Underneath It All (Storm Series)

by Carr, Cassandra

  Colby gave Rob three ibuprofen then held a bottle of water to his lips. “I know you’re nauseous, but this will help with the swelling. We need that to go down before we can do much else.”

  Rob choked down the pills.

  Handing the bottle to one of his assistants, Colby looked at Rob, his expression serious. “You ready?”

  “Hell no.”

  The doctor spoke. “Rob, we need to put that shoulder back in as soon as possible, but we also have to proceed with caution. First we’ll do an X-ray, so we can see what we’re working with.”

  The doctor directed one of the guys to put the portable machine into place, and then all of them donned anti-radiation vests. As best they could, they draped Rob’s over his torso and his other arm. The men stepped away and Rob heard the whir of the X-ray machine. He did his best to grit his teeth and wait for the doctor to check over the X-ray.

  When they were finally ready to maneuver the joint back into place, the doctor injected some ketamine to numb the area. They helped Rob lie down, which would help the doctor as he manipulated the shoulder. One of the assistants placed a towel underneath the dislocated joint, and then the doctor slowly worked Rob’s arm, grasping at the wrist and elbow. Rob swore freely as more pain radiated from his injury, but the doctor doggedly continued.

  Finally, the man said, “There. The joint is back in place, but not at all stable. You’ll need to wear a sling home, and I’d advise you to go see an orthopedist at your earliest opportunity.”

  Rob was lethargic and dizzy. The pain had been reduced to something he could handle though. He’d be stacking pillows on his bed to avoid turning onto the injured shoulder, and yet the freaking thing would still hurt like a bitch all night and probably for several days more. “Why? Did you see something on the X-ray you didn’t tell me about?” Cold dread snaked up his spine.

  “No, but considering your history of injuries to both shoulders, the possibility of damage should be addressed. I never make guarantees, but I’d be willing to say with a good level of certainty the joint will pop out again without surgical intervention. You’re still young. Take care of this now, rather than waiting and hoping everything will heal on its own.” Rob began to speak but the doctor held up his hand and continued, “I can’t say anything for sure, which is why I want you to go see an ortho specialist. I wouldn’t be surprised if they decided to go ahead with surgery right away.”

  Rob groaned. Surgery meant months of rehab. It was only mid-November, and the season had a long way to go. He didn’t relish missing a big chunk of games. Even as he spoke, deep down he knew the answer to his question, but he had to ask. “Can I wait until the season is over?”

  “You’d have to talk to the specialist. The joint is unstable, and another good jolt could dislocate it again. And next time you might not be so lucky.”

  “Lucky?” Is this guy nuts?

  “Yes, lucky. The shoulder is a crucial joint and one you shouldn’t mess around with. Not dealing with the problem could mean the end of your NHL career.”

  Nodding, Rob stared at the ceiling, his eyes filling with tears. He had no choice, but the thought of missing months of playing was downright depressing, and he didn’t even know who’d hit him. Rob had enemies in the league because of his playing style, but he wasn’t a dirty player.

  That hit had been illegal. Rob was sure of that to the marrow of his bones, and he hoped the player at least got his comeuppance. There was no room for disrespect like that in the league. He couldn’t recall who’d been on the ice for the other team, but not many guys would blatantly headhunt like the man had.

  The doctor patted his leg. “I’ll leave you alone now. You can sleep tonight and go to the doctor tomorrow. I’ve left some meds for you in case you get sore.”

  Sore? Rob snorted. What a nice word for this excruciating pain. “Thanks, doc.”

  He looked down at himself. He was still in full gear with the exception of his skates. Trying to recollect when they’d been removed, Rob frowned. He wasn’t surprised they’d taken them off considering how easily someone could be cut, but he didn’t like knowing he’d been so out of it he couldn’t remember a simple thing such as that. After helping him very gingerly divest himself of his uniform and pads, Colby packed his shoulder in ice.

