Jagged Edges

by Denise Bower

  The guys filed out of the waiting room, heading for the stairs and elevators. I didn’t know whether to follow or return to my seat until Johan pulled me aside.

  “Vika, I hate to ask you this, but do you think you can stay with Carter? He won’t be discharged until tomorrow and we need to leave for the next game. Obviously Carter isn’t going to play on this road trip. Hank will leave his car for you.”

  I nodded.

  “You don’t have to stay here tonight,” Johan said.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m not leaving him,” I said firmly.

  “Okay, if you’re sure,” he said.

  “I’m positive.”

  As soon as everyone cleared out, I was left in an empty waiting room with nothing to do but stare at the walls. The stiff chairs with scratchy upholstery made it impossible to get comfortable and my brain supplied me with images of what could have happened to Carter.

  I sat on the floor, crossed my legs, and took several deep breaths, desperately hoping to settle my mind. My muscles felt tight and unbending. I finally gave up and laid flat on my back, staring up at the fluorescent lights.

  “Are you Victoria?” a nurse asked.

  “Yes.” I sat up so quickly my head spun.

  “He keeps asking for you. He’s becoming quite agitated.”

  “Sorry,” I murmured as I scrambled to my feet, jogging to catch up with her.

  “I think he’s just scared. A familiar face will calm him down,” she said.

  I wanted to ask her questions about his condition, but I knew she wouldn’t be able to answer me. It was slightly shocking that the hospital was allowing me in his room. Maybe they had different rules for big shot athletes. Or maybe Johan had told them to do whatever it took to keep Carter from leaving.

  “In here.” She gestured to a doorway.

  I hesitated for a few seconds until she smiled and gently laid her hand on my forearm. “It’s okay.” She pointed to a recliner positioned close to his bed. “I’ll bring you a blanket.”

  “Thanks,” I said as she left the room. I took a few unsteady steps toward Carter’s bed, unsure what he expected of me. I poked his shoulder. “Hey, the nurse said you’re being a pain in the ass.”

  He mumbled a long sentence, but all I understood were the words, “Stay with me.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Nah, never wanted any of ’em to stay before,” he murmured before drifting off to sleep.

  I stood by his bed, listening to the whir of the machines and counting his breaths. I wanted him to open his eyes and flash his baby blues at me, to argue about something stupid, or complain about the Shelby.

  The nurse returned and handed me a blanket, then checked Carter and made some notes on his chart. I climbed into the chair and pulled the blanket up to my chin.

  “You should try to get some rest,” she said to me.

  Easier said than done. Nurses appeared every hour to check his vitals, interrupting my sleep. I kept thinking if I wasn’t awake, something would happen and they’d whisk him away. I wasn’t able to relax until the nurse would pat his hand, make a note on his chart, and leave the room.

  By the morning, I could barely keep my eyes open, and I didn’t have a clue how I was going to drive back to Ritchfield. When the doctor entered the room, I excused myself to go find some coffee. As I gripped the Styrofoam cup, I spotted a familiar person fighting with the vending machine.

  “Dad? What are you doing here?”

  “Checking on my player,” he said. “You look like hell.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “As soon as Carter is discharged, he needs to go to the police station. They want to know if he remembers anything.”

  I rubbed my eyes and cleared my throat. “The bar was packed. Cameron told me some people were taken in for questioning. I’ve seen a few of them before at the arena in Ritchfield, and Alex said something about fans waiting for Carter after practice.

  “I knew Carter was having issues with some female fans. Management was looking into it. We didn’t think it would come to this.”

  “We don’t know what this is, Dad.”

  “I know.”

  He poured himself a cup of coffee and grimaced when he took a sip. “This is awful.”

  I shrugged and continued drinking.

  “How is he doing?” he asked.

  “They said he was going to be okay.”

  “I heard he scored a hat trick.”

