a disaster. I’ve tripped over my own skates, missed passes, and been slammed into the boards more than once. We barely manage to hold on to our lead and I am definitely part of the problem.
Once the game is over, we trudge to the locker room to shower and get dressed. My body is buzzing with anxious energy, needing an update on Preston more than I need air. In the locker room, I grab my phone and check for messages.
Lily: Preston is at Providence Memorial. Dislocated Shoulder.
Lily: Uh, can you bring him a shirt? He’s freaking out because he doesn’t have one to put on.
Jeremy: Yes, I’ll be there in like 45 minutes.
I shove my phone back in my cubby and strip off my gear and base layer before hurrying toward the showers. I need to get out of here.
“Albrooke, you going to the hospital?” Carpenter asks from across the showers.
“Yes,” I holler back, turning on the water and stepping in, not caring about the temperature one bit.
Is he okay? How long will he be out? How bad is his pain? Is his dad going to freak out?
I take the fastest shower of my life, aggressively scrub my skin dry with a towel, and put my borrowed suit on. Honestly, it’s more mine at this point than Preston’s, but semantics.
Walking over to Paul and Brendon, I stop to pull up an Uber on my phone and see I have ten minutes before they’ll be here.
“Hey, either of you have an extra t-shirt or something I can take to Preston? Lily says they cut his stuff off.” I look at his cubby, and while he has a suit shirt, I’m not so sure that’s what he wants me to bring. I think a t-shirt would be better.
“Yeah, I’ve got some extra white ones, hold on.” Brendon digs in his stuff and pulls a crumpled-up t-shirt from the bottom of it. “Here.”
“Thanks,” I take it and his suit bag just in case, and head out to tell Coach I’m leaving.
“Alright, be careful and let me know if you need anything,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder.
“Will do,” I tell him and fight my way to the street to meet my Uber. Luckily, it doesn’t take me long to find the car or get away from the game day traffic.
The hospital isn’t too far away and when I roll up to the ER, I see Lily and who I assume are a few of her friends. They all look about the same age and everything about them screams money.
Lily races up to me, pushing me back outside, her face pale and panicked.
“What?” I demand. “Lily what is it? What’s wrong? Is Preston okay?”
She doesn’t speak until we’re away from the doors and over to one side alone. “We have a problem and I need you to answer me honestly.”
My stomach drops to my feet. What does she think she knows? I can’t lie to her, but I’m not telling her all Preston’s secrets either.
“Has my father been abusing Preston?” She crosses her arms over her chest and squares her shoulders.
Fuck.
“Why do you ask?” Did she see the scars? Did he say something while he was doped up on pain meds? Who else has put the pieces together?
“My friends Callie and Sara overheard two doctors talking about my father and Preston in the hallway. Something about reporting my father to the ethics board or making a report to adult protective services? I didn’t even know that was a thing. One said he was forced out of Boston because of patient complaints of sexual harassment.”
With every word that comes from her, dread settles heavier and heavier in my stomach. The blood drains from my face to pool at my feet as if she’s sliced into my heart. This will destroy him.
Lily either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because she keeps going. “They said he was talking about our father cutting him and how he wished he was given pain medication.” She stares at me, anger coloring her cheeks. “Don’t lie to me, Jeremy. What the fuck is going on?” Her arms are wrapped around herself, but I don’t know if it’s in defense or because she’s holding herself together.
“First, they cannot tell anyone what they heard. No one. Second, I don’t have many details.” I say. Lily drops her gaze, looking at the concrete under our shoes, obviously uncomfortable. “What?”
She won’t look at me. “They were doing a Facebook live and it’s on there.”
“What?!” Spinning around and racing for the ER entrance once again with Lily on my heels, I find the girls and walk right up to them. Fury and frustration and fear fighting with me. I have to protect Preston.
“Hey, delete that video. Right now. Get it off social media.” I demand, one girl with curly red hair looks up at me with wide eyes and reaches for her phone. “You can’t talk about this to anyone, do you understand?”
She looks down at her phone, getting into her Facebook account and finding the video.
“Deleted. It’s gone.” She looks up at me. “I’m sorry.”
