Blindsided: Renegades 7 (The Renegades Series)

by Melody Heck Gatto

  Only once the sun started to rise and daylight started to overtake the darkness, did she finally stop fighting sleep and allow her eyelids to close.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Sam

  Sam woke with a throbbing headache. Opening his eyes, he saw that the bedroom was blurry. He scrubbed his hands over his face, hoping to wipe away the sleepiness. But looking around, nothing was any clearer. The throbbing in his skull continued as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. It had been lonely at home since Trina had taken Willow on vacation with some of the other wives.

  He liked that she was forging friendships within the team family. That made life easier and more enjoyable for both of them. But after the hit he took the other night, he just wanted to come home to her waiting arms and curl up with her.

  He remembered everything that led up to the hit. The Renegades were at home, playing against Boston. JR Rancy had been giving Kris a hard time, like always. Those two hated each other. Sam didn’t know the whole story, but it was something about Kris’s ex. Plus, the guy was a real ass. He caused issues with Kris every time they played him.

  None of the hits Rancy put on Kris were being called by the officials. After the last one, Sam rushed towards Rancy with the intention of hitting him just hard enough to drive home a point—leave Lafleur alone. But it only angered the Boston enforcer.

  The players lined up for a face-off right outside Boston’s net. Sam caught a suspicious nod between Rancy and the player taking the face-off. As soon as the puck dropped, Boston slid the biscuit in Sam’s direction. He chased the puck into the corner. His head was down only long enough to get sight of the puck, but from the corner of his eye, he saw Rancy charging towards him. If he could just get this puck to Tyler, maybe he could score. What felt like minutes of his holding on to the puck was really only seconds. As he slid the rubber disc away, a hard body crashed into him from behind.

  The solid hockey stick slammed against his shoulders and up into his neck, smashing his face into the glass. All he recalled was Sal, the assistant coach, and the Renegades trainer helping lift him off the ice. Propped up against the boards, he could see Rancy eyeing him from Boston’s bench, laughing. What an ass.

  Tyler was passionately discussing something with the ref, and not in a happy way. Coach Walker was screaming at the officials from the Renegades bench. Sam was woozy, and all the noise was garbled, almost as if he were underwater. Sal was talking to him but Sam couldn’t comprehend what was being said. Sal’s words were jumbled.

  Sam just kept repeating, “I’m fine.” If he said it enough, maybe they’d believe him and keep him in the game. The team doctor was now at his side as well as Tyler. Standing up, they led him towards the locker room. There wasn’t much time left in the game, so he was held in the locker room, and not allowed to return to the ice.

  Trina had been away for a week now, but he wished she wasn’t when he had returned home alone that night. He knew his head wasn’t right, but he had passed the locker room concussion protocol, and he wasn’t about to say anything that could keep him out of the next game. He wasn’t concussed, wasn’t that good enough?

  This morning the fierce pain wasn’t any better. His head dropped into his hands and he took deep breaths, hoping to subdue the discomfort. Maybe it was better that Trina and little Willow were on vacation. He was sure the toddler’s delightful squeal wouldn’t be so cute to him in this state.

  The phone call to Trina after that game wasn’t enough. She was concerned and caring, but having her arms wrapped around him was what he really needed. He hadn’t wanted to worry her, so he hadn’t told her the whole truth about the injury and the pain. She would’ve learned that much from the other guys or coach anyway.

  His girls were relaxing on vacation in the Caribbean, and they wouldn’t be back for at least a week, but that didn’t mean Trina wasn’t keeping track of their games while away. Tyler Kidd, their Captain, was her brother. She always made sure she kept tabs on them both.

  The clock’s numbers glared at him through the darkness of the room. It was time to get ready for morning skate. But as he stood, the room spun. He needed to shake this, or Coach Walker would know with one look that he wasn’t well enough to play tonight. His stomach churned as he dragged himself to the bathroom. The nausea finally subsided after he puked, caught a quick, cool shower, and then he rewarded his empty belly with a banana smoothie and some toast. Maybe some food was all he needed, because he felt much better.

