“I just needed a break after the funeral,” I explain, giving the story Dax and I agreed on. “I’m actually staying with Lance’s best friend, Dax.”
“Is he a hockey player?” she teases.
“Yes, he is,” I return with a giggle.
“He’s probably a little too young for me,” Mary sniffs, which I don’t think is the case. She’s only thirty-five and incredibly pretty. But she has two teenage daughters. For some reason, she thinks that makes herself undatable.
“He’s not too young for you,” I chide, this not being the first time I’ve heard her ‘woe is me trying to date as a single mom’ story. “You’re a totally marketable hot chick who needs to get yourself out there. But sadly, this hockey player is off the market.”
“Bummer,” she drawls, and I don’t tell her that Dax is off the market because he’s married to me. That would be way too crazy. It’s just… why bother when they live on opposite sides of the country?
“But seriously,” she continues, ignoring my jab that she’s selling herself short. “How are you doing?”
“I’m doing well. Haven’t had any major symptoms—”
“No,” she butts in impatiently. “How are you doing emotionally? Not physically.”
I can’t help but snort. “Aren’t you supposed to be worried about my physical health?”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
I sigh as I stare out the kitchen window. “I feel sad and alone. I thought coming to Phoenix and being around Dax would help, but I don’t know…”
My words trail off. It’s not lost on me that a lot of my turmoil right now has to do with the fact I had a beautiful, intimate experience with Dax last night, yet he wants no part in a continuation. That’s pretty much where my loneliness is stemming from.
Pure rejection.
Mary launches into a thousand comforting words about grief and healing. I listen because I know they’ll be beneficial to me. When she winds down, she lets me know Dr. Marino has signed all the necessary paperwork for my new insurance company to approve the Salvistis.
“Now just so you know, it doesn’t mean they’re going to approve it just because Dr. Marino has signed all the paperwork.”
“I know. I expect most insurance companies are going to balk at paying that kind of money for a drug.”
“If they deny it, Dr. Marino is ready to step in on the appeal process. Just know it could take a little bit of time. So we need you to keep careful watch on yourself, Regan. You know the signs and symptoms to look for, so get your butt to a hospital if you suspect you need a transfusion.”
With a resigned sigh, I say, “I understand. And I’ll be careful. I promise.”
I hate being back in this situation. Over the past year, I’ve become so reliant on the Salvistis that I had forgotten the day-to-day terror of knowing I could be one thrown blood clot away from dying. If I don’t get my treatment next week as planned, I’m going to be right back in that same situation.
CHAPTER 11
Dax
“What the fuck, dude?” Bishop says as I miss the rack and almost drop three hundred and fifteen pounds onto my chest. Bishop grabs the bar and helps me get it over the lip, then I roll off the bench. “Where’s your head at?”
I shake it, feeling it attached at the neck, but I sure as shit wasn’t concentrating the way I should while pressing that load.
“I’m good,” I mutter.
“Worried about Tacker?” he asks as he takes my spot on the bench. We’re both doing the same weight, working a load of five by five.
I move in behind him. Although it’s not where my thoughts were just now—as they were on Regan—I admit, “Yeah. But I think if anyone can help him get through this, it’s this team. We’ve already proven we’ve got some kind of magical mojo together on the ice.”
Even though we’re a brand-new expansion team in the league, we’re currently favored to take the Cup away from the Cold Fury this year. We’ve just clicked that well together.
“Truer words,” Bishop says before he pushes the weighted bar up and off the rack to start his set. I stand at the ready in case he needs help, but he won’t.
“I’m going to invite him over to dinner one night after Willow gets here.” Bishop easily finishes his set, re-racks with no fumbling issues, and rolls off the bench. “If anyone can force Tacker to interact, it’s her.”
“I don’t know,” Bishop drawls with a laugh as I straddle the bench. “Your sister can be so irritating. She might push him over the edge.”
