building and marches inside. I follow after her, wishing I had half the confidence this woman does. I’m envious of the way she carries herself, like no one can touch her or tell her what she can or can’t do.
She strides to the front desk of the emergency room, her heels loud on the linoleum floor. I’m right behind her, hovering as she barks out her son’s name, demanding to know where he is and what is going on.
The polite woman at the desk tells us that the ambulance just arrived a few minutes ago and he’s in the trauma bay right now, so we aren’t allowed to go back yet. I swear Camilla is about to riot when she begins to raise her voice, demanding she speaks to someone above her.
The woman cowers and disappears as she gets her supervisor. Her supervisor comes over and Camilla explains the entire situation to her, demanding that she sees Logan or she will speak to someone on the board. Camilla is intimidating as fuck and I love it. The supervisor bends and tells her she can only allow one of us to go back.
Camilla glances at me, her eyes sad, but they’re filled with more panic than I’ve ever seen swimming in someone’s gaze. “Isla…” her voice trails off but I know what she’s going to say. Logan is her son. If anyone should be with him right now, it’s her.
“Go,” I tell her, nodding my head toward the woman who’s waiting to take Camilla to Logan. “I’ll wait to hear from you for when it’s my turn to go see him.”
Camilla pulls me in for a quick hug before she shuffles across the waiting room to the receptionist who is waiting for her. I watch them through tears as they disappear through the sliding glass doors that lead into the emergency room.
I find an empty seat along the back wall, away from most of the people waiting, and I drop my head into my hands as the tears completely consume me. A sob racks through my body and the panic sets in. I know I was more in shock when it first happened and now the reality of the situation is setting in.
They have him in the trauma bay, so that can’t be good at all. I don’t know much about medicine, but I’ve watched a few doctor drama shows in my years. I don’t think that’s the place you want to be in the hospital, but if that’s the level of care he needs, then he has to be in the right place.
A million things run through my mind. The way he hit his head, does he have some kind of head trauma? Jesus, this is too much. I don’t know if I can even take it. Without thinking, I rise to my feet and leave the waiting room, the cold evening air stings my face as I step outside and begin to pace.
I pace back and forth—back and forth. I’m losing track of time. I’m losing my mind without knowing what is going on. My feet don’t stop moving until my legs are aching and my heels feel like there are blisters forming.
Headlights flash as another car pulls up in front of the hospital, but I don’t bother letting it distract me from the thought of him. That’s the only thing my mind can focus on right now. Logan, lying back there on a hospital bed and the millions of what-ifs running through my head.
“Isla,” my brother calls out, his footsteps getting louder as he walks over to me. I lift my head from my gaze being on the ground, my eyes widening as I see him, Cam and Sawyer all walking toward me. “The other guys are on their way here too.”
A sob catches in my throat, the tears instantly filling my eyes as my heart swells for Logan’s family. All of these guys—his teammates—they’re his family. And they’re coming here to sit in the waiting room until we get some answers.
August’s face falls, and his brows draw together as he frowns. “How is he? Do you know what’s going on?”
I shake my head, swallowing roughly over the lump lodged in my throat. “Camilla went back with him after we got here. All I know is that they had him in the trauma bay. I haven’t heard anything since then.”
“Shit,” Cam mutters, walking past me as he brings a cigarette to his lips and lights the end of it. The cherry burns brightly in the night, the smoke mixing with our breaths as he exhales in a rush. “I swear to Christ, if something happens to him, I’m going to paralyze the motherfucker who did this to him.”
The scene replays again in my head and a sob breaks out from me before I can swallow it back. August is instantly in front of me, wrapping his arms around me as he pulls me in for a hug.
“He’ll be okay, Isla,” he murmurs, brushing my hair back with one of his hands. “This is Logan we’re talking about. He’s one stubborn asshole. You know he’ll make it out of this.”
Turning my head to the side, I rest my cheek on his firm chest, my tears soaking through his sweatshirt. “But what if he doesn’t?”
August doesn’t say anything and only hugs me tighter, his hand still stroking my hair like Mom always did when we needed to be comforted. I want to believe my brother, to agree with him and be positive. I want him to be right, but what if he’s wrong about this?
I need him to be okay…
Because I’m not so sure I can live in this world without him.
