Secret Obsession: Chapter 64

All hell breaks loose after Miles gets hit. Knox charges the player who hit his brother, colliding with him and knocking him into the boards. The other player doesn’t have any qualms about swinging back, and now they’re locked in an exchange. Knox seems to be only fueled by the fact that Miles isn’t getting up.

On the other side of the net, Greyson is beating the shit out of another player. Steele, Finch, and three others from the visiting team are locked in some mass huddle, too, all of them yelling. Crown Point players are leaping off the bench, and suddenly it’s chaos. Whistles are blown, the crowd is yelling.

The refs have their hands full trying to tear everyone apart, but my attention is on Miles. My heart is in my damn throat.

I reach for Violet’s hand, and she squeezes hard.

He’s not getting up.

“He’s moving,” Violet whispers.

“He already was healing from a concussion and the ear thing.” I shake my head and stand. I drop Violet’s hand to press both to the glass. “What the fuck are they doing?”

Medics have reached him. They kneel on either side, slowly turning him onto his back. There are too many people in the way, and my heart is going to explode with not knowing.

Finally, one gets up and hurries back to the door. He returns a moment later with a stretcher.

The fighting breaks up suddenly, as fast as it began.

You can hear a pin drop in the arena.

Knox drops to his knees beside his brother. He leans over him, dripping blood everywhere—from his nose, his mouth—and only swipes an errant hand through it to stem the flow.

They load Miles onto the stretcher.

“Come on,” Violet says, taking my arm and pulling me toward the aisle. “Willow.”

I cast a glance back at my sister. She seems horrified, her hand over her mouth. This isn’t exactly how I envisioned the whole meet the boyfriend thing going.

I leave them sitting there without a word and race up the stairs with Violet. We burst outside and circle the arena to the players’ entrance, just in time to see Miles being loaded into an ambulance.

My stomach twists.

“Wait!” I rush forward.

They either don’t hear me or don’t want to wait, because only a moment later, the ambulance pulls away.

I’m tempted to chase it.

Strong arms catch me around the middle before I have a chance to take a step off the sidewalk. They put me on my feet with my back to the building.

Knox.

“Don’t,” I hiss.

He looks stricken, still in his skates and standing on the concrete.

“We’re going to the hospital,” Violet says. “Knox, are you coming?”

The door opens, and Coach emerges with Knox’s bag and street shoes. Knox quickly bends down and unlaces the skates, handing them to his coach.

“Go,” Coach Roake tells us. “Keep me updated, and we’ll see you after the game.”

Knox nods. He shoves his feet into his sneakers and shoulders his bag, turning his gaze to Violet.

“Okay,” Violet says.

I nod my own agreement.

Getting in the car with him is another issue entirely. The ride over is silent, and the tension between us just keeps climbing. Violet drops both of us off out front and goes to park, and Knox takes over at the front desk. Says we’re there for his brother, who was just brought in.

“Six-foot something hockey player, probably griping about needing to be here.” Knox leans on the counter and smiles at the girl. “You probably couldn’t have missed him.”

“They’ve got him up for testing,” she says. “Rush order for CPU’s finest goalie.”

She smiles at him.

Ugh, is he flirting?

I step up beside him and elbow him in the gut, but I only connect with the hard plastic under his jersey. Ow.

He snorts at my effort.

“You can take a seat in the waiting room,” she says. “When he’s back down, you can see him.”

I glance at Knox, then move away. I take a seat in the far corner of the ER waiting room, folding my arms over my chest. Worry has taken ahold of me, but I don’t know how to manage it. There’s some part of me that still wants to go to alcohol. It numbed me for months, it was my fallback, it was a safe haven I could sink into.

Not anymore, though. I can’t do that to myself—or Miles.

Knox fiddles around with the cups at the water cooler, pouring a cup, then comes over and takes the seat right next to me. His freaking shoulder brushes mine.

“Willow.”

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, refusing to turn my head.

“Willow,” he says again.

“Knox,” I sigh. “What do you want?”

He’s silent.

I direct my attention to my nails, which are suddenly way more fascinating than anything else. Including my ex, who seems determined to annoy the life out of me.

“Do you think you could forgive me?” he finally asks.

I scoff. He’s already apologized, and I didn’t have an answer for him then. I’m not sure I do now either.

“What? Is that a no?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I stand and pace away from him. “What do you want forgiveness for? Which part?”

“All of it?”

“I’d love a list.” I face him and plant my hands on my hips. “Go on.”

He runs his hand down his face. He’s still bleeding, the asshole. It comes away on his hand from his nose and a split lip. Defending his fallen brother, the goalie.

No one touches the goalie.

“First, I should’ve just left you to my brother.”

I wave him off, old guilt rising and forming a lump in my throat. “He told me he was in love with someone, so I pounced on you. That’s more on me than anything else.”

He grunts. “Well, it shouldn’t have continued on as long as it did.”

“Agreed,” I mutter.

“And I’m sorry for… putting you in danger. With the guy’s brother. And also for causing your downward spiral. And for breaking up with you so publicly—”

“Okay, okay.” I grimace. “Jesus. You really are an asshole, you know?”

“Yeah. It’s what makes me a good hockey player.”

“But not a good person,” I reply.

He shrugs.

Do I want to forgive him? Even two months ago, I would’ve said absolutely not. The wound seemed to be rotting inside me. Thus, alcohol. But then Miles came in and cleared out the dead stuff, replacing it with… himself. And he made me better.

There’s no more room for hatred.

“Fine,” I reply. “I forgive you.”

He jumps up, cup of water forgotten. It goes everywhere as he grabs me, and I’m crushed into his chest. His arms wrap around me, and his chin rests on top of my head.

“You’re the best, babe.”

My nose wrinkles. He smells like sweat and blood. I shove him away.

“Don’t mention it.”

“No, I will mention it to everyone. Willow Reed is the best. She’s forgiven me for my deepest sins. She’s going to tell my brother to forgive me—”

“Ah, no.” I frown. “While I get what you did on some twisted level, I don’t think he’ll understand it.”

Knox scowls. He takes a seat again, dropping down like I freaking popped his balloon. “Well, one day, Miles will pay me back in revenge, and we’ll be even.”

Hmm.

“You’d have to fall in love first,” I point out.

He offers me a quick smile. But it’s to hide something else. A flash of pain, maybe? Or just discomfort? “Who says I’m ever going to fall in love?”

I slowly sit back down beside him. “Well, that’s true. You could be impervious.”

“I could be,” he agrees.

Somehow, though, I fucking doubt it. Someone’s going to slip under his guard one day—and when she does, I hope she ruins him.