  “Dad, I’m not having this conversation with you. I’m not Carter’s shrink or his coach. I don’t know why he’s not performing for the Hawks. He looked great out there last night. I’m not really sure what you expect to accomplish by having him here.”

  The silence that followed was excruciating.

  “It’s a shame to waste such talent,” he said.

  “Are you talking about me or him?”

  “The league is allowing us to extend his conditioning stint beyond the regular fourteen day period.”

  I sucked in a quick breath. I knew his stay here would be limited, but I’d never asked exactly how long it would be. I sat down and focused on my coffee cup and resisted the urge to count down the days. My father occupied his time with his phone, answering several calls that came through.

  By the time Carter was released, I’d had four cups of coffee and was ready to get out of town and away from my father. Even if I had to walk.

  “Have you been on the ice?” he asked.

  “I’m on the ice every day, Dad.”

  “In figure skates?”

  “Only a few times, but that’s because I’m helping coach a kid. Sawyer Jones is staying with me, and he’s opening a skating academy at the arena.”

  “I thought I heard something about a skating school. Carter⁠—”

  “Hey, Coach. What are you doing here? I barely know what I’m doing here.”

  When I turned my head and caught sight of Carter, a small gasp escaped my lips. His eyes were bright, his cheeks had a slight flush, and his hair was mussed perfectly, curling at the ends. I wanted to rush into his arms and welcome him back to the land of the living.

  “Checking on you,” my dad said, oblivious to my sudden attraction.

  “Well, here I am,” he said. He leaned so close to me that when he whispered, his breath skated across my neck. “Can we get out of here?”

  My heart pounded so loud I was sure my dad could hear it.

  “Are we free to go?” I asked my dad. “It’s a long drive back to Ritchfield.”

  “Give us a minute.” He signaled for Carter to follow him down the hall. I dug out my phone and called Hank to ask where he had parked his car and to relay the message that Carter had been cleared to leave the hospital.

  “Call me when you get back to Ritchfield,” Hank said.

  “I will, and tell the team good luck.”

  “Don’t forget to take care of yourself, Vika,” he said.

  I sent a few more messages before my dad dismissed Carter. We followed him outside and watched him climb into a waiting car and drive away.

  “Surprised he came,” Carter said.

  “Why? You’re part of the organization.”

  “Yeah, but I bet he wished I would’ve bit the big one.”

  “Don’t say that,” I said.

  We trudged across the parking lot to where Hank had left his car. We had a short argument about going to the police station, but I firmly told Carter he didn’t have a choice since I was in charge of the vehicle. I punched the address into my phone and took off.

  At the police station, they interviewed Carter, questioning him about people he’d interacted with at the bar. He barely remembered anything after the first round of drinks. They asked me a few questions and I told them I’d seen a few of the women in Ritchfield, but I didn’t pay too much attention to them or anyone else besides the team.

  By the time the questioning was complete, Carter could barely stand. They didn’t know i
f they would be able to press charges. No drugs were found on anyone and no one else had come forward with information. A search of the bar had turned up nothing. The only solid information they had was his bloodwork had yielded traces of GHB.

  “I suggest you take out restraining orders on the women if you feel threatened,” the officer said.

  “I’ll consider it,” Carter said.

  “I wish we could do more. Thank you for coming in, and I hope you get back to the Hawks soon.”

  Carter smiled and shook the officer’s hand.

  Before we left the city, we stopped at the hotel to pick up my things and then for a quick bite to eat. He was quiet and I decided not to push him to answer all the questions floating around my brain.

  The moment we rolled out of town, he was snoring.

  Chapter 11

  The worst thing about the long drive was to quit replaying all the awful things from the past evening. I kept reminding myself that Carter was okay. All I had to do was look at the guy curled up in the passenger seat. Still, my chest ached when I thought about how many things could have gone wrong.

  I finally had to turn the music up and concentrate on singing. I was surprised my slaughter of several tunes didn’t wake Carter.