  The team doctor checked Sam’s eyes multiple times while he talked about various things. The doc asked about Trina and Willow, talked mindlessly about his own family, and asked about the hit. All the while watching Sam closely as he responded. Rob knew exactly what he was looking for, and Sam was trying to play it cool.

  “How’s the headache?”

  “Headache?” Sam shook his head. “No headache.”

  A scowl sat on Rob’s face as Sam spoke. “You realize I know you’re lying, right? I’m the last person you want to try to fool.”

  “Okay, yeah. I have a headache. It’s not as bad as last night, but it sucks. As much as I miss the girls, I’m kind of glad they’re away. Willow’s happy screeches would be torture while my head is still throbbing.”

  “So, it’s still throbbing?”

  Dammit. Rob did this all the time. Getting anything past him was literally impossible. “A little bit. Yes. But it isn’t as bad as it was last night.”

  “And you slept?”

  “Yes. Did you?” Sam grinned, but even doing that hurt his head. Fuck. Something has got to give. I just want to feel better.

  “Yes, thanks for asking. But I’m not the one with the concussion symptoms.”

  “Look doc, last night I was told I don’t have a concussion. So just give me the abridged version.”

  “Based on our exam last night, and your responses today, it’s unlikely that you have a concussion. But you should rest, Sam. These things don’t have a magic cure.” Rob stood back and watched Sam carefully. “From your expression, the rolling of the eyes, and the smart-ass smirk, I’m going to assume you’re still going to practice this morning.”

  “Unless you tell me that I can’t, then, yes.” Sam couldn’t help but grin.

  “All I’m going to say is that you know your body. If it tells you to pull back, please do. If you aren’t one-hundred percent and you get hit again, things could get bad. If you feel okay, just be careful out there. Stay tuned in to what your body is telling you.” Rob wrote something in Sam’s chart before he continued. “Please call me if anything gets worse.”

  The whole ride to the Rivers Arena, Sam thought about what Rob had said. He could do that; he could listen to his body. If it told him to stop, he would. Right now, all he wanted to do was get back out on the ice. So… he must be okay. Obviously, it would take time for the headache to go away. But he was never one to sit back and rest.

  Trina texted him while he was on the highway. The special tone he assigned her alerted him of that. Once he pulled into the parking garage, he took off his sunglasses and grabbed his phone.

  Trina: Hey handsome. Feeling better this morning?

  If he said no, that he wasn’t feeling any better, she would no doubt contact Ty before she even hung up with him. He knew his Captain well enough to know that Tyler wouldn’t let him play injured. And if he didn’t skate this morning, he wouldn’t be playing tonight.

  Sam: Sure am. No side effects. How are my girls doing? I miss you guys.

  It was hard to lie to her. He hated every moment of it. He didn’t lie to his wife. Ever. She was his rock and he was hers. But for some reason, it came so easily when it was about hockey. He didn’t have a concussion history. He had experienced other injuries in the past, especially that season before he met Trina. In his mind, this would go away and he would be fine. He could just play through it.

  Trina: We miss you too. Willow is quite popular with the ladies. She’s lucky to have so many Aunts.

&nbs
p; Sam: She sure is. Well, tell everyone I said hello. I just got to the arena and have to get ready for morning skate.

  Trina: Okay. Have fun. Glad you’re okay. Love you.

  Sam: Love you too, babe.

  Taking a moment to enjoy the silence, he dropped his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He would be fine. The headache was starting to go away, and the dizziness was gone. Opening his eyes, he stared at his screen saver of Trina and little Willow. His daughter had white-blond hair that matched Trina’s more than his. It was light and sun kissed like his wife’s, versus his color that was more dirty blond. But her eyes were his. An awesome bright blue—well, that’s what Trina always called them.

  His vision was much clearer than it had been earlier this morning. He knew he’d be fine.

  Entering the locker room, the noise echoed in his ears, which was unusual. Normally it didn’t bother him. But as long as the headache stayed away, this was nothing he couldn’t deal with.