I scrub a hand down my face as the unknown future and all the possible what ifs bombard me. Do I tell him now or wait and see if something comes from it? My hands are shaking, and my stomach is twisted in knots, it hurts to breathe. Fuck. I can’t protect him if this gets out. What will his dad do?
“You didn’t tag him in it, right?”
She shakes her head quickly. That’s something at least. I run my fingers through my still wet hair and pull on the ends.
“I’m going to see if I can go back and see him,” I tell Lily and head to check in. A woman in scrubs looks up at me with a smile.
“How can I help you?” she asks.
“Can I go back and check on my friend? Preston Carmichael is his name. He was brought in by ambulance.”
She chuckles, “Are you Jeremy?”
“Yes ma’am, I am.” Why does she know my name?
“Come on back.” She points to the door to the left. “Through that door then at the nurses’ station, he’ll be right next to you.”
Relief almost has my knees giving out as I head to the door. The hallway opens to a room with a nurses’ station in the middle and a bunch of curtained off spaces set up around the edge of the room. I turn to the first bed on my right and step close to the curtain.
“While you were sedated, you said some things that are concerning.” A feminine voice comes from behind the curtain.
“What did I say?” That’s Preston’s voice and he does not sound happy.
“You said that your dad cut you.” My heart sinks at her answer. “Is that what all these scars are?” Her voice is full of concern and compassion, but I guarantee he hears pity. I don’t know how to help him and this feeling of being helpless makes me twitchy.
I can almost imagine the blank expression on his face. He’s shutting down and I don’t need to see him to know it. Maybe being with him will help?
“Preston?” My tone is hesitant in case I’m not in the right place.
“Just a second,” The female voice calls to me.
“Jeremy?” Preston’s voice is a punch to the stomach. He’s not closed off and cold right now, but scared and needy.
I reach for the curtain but a brown-haired woman in scrubs and big black glasses pulls it back a little.
“Are you Jeremy?” she asks me, taking in the suit I’m wearing and the garment bag over my arm.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Come on in.” She holds the curtain open for me. “He’s been asking for you.”
Preston is sitting up on a bed wearing a hospital gown and hockey pants with his skates still on. His left arm is in a sling over his chest and there’s an IV in his other arm, but he looks okay. He’s awake.
“Hey.” His smile is tight, forced. Like he thinks I expect him to smile but he’s not at all feeling it.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” I stand awkwardly next to the bed as the nurse leaves.
Preston pats the bed on his right side and I put the garment bag down then sit, relieved he wants me close. His good hand reaches for my shirt and pulls me toward him, pressing his lips against mine.
“I want out of here,” he says against my mouth.
“How much longer do you have to be here?” I hope he can’t see that I’m holding shit back from him. He doesn’t need to worry about what could be happening on social media right now, but guilt is eating at me for not telling him already. “You should tell her.”
His eyes snap to mine and his shoulders immediately tense. “What? Why?”
“Because what he’s been doing isn’t okay and she might be able to help you.” What part of that does he not understand?
“Lily turns eighteen in a few months. Nothing is going to happen to him before that. And even if charges are pressed against him, I have zero proof. Who’s to say I didn’t do this myself to frame him? Not to mention, that leaves Lily vulnerable to him.”
The curtain is pulled back and we both look to see Assistant Coach Scott looking between us. Preston’s hand drops my shirt and I scoot back a little to put some space between us.
Scott closes the curtain again and turns to us. “Look, guys, I don’t care if you’re more than teammates as long as it doesn’t affect you negatively on the ice. Got it?”
A breath I didn’t realize I was holding comes out in a rush. Preston says nothing, his walls are back up. He puts his hand on the bed but I reach for it and run my thumb over his inner wrist, surprised when he doesn’t pull away from me. Scott’s phone rings and he leaves the area to take the call, once again giving us a moment of privacy.
My phone rings in my pocket so I pull it out, anxiety already spiking at the possibility that someone saw that fucking video, but I smile at my mom’s picture. Answering the phone, I turn my body to get Preston in the background.
“He’ll live, promise!”