  Several moments later, as he lay on the table in a thin Storm T-shirt and shorts, not even feeling the ice too much due to the ketamine, he suddenly remembered Alaina. He had no idea if she’d been watching, but undoubtedly if she had, she was freaking out. Worry about her reaction brought him out of his brooding over the injury and back to reality.

  Calling out to one of the assistant trainers, Rob asked, “Can you get Sebastian for me?” It was between periods and Sebastian should be around.

  A few minutes later, his friend waddled into the room and Rob’s eyes narrowed. Sebastian’s cheek was beginning to puff up, the corner of his mouth was cut, and one eye was closing. “Geez. What does the other guy look like?”

  Sebastian began to smile, but then reached up and touched his face. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

  “I bet my boo-boo hurts worse than yours.”

  “The boo-boo can’t be that bad if you’re making jokes.”

  “I’m so hopped up on drugs I can hardly feel a thing.”

  “They threw Kapilette out of the game,” Sebastian said as he reached Rob’s side.

  Rob frowned. “Kapilette hit me?” That didn’t make sense. Kapilette was a good kid from everything Rob knew about him.

  Sebastian nodded. “I don’t think he was trying to hurt you. He probably went to check you and lost control.”

  “Weird.” With his good arm, he gestured toward Sebastian’s face. “So who did that to you?”

  “Freaking Mansell. I went after Kapilette, and the kid turtled.”

  Rob’s lips twitched at Sebastian’s use of “kid,” as if Sebastian was an old veteran. Sure, he had four or five years on the teenaged Kapilette, but still.

  “Then Mansell came over and sucker punched me. Ben took him out.”

  “Took him out? Ben?” Their esteemed captain was many things, but a fighter wasn’t one of them.

  “Yeah. I was surprised too. One punch and the guy was down. I bet Rick was proud.”

  Rob wished he’d been there to see it; then he wouldn’t be here. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “Take my phone and send Alaina a quick text that I’m okay? Even if she isn’t watching the game, she might hear about the hit somehow. I don’t want her to worry.”

  Sebastian looked him up and down. “Yeah, you look okay for sure.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes. I will go text her.”

  “Thanks, man. And thanks for trying to defend me.”

  “Trying? I did defend you.”

  Sebastian seemed so indignant Rob would’ve laughed had he not been in pain. Yeah, he shouldn’t make fun of Sebastian, but he hadn’t been able to resist a dig. “We all know you’re a lover, not a fighter.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Sebastian left and Rob shifted, grimacing as the sensation obviously had returned to his arm. Even his fingernails hurt.

  The team’s PR director stuck his head in the room. “What happened was pretty obvious, but we’re going with the normal ‘upper body injury, will not return, day to day’ line.”

  Rob waved him off with his good arm. “Do what you’ve gotta do, dude.” What the press was told was the least of his problems.

  A minute later, Sarah arrived. “I don’t want to bug you, but I needed to see for myself that you were all right.” She stared at his shoulder, still encased in ice, her brow furrowing. “Do you need someone to take you to the ER? Did they call an ambulance?”

  With more movement, though unconscious on his part, what had been twinges of pain morphed into something more. Yeah, the drugs were definitely starting to wear off, but he wanted to wait until he was ready for sleep to
take more. “They said I can see an orthopedist tomorrow.”

  Sarah met his gaze and said, “I’ll drive you.”

  “Okay. That would be great if you can. Trying to maneuver a steering wheel with your arm in a sling isn’t easy.”

  “I can imagine. One of us will take you home tonight in your car while the other follows. Will you be okay through one more period? Maybe they’d let me leave, and then Sebastian could pick me up at your house, or we could find someone else.”

  “I can wait. I should be taking the ice off soon, and I’ll lie here and rest, trying not to swear a blue streak loud enough to be heard in the upper bowl, since the feeling is coming back. The damn thing would hurt less if a giant tried to rip my arm off.”

  “Well, take it easy. Don’t harass the nursing staff.”

  One of the assistant trainers, who’d been across the room taping one of Rob’s teammate’s ankles, looked up and gave Sarah a mock frown. “Nurses,” the guy muttered as his teammate tried his damndest to keep a straight face.