  When I stopped at a traffic light, he finally stirred.

  “Where are we?” he asked, yawning widely.

  “Ritchfield.”

  “Take me to the rink. I need to skate.”

  “No, what you need is sleep,” I said.

  “Just drop me at the arena,” he said firmly.

  “You don’t have skates,” I said, thinking everything was still on the team bus.

  “I bet Hank put our stuff in the trunk.”

  I grumbled for a few minutes before caving. “Fine, if our stuff is in the trunk, I’ll bring you to the arena, but I’m coming on the ice with you, and you are not to push things. The doctors said to take it easy for a couple of days.”

  “I want to sweat all of the poison out of my body,” he said.

  “Now you decide to go healthy.”

  “Last night scared the shit out of me. I⁠—”

  “I get it,” I said. “But we’re going home first.”

  Carter grinned broadly. His smile widened when I popped the trunk and found our equipment. I cursed Hank for being so nice.

  We grabbed our bags and hauled them up the stairs, where we found Shelby sitting in the hall by her apartment. She immediately banged on the door, hollering for Sawyer, then leaped to her feet and threw her arms around Carter.

  The shocked look on his face was priceless and I thought about taking a picture. I couldn’t decide if Carter looked more like a startled rabbit or a smitten puppy. He patted her awkwardly on the back. The hug lasted for a few minutes, but then Shelby hauled off and punched him in the stomach. He let out a loud “oof” as she lit into him for making her worry.

  “You … you….” She stumbled over her words and started to cry, which sent Carter into panic mode.

  Sawyer took mercy on him and tugged the shaking kid away. Carter scooted around her and dumped his bag in the entryway before rushing down the hall to the bathroom. Shelby immediately gravitated toward me, searching for reassurance that everything would be okay. I hugged her and let her follow me into my apartment.

  “Alex called and told us what happened,” Sawyer said. “Are you sure you’re both okay?”

  “He’s fine, but he seems to think he needs to skate,” I said, frowning.

  “Can we come with you?” Shelby asked.

  I was about to tell her no when Carter interrupted and welcomed them to join us.

  Sawyer cleared his throat. “We’ll meet you over there, but we aren’t staying long.” Sawyer eyed Shelby. “We planned on going to the grocery store.” He widened his eyes, trying to communicate something to Shelby.

  “Oh, yeah, we’re making dinner tonight for you guys,” Shelby said.

  “We are?” Sawyer asked. Shelby punched him, and they squabbled for a few seconds before telling us dinner would be at six.

  When we arrived at the arena, Margo and Paulie took turns yelling at Carter for scaring them half to death. Margo huffed and gave him a quick hug before telling him he was an idiot again. Paulie threatened to make him wash the Zamboni if he insisted on making bad choices. Carter looked thoroughly confused with all the attention.

  “Why do they even care? They barely know me?”

  “You’re a part of this team,” I said.

  He wrinkled his brow and stared at me like I was crazy. I shoved him into the locker room and ordered him to get changed.

  “Vika,” Sawyer called out as he jogged toward me. He enveloped me in a hug, and I melted into his embrace.

  “I’m so tired,” I said.

  “C’mon, I brought you one of your wonder drinks, and if that doesn’t work, I have a thermos filled with delightfully strong coffee.”

  “What would I do without you?”

  I leaned into him, clutched his jacket, and buried my face in the warmth of the fabric.

  “It’s been a long day,” I mumbled.

  “Like I said before, your life is more entertaining than a novel. But could we get to the romance and leave out the suspense and turmoil. Alex almost gave me a heart attack last night. The kid could barely speak. It took me five minutes to calm him down enough to get the short version of the story. At some point I want details.”

  “I promise.” I tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s skate.”

  Shelby was already on the ice, working on some jumps. I downed the drink Sawyer brought me and answered a few of his questions. We didn’t get a chance to finish our conversation because Carter finally made his way to the bench.