“Oh, thank God! What happened? Is that a sling?” Mom asks, with Grandma behind her.
“Dislocated shoulder,” Preston says. “I’ll be back on the ice in a few weeks.”
“Good, good. We just wanted to check in. Call me when you get home.”
“Will do, thanks Mom.” I smile at her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Albrooke, and Grandma,” Preston says behind me, lifting his hand in a wave before I end the call.
Sliding my phone back in my pocket, I watch my finger drag along his inner wrist.
“Say it.” Preston’s voice makes me flinch. He’s waiting for bad news and it hurts my heart. “Whatever it is, out with it.”
“Lily knows your dad has been abusing you.”
The air in the room has been sucked out. The tension in the air is so thick I can feel it pressing in on me like a physical weight.
“How?” The word is so quiet I almost didn’t hear it over the bustle of the ER.
Closing my eyes, I inhale a deep breath and release it before meeting his gaze. “The friends she came with overheard a couple of doctors talking about you and him. They were doing a Facebook live and got it on video.” Preston’s breathing increases and fear widens his eyes so I hurry with the next part. “I told them to delete it and not talk to anyone else about it, but Lily has questions.” The lost little boy look on his face breaks me. This moment will forever be seared into my brain. His carefully concealed world is crumbling and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Just sit and watch it happen, then pick up the pieces of him when it’s over.
The nurse comes back in with paperwork in her hand, followed by Coach Scott.
“Listen, that shoulder is going to be wonky for a while, until the muscles around it recover. Do not use that arm more than absolutely necessary.” She gives Preston a pointed look. “Keep your arm against your body while you shower, get dressed and put the sling back on. I’m not kidding, you can dislocate it again very easily right now.”
Preston nods at her, taking her directions seriously. Or at least pretending to.
“Excuse me,” she says to me, so I get up and move to stand next to Scott. She removes the IV from Preston’s arm, wraps a piece of gauze with the tan, stretchy sticky tape crap, and tells him he can get dressed. Preston doesn’t flinch when she touches him. That’s interesting.
He eyes Scott, not wanting to expose himself to the man, and I clear my throat.
“I’ll help him get dressed and we’ll meet you in the waiting room.”
Thankfully, Scott takes the hint and fucks off to give Preston some privacy. Opening the garment bag, I pull out the t-shirt and help Preston get his good arm and head through it, pulling the fabric down over his slinged arm. Moving to his skates, I get them off, help him stand, and he leans on my shoulder while I pull his gear and pants off. Does he need it all off right now? No, but he’ll be more comfortable in regular clothes.
“You trust her,” I say as I pull his base layer down his legs. “The nurse.”
“She seems like a good person, doesn’t take shit from anyone, straight forward.” Preston steps out of all his stuff and I get him dressed again, pulling underwear and pants up. He tucks his dick in the way he wants it situated and lifts an eyebrow at me when I smirk at him.
“I could have done that for you.” I bite at my lower lip.
The unamused expression he aims at me makes me laugh.
I button and zip his suit pants and he sits back down so I can pull on his socks and shoes so we can get out of here.
In the waiting room, Lily is pissed, while Scott is leaning against the wall reading through the discharge paperwork. There’s an older man standing beside Lily, talking quietly to her and her friends.
Preston walks over to talk to Lily, so I follow. The door behind us opens and the nurse pokes her head out. She nods at me and waves me over.
“I forgot something in the room, I’ll be right back,” I tell Preston and head over.
“Follow me,” she says and walks me into what looks like an exam room with a door. “Being completely honest here, I’m worried about him. What’s the deal with the scars? They aren’t in the normal places where we find self-harm scars.”
My chest tightens and I fight a war within myself. I want to help him, but it’s not my fucking story.
“He didn’t do them himself.” I can’t meet her eyes. My head tells me to spill it all to her, but my gut tells me it’ll be worse if she knows.
“Listen, I can tell he doesn’t want help right now, but if he changes his mind, call me and I will help him.” She hands me a white business card with a phone number scrawled on one side, the other side is for the social worker in the hospital. “They will be happy to help too if he decides he wants it. I also highly recommend therapy if what he’s been through is anything like I’m thinking.”