  “There he is! Dude, you’re almost late!” Pat called.

  A look at his watch told Sam that Pat was right; in five minutes he would’ve been late. They had to be in on time; if not, they’d be fined by the league. That was the last thing he’d been thinking about this morning. I have to shake this.

  Ty narrowed his eyes as he looked at Sam.

  Did he know something was up? Had Tri suspected something and called him? Sam did his best to steer the conversation. “Yeah, I see that. Tri texted me as I was driving in, so I took some time to message her once I got into the garage. After the hit I took last night, she was checking up on me, and I couldn’t leave her hanging. You know how the girls worry.”

  Ty seemed to relax and nodded with a smile. “Yep. They sure do. So, how’re my sister and niece doing? Are they having fun in the sun?”

  “Of course they are. Willow is apparently keeping the ladies busy.”

  “Oh, she is,” Kris interrupted. “She just loves Ian, too. Won’t leave his side.”

  “Yeah, I have heard that she’s his little shadow. You might have to watch that one, Morris. She’s going to be a heartbreaker someday,” Pat added.

  Talking about Willow just made Sam miss her more. His thoughts slipped to his little firecracker, who wasn’t too much different from her mother. But Coach’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “Morris!” Coach motioned towards the office with his head.

  Sam already knew he wanted to check up on him after last night’s hit. He made himself comfortable in one of the brown leather chairs in front of Coach Walker’s desk. “G’Morning Coach.”

  “Sam, how are you feeling this morning?” Coach Walker studied Sam’s eyes, then moved his stare at the rest of him.

  “I feel fine, Coach.” It wasn’t so much of a lie as it was a partial truth. Sam didn’t feel too bad right now, but he really needed to get out on the ice to know for sure how he felt.

  “You sure you’re good?” Coach asked again.

  Sam nodded. He didn’t want to talk about this; he just wanted to play. He wasn’t feeling bad enough to risk missing ice time. Nothing was going to keep him from what he loved.

  “Okay. Well, go get ready. See you out there.” Coach waved him towards the door leading back to the locker room.

  A hand wrapped around his shoulder as he moved towards his locker, and he turned to see Tyler staring at him with a serious look on his face.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Sam? Tri would never forgive me if I didn’t double, even triple check, before I let you out onto the ice. You know I’m not real keen on dealing with her wrath.”

  Sam shook his head and paused a moment before answering. Convincing himself that this wasn’t lying was harder than he thought it’d be. He was feeling better, which was a good sign. A little exercise would surely only make him feel better. “I’m sure.” Pulling away from his captain and brother-in-law, he got ready for practice.

  Coach’s morning workout had him out of breath, sweating and his head pounding, but that was nothing new when it came to on-ice workouts. After a grueling forty minutes of drills, it was time for competition, and the loser had to do laps. Their bodies ached, but they needed to push on.

  “O’Conner! I got this. Get ready to do drills and laps, bro,” Dominic Zanetti called to Kaden, the goalie for the light team.

  “I don’t think so!” Kaden responded with a head shake. “Save a little energy for your laps, Z!”

  That last thing Sam wanted to do was laps. His body was drained. Standing at the bench, he took a few deep breaths and a drink of water. His head was heavy, but at least the shooting pain was gone.

  “Morris! You doing okay?” Coach called from across the ice, his eyes intent on Sam. They didn’t mess around when it came to head injuries, but Sam wasn’t leaving the ice, either.

  The glare off the ice wasn’t bothering him, and his headache was there, but not enough to stop him. His words were separated by his heavy breathing. “Yeah… I’m good.”

  “Sam, you sure?” Ty nudged him as he lined up with the other guys.

  “I said I was fine.” He didn’t need Ty over-analyzing if he was okay or not; he just wanted to work out. He was feeling better while he over-exerted himself, so there was no reason for concern or apprehension.

  Tyler put his gloved hands up in defense. “Just checking, man. You know Tri would have my head if I didn’t.”