I laugh because that’s true. Willow has never met a stranger. She will start up a conversation with Tacker, totally missing any anti-social cues from him. “At least Regan will temper her somewhat.”
“How is Regan doing?” Bishop asks as I start to lay back on the bench. I’d like to tell him she’s doing wonderfully, but I just don’t know. Ever since our “heart-to-heart” talk yesterday morning, we seemed to have lapsed into a familial-type friendship. Conversation is easy and light. There’s laughter. No awkwardness.
Unless I counted the fact my dick gets hard when I’m around her sometimes, I can’t stop thinking about the night we were together, or that I jacked off in bed last night thinking about the way she tasted, or…
“Bro… you gonna lift or what?” Bishop asks. I startle, focusing on him to find him staring at me over the bar.
“Yeah,” I mumble, getting my grip set. Then I think about the man who is hovering over the bar, there to help me in case I falter, and I remember Bishop is my best friend. It’s fucking moronic not to get his advice, since I’m clearly out of sorts over Regan. Legend had been working out with us, but he doesn’t stay as long as we do, having baby duties and such. The gym is nearly deserted. It’s the perfect opportunity to get this shit off my chest.
I release the bar and roll off the bench, immediately launching into my story as I turn to face Bishop. “So… well, I sort of did a thing.”
Bishop just stares in confusion. “A thing?”
“A big thing.”
“What kind of big thing?”
“I got married,” I blurt out. Bishop’s eyebrows shoot so high they disappear under his hairline.
“You got married?” he asks slowly, as if he’s missing out on the joke.
“To Regan,” I clarify.
“Lance’s sister?”
“Only Regan I know.”
“Jesus Christ.” Bishop sighs, then takes a seat on the bench I’d just vacated. “Start at the beginning. I’m way too lost.”
So I do. Pacing back and forth before him, I recount the shortest engagement ever. I inform him about Regan’s disease, taking the time to explain what that means. His expression goes from exasperated I’d do something so foolish to gravely concerned when I tell him about the Salvistis and how expensive it is. By the end, he’s nodding along with me, agreeing I hadn’t a choice but to marry her to get her on my insurance.
“You did the right thing,” he says encouragingly. “I’m sure Regan is grateful.”
Shaking my head, I grimace. “I sort of did something else.”
“What?” he asks, the approving smile sliding off his face.
“I slept with her,” I admit.
“You stupid motherfucker,” he says slowly, but that’s not unexpected or offensive to me. It’s totally legit.
“See, but here’s the thing,” I continue, getting to the crux of what’s bothering me. “It was fucking amazing, Bishop. I mean… she’s like no woman I’ve ever been with, and I have no clue why. And I can’t figure out if what we did was right or wrong. I can’t stop thinking about it. Obsessing, actually. But she’s sort of moved on, I think. I mean, she acts like we’re just friends and like it wasn’t that big a deal, but trust me when I tell you… I feel like a big fucking girl right now admitting it to you, but it was a big deal.”
“God, you’re fucking screwed, Dax,” Bishop mutters as he stands.
“That’s it? That’s your adv
ice?” I ask incredulously.
“No, my advice is to talk to her about it. Clearly she means something important to you—”
“She did before we fucked,” I growl. “Yes, she’s important and there’s a long-standing love and care there. But I’m talking about sex, Bishop. I’m talking about something different.”
“I think it’s different,” he says with a sage and pointed look, “because there was already love and care there.”
His words hit me with the force of a nuclear explosion, and my entire body rebels at the thought. I’m not ready for that type of “love” in my life. I’m still young and want to be free. I want to have fun and not be committed. That type of love and sex mixed together is a recipe for a relationship that is beyond what I want right now.
I start to tell him that, too, but his phone rings, which is sitting on the floor next to our towels. Legend’s face is on the screen.
Bishop bends, nabs the phone, and answers, “What’s up?”
I stand there, impatiently waiting for him to finish his call with Legend so we can get back to what’s important. Me and my lust for Regan, or whatever it is I have.