  Sarah winked at Rob and left, most likely to return to the press box where she and her co-worker, Doug, watched the games. Rob closed his eyes, but he couldn’t block out the pain with less to distract his brain, so he opened them once more, even if only to have something to look at.

  Calling over to the trainer, who was now putting away supplies and re-tidying the room, Rob asked, “Hey, can you tell Sarah I’m in the players’ lounge? I’m bored, and I want to watch the end of the game.” Anything to divert his attention from the pain was welcome right now.

  “Sure thing, man. You need any help?”

  “Nah, I’ve got it. I’ll take the ice pack with me.”

  “Okay. Shout if you need something.”

  Rob sat up slowly then swung his legs over the side of the table, waiting to see if the nausea he’d felt earlier came roaring back. When he was reasonably sure he would be able to walk without puking his guts out again, Rob shimmied off the treatment table and reached for the ice pack. Someone had brought his flip flops and left them on the floor. Attempting not to jar anything too much, he slid his feet into the shoes.

  Hopefully Sebastian had been able to get a text to Alaina. He thought about grabbing his phone from the changing room, but decided he’d better not. Typing one-handed was a pain in the ass and he really shouldn’t be using both. Plus, that would mean more walking. Considering he felt like he’d been run over by a bus, which then backed up and repeated the action about a thousand times, that wasn’t a good idea.

  After making his way to the players’ lounge at the speed of a decrepit snail, Rob carefully folded himself onto the couch and stuck the ice pack on his shoulder. The big-screen TV was tuned to the game, of course, which was about two minutes into the third period. He’d been in this same location last year during playoffs. Rob hated not being able to help his team win, but injuries were a part of the game. Only the very luckiest guys were able to stay healthy for a good stretch of time.

  The Storm won 3-2, and as the guys passed the players’ lounge after the game, many stopped in long enough to commiserate or get an update. He tried to answer their questions patiently, since he had to wait until Sebastian was ready to go so he could drive Rob’s car home, but his ability to function with any kind of politeness was wearing thin. Though, Rob was secretly glad he didn’t have to leave the Escalade at the arena. The lot was secured, but the arena backed up to a not-so-great part of Buffalo and he’d seen some shady characters hanging around. Even if he couldn’t drive, as long as his car was at his house he’d feel better.

  Sarah walked in, carrying some orange juice and a bagel, and sat. After handing him the food, she said, “Doug’s going to take care of the game video tonight.”

  Rob nodded. “That’s pretty decent of him.” Until then, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was. Plus having food in his belly would help when he took the pain pills later.

  Sebastian was a lucky man. Rob had watched his two friends fall in love—hard—and they were truly each other’s “better half.” Sebastian calmed Sarah, who tended to be a worrier, and Sarah gave Sebastian unwavering support and confidence as he became the man they all knew he could be, the man he pretty much was even now at twenty-four.

  “Eh, I’ve covered for him when he’s had to go pick up a sick kid or whatever. He can do the same for me.”

  “Sorry you guys have to go to this trouble. I’m sure Seb’s tired after a game like that.”

  She waved him off. “It’s no problem.”

  “I can call a cab for tomorrow. I don’t even know what time my appointment will be. I have to call them in the morning.”

  “Whenever they can see you is fine. I’ll drive and wait while you see the doctor.”

  “Are you sure? Could be a long time.” Rob hated being dependent on anybody, the feeling chafing against everything he believed in. It wasn’t like he hated his parents or his family, but he’d been on his own for so long he hadn’t answered to anybody in years. When he and Sebastian had lived together last year, of course they’d kept each other in the loop about their whereabouts—that was only polite. Other than that, though, they’d trusted if the other needed something they’d ask.

  “Rob, seriously, don’t worry. This is one of the benefits of having friends.”

  Sebastian entered the room and stopped. “You guys ready? Do you need to change?”

  Rob looked at his clothes. “I’m not putting a suit on, no matter how cold I’ll be out there. I need to get a sling from Colby, though.”

  “I’ll go,” Sebastian offered. “Wait here.”