All I can do is nod at her, the lump in my throat too big to speak around.
By the time we get back to the hotel, Preston is agitated and ready to start rampaging.
“Lily, you aren’t going to that damn game!” he snaps into his phone. “I’m not even playing, what’s the fucking point?”
I can hear her yell back at him but not what is said. While I realize this is a family matter, he’s not doing himself any favors. He’s pacing the length of our hotel room, getting more and more tense when he really should be resting.
I can’t take it anymore. Standing from the bed, I step directly into his path and won’t let him go around me.
Preston lifts his lip at me, his gaze promising pain if I don’t back off. Luckily for me, I’m not intimidated by him.
“Let me talk to her.” I put my hand out for the phone and he looks at me like I just slapped him. “She’s digging in her heels because you’re demanding shit from her. Let me talk to her.”
“Lillian, you are not going to that damn game. Do you understand me?” he barks through clenched teeth.
With a sigh, I snatch the phone from him and run for the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
“Good evening, Lily.” I say cheerfully as Preston pounds on the door.
“I swear to God, Jeremy. I don’t know how you don’t smother him in his sleep!” she huffs out in frustration.
I shrug even though she can’t see it. “Listen, I know you and your friends came down here to watch the games. I know Preston is secretly very happy to see you, though it’s probably very deeply buried at this point.” I lean against the door in an attempt to counter his banging so the door doesn’t break.
“He’s a caveman! Just because he’s my older brother, it doesn’t give him the right to tell me what to do!” she yells.
“I agree. He’s not handling this well. At all.” The pounding on the door stops, which makes me nervous. “But can you do me a favor?”
“What?” She’s suspicious, which I can’t blame her for.
“Can you not go to the game tomorrow, please?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth she starts to argue. “I know, I know. You came all this way, I get it. But, I think Preston is worried about your safety. If the wrong person saw that video and spreads the word, it could go viral and you could be hounded by reporters. Which he will feel responsible for, especially since he can’t do anything to help you.”
She sighs, but is not happy about this at all. “That makes sense, but he’s still an asshole!”
“Oh, one hundred precent,” I agree and she giggles. “But he’s an overly protective asshole and he’s nervous right now.”
“Uck. Why do you have to be so logical?” She huffs. “Fine, we’ll head back to school in the morning.”
“Thank you, I truly appreciate it.”
“Whatever. Enjoy your night with that jackass.” She hangs up and I turn back to the door, eyeing it warily. What am I going to find on the other side? Even injured, my man is freakishly strong.
Taking a deep breath and hoping for the best, I open the door. Preston shoves it open and grabs my throat, forcing me back against the wall on the other side of the bathroom. I trip over my feet but manage to stay up by sheer force of will. The last thing I want is to fall and cause him more pain.
My head hits the wall with a thud and I stare up into the furious, almost black eyes of my boyfriend.
“You’re welcome.” I tell him calmly, holding up his phone before shoving it into his pants pocket. “She’s heading home in the morning.”
His grip on my throat tightens and he uses every centimeter of his height to try and intimidate me. I am very careful to keep my expression neutral.
“You had no right to come between me and my sister.” His tone is ice cold and full of menace.
“She was digging in her heels and wasn’t going to budge to your demands. All I did was ask her nicely.”
One of his eyes twitches as he glares at me. He wants to fuck me up, I can see it clear as day on his face and in his body language. The need to dominate, claim, and cause destruction is strong. But he says nothing.
After a minute of staring at me and breathing heavily, I reach for his shirt and pull it up, uncovering his bad arm and sling, and bring it over his head to hang from the arm he’s using to pin me against the wall. Confusion is creasing his eyebrows as they pinch together when I open his pants and shove his clothes down his legs. Since I can’t help him step out of his shoes or pants, I start pulling my own suit off. Unbuttoning the shirt and dropping it on the floor, my shoes, socks, pants, and underwear quickly following, all while I keep my gaze locked on his.
When I’m bare to him and he’s mostly naked, I pull him against me.
“You should shower,” I say in the same calm fashion. “Let me help you.”