But the expression on Bishop’s face turns to horror, his skin going pale. All of my senses fire and my stomach rolls.
My immediate thoughts are of Tacker. Now, my impatience is waiting to hear what the terrible news is.
Bishop doesn’t say anything to enlighten me. He ends the short call with, “I’m on my way to your place now.”
When he disconnects and turns to me, I’m not prepared for his shocking words. “Lida shot Pepper and took Charlie.”
“What?” I bark out, my head actually spinning. Lida is Charlie’s birth mom and has been doing some crazy stalkerish stuff, but I never expected this. “Is Pepper okay?”
“Legend doesn’t know,” he says with a short shake of his head as he hurries to the locker room. I follow while he fills me in on the pitifully short details. “He’s at his house right now with the police, and Pepper’s on her way to the hospital by ambulance.”
“Jesus,” I curse as we scramble to get into our lockers.
Bishop pauses. “I think we need to organize a search party.”
“Come again?” I ask, beyond puzzled. “I’m sure the police—”
“Yeah, I know they’ll be out looking for her,” he interrupts. “I’m sure with the idea in mind she’s running with Charlie. But fuck, Dax… she shot Pepper. Legend said she also pistol-whipped Lucy, the nanny. What if…”
Bishop’s voice falters, and he gives a cough to clear it. Leaning in, he whispers, “What if that crazy bitch did something to Charlie? I mean… she’s fucking crazy, right?”
“You think we need to be searching for Charlie?” I ask slowly, because although I understand exactly what he’s saying, I absolutely don’t want to consider it as a possibility.
Bishop rubs at his head. “I don’t know, but this is going to be leaked to the news fast. I’m confident we’re having no team practice today. I’m going to Legend’s, so he has someone with him. I think you need to rally the team together, then get out there and start searching. The more eyes, the better.”
A jolt of adrenaline zings through my body. “Yeah… got it. Can totally do that. And I know exactly who to recruit to help me get it going.”
If I thought I wasn’t prepared to hear the news about Lida shooting Pepper and kidnapping Charlie, I am most certainly not prepared for the haunted man who stands before us when Tacker opens the door to his apartment. It’s only been a few days since his accident, but he looks like he’s lost fifteen pounds. Or maybe that’s just because he’s shaved his entire head down to a mere stubbly buzz, which makes his cheekbones stand out gauntly.
His left arm is in a short cast, and he has scrapes and scabs all over his face from the air bag. Both eyes have a little bruising under them, and there’s a cut across the bridge of his nose.
Tacker doesn’t offer any greeting, just stares at me blankly. I survey the shabby apartment complex he lives in, which is shocking given the amount of money he makes. Clearly, he doesn’t care about spending it.
“Team needs your help,” I say, just to gauge his reaction to the word “team” because I’m not sure if he ever really felt he was a part of us. He’s kept us all at such a distance, and he hasn’t asked any of us for help over the course of the last several months since the season started.
And let’s face it… technically, he’s not part of the team. Coach told us the day after the accident that he was indefinitely suspended, and no one has heard any follow up as of yet.
“How so?” Tacker asks neutrally, not even bothering to invite me into his place.
“Lida shot Pepper and kidnapped Charlie,” I say bluntly. The guy has had it rough, but there’s no time to spare him.
His eyes bug out of his head. “What?”
“Pepper is at the hospital. The police are out searching for Lida and Charlie, but the team is all out canvassing the area, too. And I figured you’d want to be in on it.”
What I’m implying without actually saying is Tacker is unable to actually go out and look by himself as he is currently without a vehicle and has a pending DUI charge. Not to mention the whole broken wrist and concussion thing.
But I judged my teammate correctly, since he nods vigorously. “Yeah… of course. Let me grab my wallet and phone.”
He’s not gone but a minute before he returns, locking his apartment door behind him. As he follows me, he asks, “How is Pepper?”
