CHAPTER TWELVE
Gavin
I didn’t realize I was stuck in my nightmare at first.
It looked so real.
Flames from the crash exploded beside me and the heat seared my eyes. Pain was everywhere, clouding my consciousness with a haze of horror. My leg was bent under the chopper’s propellers and my arm was crammed under my body. Everything hurt. I screamed for help, but I didn’t hear anything but the creak of burning metal and the pop of the flames. The sky was so dark, so endless as I lay there crushed under the wreckage.
A movement caught my eyes, and there she was. Jasmeen stood on the edge of the wreckage, just within view. So close, but so far away. The flames danced in her cool, gray eyes, turning them into mirrors.
I screamed for her, no longer caring for help. The sounds of the wreckage paled and all there was were my screams. She never moved. Never blinked. I wanted her to come to me so badly.
I wanted her to save me.
And I didn’t think it was purely physical anymore.
“Wake up,” her lips said, but no sound came out. “You’re dreaming, Gav. Wake up.”
I gasped awake. The flames from the fire dissipated and the wreckage went with it, tossing me into reality. I was breathing hard and Jas was clutching my face between her grip. Her lips were moving again, but this time I heard her voice.
“You were dreaming.”
Friends? What was I thinking? I didn’t want to be this woman’s friend. I wanted to be her husband again. I had to learn to deal; with her, with my injuries, and with everything else that was set into motion when the engines in that helicopter failed.
“That was a bad one,” I heard her mumble after she’d let my face go.
“Was it?”
“You were screaming for at least ten minutes. You wouldn’t wake up.”
“Must be the pills or something,” I lied, needing a wall between me and that damn nightmare. “What time is it?”
She leaned over to check the time. “A little after four.” She sagged back down. “Gavin, we can’t do that every night.”
I didn’t think I had a choice, but I appreciated her saying we more than she’d ever know. I didn’t want to be alone in this, even though alone was all that I was. “I gotta pee, baby.”
She looked over at me with her eyebrows screwed together. “Okay, let’s pee.”
Getting me out of bed and into my wheelchair was as far as I could go. I couldn’t take the discomfort a second longer. I grabbed for my pills and downed two dry, my hands shaking. “No,” I growled, when she pulled me back to wheel me into the bathroom. “No,” I repeated in defeat.
“You can do it, promise. Just breathe through the pain and don’t lose focus. This entire situation is the same as scoring a goal. Getting it across the ice, keeping the puck safe, and smacking it into the net.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I couldn’t stomach thinking about hockey right now. That hurt my soul almost as much as the pain. Hockey had been my life. I felt more at home on the ice than I felt on my own two feet. Thinking of hockey now sent me into a different kind of hopeless panic. Panic that that part of my life was over.
Not when so much was falling through my fingers.
She wheeled me over to the toilet. “Take your penis out and aim. It’s big enough to not need the reach.”
I wasn’t even in the mood to turn that into a joke. I pulled my cock free and she turned her back as I tried my best to get most of it into the toilet. In the hospital, the nurses slipped a bedpan under me and cleaned up the mess. I made a note to find out their names and send them a shit ton of gifts. They deserved as much for dealing with me.
“What’s going to happen if I have to take a shit?” I reached for the toilet roll near the toilet and tore off a piece, using it to dab at the pee that got on the toilet seat, and then I put my dick back in my pants and just… stared.
“I’ll cut a hole in your chair and put a flower pot underneath. Natural fertilizer.” When I didn’t respond, she sighed. “I’ll help you. That’s what I’m here for. Don’t get caught up with what you can’t do. Think about what you can do.”
I grunted.
“Are you cold?” Her fingers trailed over my bare shoulder, touching the goosebumps that were there. “It’s freezing in here.” She leaned over and caught my gaze. “Talk to me, Gavie.”
My eyes slid shut at the sound of her childhood nickname for me. I could hear her saying it all those years ago, innocent and mine. “Leave me here.”
“I will not leave you here.” She sounded irritated that I’d even suggest it. “Let’s go get some coffee. I’ll even cook you breakfast.”
On the way out of the bedroom, she stole the blanket off the bottom of the bed and draped it over my lap. In the kitchen, she parked me near the island and began working near the coffee maker. I ran a hand through my hair and tugged on my scalp, making sense of my pain with more.
Lance came in as Jasmeen was pouring vanilla coffee creamer into the mug. “Sugar free?” She turned her nose up at it, and then poured extra in hers.
“Mr. Cobalt only drinks sugar free coffee creamer,” he explained in apology.
“Why?” She looked over her shoulder at me.
I shrugged; even that hurt. “Calories.”
“Ah, right. Along with being a pro hockey player, you’re also a model.” She popped the spoon into her mouth and sucked on it, eyes humored. “Pretty boy.”
I had little left that could find anything funny right now. But I could find the beauty in certain things. And her in my kitchen making me coffee was pretty damn beautiful. If I forgot that she’d helped me pee and talked me out of a nightmare. Which I couldn’t. I looked away, out of the windows on the other side of the kitchen; she sighed.
Snow fell on the other side of the glass.
“Sir,” Lance spoke up. I didn’t turn to him. “I’m not sure you’re up to it, but I’ve gotten quite a few calls from your manager.”
I blinked at the snow. I despised the mere mention of dealing with my life. “Fire him.”
Lance paused. “Sir?”
I drug my gaze to meet his. “Fire. Him. Fire everyone. Except yourself. And Jasmeen.”
“Um,” she spoke up. “Don’t you think you should think about that? It’s probably not a bad idea to have someone acting as the middle man right now.”
“She’s right, Sir.” Lance moved for the coffee pot.
Who was the boss here? I glared at her. “I want him fired.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t need a middle man anymore. My career is over.”
“Since when? You’re supposed to be up and running ten miles in no time, Gav. Don’t let your mental state make your choices. You make your choices. Plus,” she murmured, glancing at Lance, who took the hint and left with his mug. “You gave up way too much to let your career fall apart.”
She meant us. I gave us up for my career. I really didn’t want it anymore when she put it like that. “The doctor gave it to me as nicely as he could in the hospital. Best case scenario? I’m ready to play in two years. Two years, baby. That’s a hell of a long time in ice years.”
Her eyes softened. “You’re depressed, Gav. I get it. I totally do. But you need goals right now. You need things to look forward toward, to reach. Trust me. Having nothing to reach for is dangerous.”
Was she depressed? I hated myself knowing she’d felt horrible for even a second. I’m sorry, my heart begged, but my heart knew my lips weren’t allowed to do that anymore. She accepted my apology. But she no longer accepted me.
“Can you help me back into bed?”