  “Take the ice pack back,” Sarah told him, and Rob handed over the now-mushy parcel.

  A few moments later, Sebastian was back. He and Sarah helped Rob get the sling over his head and properly adjusted, and then after grabbing Rob’s suit, trench coat, phone, and wallet, they walked out to the cars. A couple of media types were hanging around outside the locker room but left him alone as he moved past them. He wanted in the worst way to check his phone and see if Alaina had contacted him, but felt it would be unsafe as he walked on less-than-steady legs out of the arena, so he pocketed the phone and his wallet in his sweatshorts.

  Fans had already gathered outside the fence for the players’ parking lot, and a couple called out to him to take care and feel better. He waved with his good hand then climbed into the passenger seat of his truck with a relieved sigh. Normally he would go and sign autographs, say hello to the fans who spent their hard-earned money to see them play, but today he didn’t have the energy or the right frame of mind. The fans understood. Buffalo sports fans were knowledgeable, which could be a blessing or a curse depending on how you were playing.

  Sebastian drove to Rob’s place, taking the corners easy so Rob’s shoulder wasn’t jostled. Once at his house, both Sarah and Sebastian helped him get situated. Sarah heated up some leftovers, insisting a bagel wasn’t enough food to eat, and Sebastian laid a couple of pillows on the bed to keep Rob in one spot during the night. After he ate, Sarah gave him a pain pill and Sebastian ensured Rob was all set to sleep before the two of them left.

  Finally, he pulled out his phone. His friends had been so nice he hadn’t wanted to tell them to go away so he could be left in peace to mourn his shoulder and see if Alaina had sent him a message of sympathy. But when he checked his phone, he found nothing.

  Rob stared at the ceiling even as he felt sleep taking him. This was by far the worst shoulder injury he’d ever suffered, and the logical side of his brain told him surgery would be necessary. He’d only lasted a month of the season and was already hurt. As a general rule, Rob tried to avoid feeling sorry for himself, but with his shoulder a dull ache, the obvious was hard to avoid. He was in big trouble.

  ~ * ~

  SEVEN

  Alaina hadn’t slept the previous night. She’d gotten the text from Sebastian saying Rob was okay, but she’d watched the replay about a dozen times and felt sick as his body contorted unnatura
lly before tumbling to the ice. Despite that, she’d kept rewinding the DVR to see the play again, as if doing that would make it less real. The only thing the TV announcers had said was that Rob had suffered an upper body injury and wouldn’t return.

  No shit, Sherlock.

  All Sebastian had said was that Rob had wanted her to know he was “okay.” The lie grated at her. Clearly he was badly injured, and the fact he was trying to shield her was annoying. Rob didn’t want her to worry, but not knowing his true condition was driving her crazy. She should be helping him, nursing him back to health, or whatever it was girlfriends did when their men were hurt.

  Would Rob be able return to hockey? Alaina had gotten the impression keeping a hockey player out of the game was almost impossible, but the way he’d thrashed around…he must’ve been in enormous pain to react like that publicly. The injury had to be serious.

  She went into work and wandered around like a zombie. A few of the kids had seen the game and were aware Rob was hurt, and she tried to reassure them his injury wasn’t that bad, but had no idea if she was lying since she hadn’t gotten any more updates. Every chance Alaina got, she checked her cell for messages or texts, but nothing came. She didn’t want to call in case he was resting, which wouldn’t be surprising if they’d given him some heavy pain pills.

  Finally her phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out. Rob, thank God. Normally Alaina would’ve let the call go to voicemail but she was losing her mind not knowing what was going on, so she told her class to play quietly and hunkered down in the front corner of the room. “Hello?”

  “Hi, babe.” Even over the phone he sounded exhausted.

  “How are you? Dumb question, I know, but…”

  “I’m going to have surgery in a few days. Rehab after surgery is at best a few months, so I’m not looking at coming back before late February at the earliest, but could be April, or even beyond, if the shoulder doesn’t heal well or the strength doesn’t return.” He sounded different than she’d ever heard him—utterly defeated—and her heart went out to him.