“I haven’t heard yet. Last info I had was Legend was heading to the hospital, so I expect we’ll get an update soon. Bishop is going to start a group text.”
After I unlock my car and we get belted, Tacker twists in his seat to face me. “Do you think Charlie is okay?”
Just last month, Legend had invited Tacker and me to spend Christmas Eve with him and Charlie. Not much gets our big, silent, and brooding captain out of his shell, but he bonded with Charlie. Spent a good portion of the night holding her, and it was the most hopeful I’d ever been about the man.
Or at least I had been…
Until he drove his truck into a concrete barricade.
But I can see the angst in his expression. Recognize it deeply. I’m terrified Pepper might die and Charlie—
Nope… can’t think like that. I’m afraid I’ll vomit. “I think,” I say carefully, “that Lida is a mom first and foremost. Despite the fact she’s done some crazy stuff, all she’s wanted since she reappeared in Legend’s life was to have time with her daughter. I have got to believe that means something. That Charlie is at least safe with her.”
Tacker swallows hard, then gives me a curt nod. “Then let’s get going. Sooner we get out there, sooner we can find her.”
“I want to go walk around Legend’s neighborhood,” I say. “If she doesn’t have a car, she could just be hiding somewhere there.”
“Sounds good,” he replies as I start my car.
It’s a twenty-minute drive over to Legend’s neighborhood, and I don’t want any of the time Tacker is my captivated audience to be wasted. At our team meeting yesterday, the entire team discussed how it was going to be a major group effort to get Tacker’s head back on straight. We all committed to it. After the meeting, Bishop, Erik, Legend, and I talked about it some more. So far, we’d seen Tacker react positively to people who needed care or protection. Specifically, he’s developed a pretty good bond with Blue’s brother, who is disabled, and, as mentioned, with baby Charlie. It was a no brainer we’d exploit that angle.
But we’d also discussed just pressing interaction on him whether he wanted it or not. He was going to be getting a lot of pressure from all of us, and my gut said it would be a battle.
So now… while he’s strapped into my passenger seat, I’m going to take advantage of the situation.
“Coach told the team you’d been indefinitely suspended.” I give him a quick glance, noting his face is as stoic and expressionl
ess as ever. “And that you got charged with a DUI.”
I wait for him to respond, but he doesn’t.
“So…,” I drawl, indicating he should say something.
He turns his head my way, and I flick my gaze from the road to him. His voice is dry and taunting. “Was there a question in there somewhere?”
Okay, he wants to play it that way?
I’m diving in.
“How do you feel about it?” I ask.
Tacker snorts in response. “I feel shitty, that’s how I feel.”
“Care to elaborate?” I press.
I get an exaggerated sigh in return and an apathetic tone. “What the fuck do you want me to say, Dax?”
It pisses me off. “I want you to acknowledge you’re going to try to overcome this shit because we’re all worried sick about you. I want you to say you’re going to work hard to get through your issues, get your head on straight, and come back to this team because we need you. That’s what I want you to say.”
“Yeah?” Tacker says with a mirthless laugh. “Well, if I ever figure out what the fuck I want in life and I decide it falls in line with what you want, I’ll let you know.”
He’s being a dick, and there’s no sense in pushing him on it. Besides, it wasn’t my goal to have him miraculously decide to care about things again.
I merely wanted him to know I cared, and I think I accomplished that.
CHAPTER 12
Dax
It’s not even seven and I’m exhausted. I pull into my driveway, stopping just short of the single car garage where Regan’s car is parked. My shoulders are knotted from the tension of the day, and I’m going to be glad to eat a frozen meal and head to bed.
Granted, the day started off about as bad as it could with the news Pepper had been shot and Charlie kidnapped, but it had ended with the best possible outcome. Lida had been captured just a few hours after she took Charlie. But, most importantly, Legend’s baby daughter was safe and unhurt. Pepper had come through her abdominal surgery. Luckily, the bullet caused no major damage, although she’ll be in the hospital for a few days recovering.
Dax Page 8