  He tightened his skates and joined Shelby on the ice. Initially he took things slow, until Shelby riled him up, and soon they were chasing each other around the rink.

  I sat on the boards and watched as she nailed a triple toe, then challenged Carter to do something spectacular. He pursed his lips and did a waltz jump. She laughed and called him a loser. He silenced her by doing an axel.

  “Holy shit,” Sawyer said. “The guy can still jump.”

  Shelby badgered him with questions. He lied and told her I taught him how to do an axel. I don’t think she believed him. He ordered her to do another triple with a double added on for good measure. She flipped her ponytail and cranked out a triple Salchow, double toe.

  “She’s looking good,” I said to Sawyer.

  “She reminds me of you when you were a little sprite.” He hopped on the boards and scooted close to me, putting his arm around my shoulders. “Everything will be okay.”

  “He’s leaving soon,” I said, staring straight ahead.

  “I know,” he whispered.

  “He scared the shit out of me.”

  “They’re beefing up security here at the arena. Margo told me to call the police if I see any suspicious people hanging around. I’m not sure what a suspicious person looks like. Some mornings I’d call the police if I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.”

  I snorted.

  “Your boy is watching us,” Sawyer whispered.

  “He’s really not my boy,” I said.

  “Do you want him to be?”

  “I don’t know? He comes with a ton of baggage and apparently, stalkers.”

  “So do you,” he said and laughed.

  “I have no stalkers,” I said.

  “I’m staying at Shelby’s for the rest of the week.” He waggled his eyebrows and then jumped on the ice and did several laps.

  A sudden wave of heat shot through my body as I realized exactly what Sawyer was telling me. Carter was going to have to bunk at my apartment or find someplace else to stay, which was going to be impossible since the team was out of town and he’d made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t staying in a hotel. In hindsight, I should’ve rented a two-bedroom unit.

  Carter coaxed me on the ice, but I could barely look him in the eye
without my face flaming. I finally relaxed enough to enjoy myself, but at the same time, I watched him like a hawk to make sure he wasn’t suffering any ill effects from the GHB.

  “Shelby,” Sawyer shouted. “It’s time to get off the ice. The grocery store calls.” He kissed me on the cheek. “We’ll see you both for dinner.”

  “Are you sure I can’t take Shelby off your hands?”

  “Please, doll. I’m in charge of the kid, and I’m not going back on my promise to Alex. The boy is a jittery mess. He calls me every few hours to make sure I haven’t lost her or starved her or drowned her in the shower or some other insane thing.”

  “Does Carter know you’re kicking him out?”

  “Oh, hell no. I’m leaving that up to you,” Sawyer said, patting me on the cheek.

  “Soy Sauce,” Shelby shouted. “Let’s go. You said we had to go.”

  “My charge is calling me,” he said. “You take care, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

  “That leaves everything wide-fucking-open,” I shouted.

  His laughter echoed down the tunnel.

  “Open to what?” Carter asked.

  “Forget it,” I said.

  We worked for another forty-five minutes until the sweat dripped from Carter’s brow. He finally stopped, climbed on the boards, and sat down, swinging his legs so his blades banged loudly.

  “Wanna show me your stuff?”

  He winked and I couldn’t stop the giggle.

  “Depends on what stuff you want to see,” I teased.

  He cocked his head and smirked. “Whatever you’re offering.”

  “If you pick the music,” I said, “I’ll skate.”

  “Seriously?” His eyes widened and his grin lit up the arena. “I thought you’d say no.”

  “I’m feeling generous.”

  “I used to love coming to the arena at night, blasting music, and freestyling to it. Drove my coach crazy. He used to bitch that I was better on the practice ice than during competition. But the bastard wouldn’t let me choose my own music. He didn’t understand I couldn’t get behind the shit he picked.”

  “You were good,” I said. “Good enough to be ranked second in the country.”

  “I know, and then I gave it up for the wonderful world of hockey.”