  “Yeah.” Sam shook his head, reeling in his irritation. “You’re right. She would.” He knew his wife, and Tyler wasn’t wrong. She’d be all over him if Ty didn’t think to check up on him.

  The line moved quickly, and Sam was up next. Pat and Kris returned to the end of the line, out of breath and dragging. The suicide drills were worse than the entire practice combined.

  Sam was up. To his left was Luc. Shit. This kid is fast. To his right was Torin. Taking a deep breath, Sam focused ahead of him. The whistle blew and he tore away. Racing up the ice as fast as he could, he hit the line with his skate blade and returned to the start line, hitting the ice with the slice of his metal blade, once more. He raced to get this over with, and didn’t pay any mind to the guys around him.

  He hit the line with his skate blade and pushed off hard to give him enough force to finish this drill. Rushing back to where he began, the ice-cold air blasted on his face, and his heart slammed against his chest. His head pounded, as sweat poured from his temples.

  The goalies were in the last group of guys, which never seemed quite fair to him, but neither of them was in his group, so he was feeling optimistic at no laps being in his future. It was an awkward sight, the goalies racing in all their gear, but they did it. Slowly, but still. In the end, just as he assumed, Sam’s team came in first.

  The Coach blew the whistle and most of the team exited the ice, except for the group that lost and had to hang back for laps.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Trina

  Trina quietly crept out of the bedroom and pulled the door all but closed behind her. It had taken forever to get little Willow to go down for her nap today. She’d been extra cranky earlier, not her normal little ball of sunshine. Neither of them had had a very restful sleep last night. It had been a few days since Sam had taken that hit, but Trina still couldn’t stop the feeling that something wasn’t right with her husband, and it seemed as though Willow sensed that concern. The toddler was restless and woke almost every hour, asking for her Daddy.

  Watching the games and seeing Sam play wasn’t enough to rid her of this feeling. He didn’t look like himself out there. He appeared slower and was making messy mistakes. A yawn crept up on her as she slid onto the cushiony couch. She might be able to take a quick nap while Willow slept. Kat and Ian had gone in earlier, so they would be up before her little princess, and if Willow happened to wake and Trina was still asleep, there were plenty of doting aunts waiting to bend to her every need.

  Settling back on the couch, Trina closed her eyes. The surf crashed against the shore outside the
open porch doors. The sound was calming. She loved the beach, the waves, the sun, the sand. She flashed back to the first time she laid eyes on her handsome husband. She’d been walking her dog, Toby, along the boardwalk, and she was singing, because back then she always was. When she turned to see him watching her, she had instantly fallen for those blue eyes and that surfer-boy look…

  That did it. All feelings of serenity and peace were erased from her mind and instead she was filled with visions of her love. The memory of his intense blue eyes and sandy blond hair made her heart ache; she missed him so much. Her body tensed, and there was no way she would be napping now.

  She needed to talk to Sam. She needed to see him. Picking up her cell phone from the coffee table, she called Sam on Skype. His handsome face graced her screen. Seeing him warmed her heart. A sexy smile slid across his lips but did not reach his eyes. Those awesome blue eyes had an unusual touch of sadness to them that he quickly tried to mask. “Hey baby.”

  It hadn’t even been two weeks, and she missed him as though she’d been gone for months. She had gone longer stretches than this without him when he was on road trips out west. But something was different this time.

  The regular season was winding down and all the players were letting their hair grow and their beards grow out. It was tradition or ritual or something. His surfer boy ’do was now shaggy hockey player hair. If the back got any longer, he’d look like he had a mullet. She always did like his hair shaggy. The top was long enough that it curled into his eyes, and she loved running her hands through it. Her stomach tingled as she envisioned doing just that.

  “Hey handsome. How are you?” She didn’t expect an honest answer.

  “I’m doing okay. I miss my girls.” His smile was less devilish and more timid now. “What have you two been up to today? Where’s my little sunshine?”

  Her heart ached. “We miss you, too. Willow is sleeping, finally. She had a rough night; we both did.”