Brooke

 

I cupped my hands over my mouth as a sick feeling crept into my belly. Not now. This would kill him. I saw the look on his face as he held his leg and let out several screams. He needed me as he was being carried off the ice on a stretcher. Grabbing the bag I brought, I ran out of the suite and asked a security guard where the Rangers’ locker room was.

“It’s below us, but you can’t go in there,” he shouted as I ran.

Pushing my way through the crowds of people that were gathered everywhere, I finally found the locker room and was stopped by a guard.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

Completely out of breath, I spoke, “I’m Logan Jackson’s physical therapist, and he was just carried off the ice on a stretcher. I need to tend to him.”

“Yeah, right.” The burly guy laughed. “Now go back to your seat or I will have you escorted out of here.”

“Gene,” I shouted as I caught a glimpse of him.

He stopped and turned. “Thank God you’re here. Come on.” He waved me through.

After shooting the burly guard a dirty look, I ran to where Gene was standing and he took me to Logan, where the doctor was examining him on the table in the locker room. I didn’t have time to even think about how he was going to react when he saw me. It didn’t matter anyway; I needed to find out what was going on with his leg.

“Out of my way,” I spoke to the doctor as I practically pushed him to the side and reached into my bag for the nerve conductor machine.

“Brooke? What the—”

“Hey, you.” I smiled as I ran the wand up and down his leg.

“Excuse me, miss.” The doctor scowled.

“Let her do her thing, doc,” Gene spoke.

“Nerves are functioning at one hundred percent.” I smiled at Logan.

Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a small bottle and a syringe. After filling the syringe, I injected it into Logan’s leg.

“You know the drill, Jackson. Give it a few minutes.”

“I don’t understand. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Long story and we can talk later.”

Suddenly, the Capitals scored, tying the game one to one at the end of the third period and on a power play.

“Ah, shit!” Gene yelled as he grabbed his head.

“Put me in, coach. I can score the winning goal.”

“Are you fucking crazy?”

I looked at Logan, who was staring at me with the eyes that mesmerized me every time. I gave him a small smile as I spoke to Gene, “Put him in.”

“Are you sure?” He looked at me.

“If he says he can play, then you need to trust him.”

“Fine.” Gene shook his head and walked away.

I placed his shin guard back on his leg, pulled his pant leg down, and then put on his skate.

“Now get out there and be a hero.” I smiled as I exited the locker room.

He didn’t cuss me out. That was a good sign. He didn’t go into a fit of rage. Another good sign. As I was heading back to the suite, Brandon lightly grabbed hold of my arm from behind.

“Hey. How is he? Did you see him?”

“He’s okay. I gave him a shot and he’s going to be back out there during overtime.”

He let out a sigh of relief.

“Go take my seat and I’ll go to the suite. You should be in that row watching him.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“Yes. I’m positive. Now go and tell the family he’s okay.”

I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you.”

“No. Thank you, Brooke.” He winked.

Once I reached my seat, Owen and his father both stared at me.

“He’s fine. He’ll be back on the ice shortly.”

“So you saw him?” Owen asked.

“Yes.”

“And yet he didn’t kill you?” He smiled.

“Nah. He’s probably waiting until after the game to do that.” I smirked.

****

Logan

I couldn’t believe she was here. Maybe she did have feelings for me. Who the hell knew after what she put me through the last three weeks. But the fact that she flew all the way from California to attend my first game meant something to me.

“You sure about this, Logan?” Gene asked as he placed his hand on my shoulder.

“I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life as I am about this. Trust me, coach. I can do this. Being defeated isn’t an option for this team.”

“Go get ‘em!” he spoke with excitement.

As I stepped onto the ice with the other team members, the crowd cheered and whistled. The pain in my leg wasn’t completely gone, but it wasn’t going to stop me from finishing this game and taking the win.

I looked directly at Machard and gave the indication that after the game, he was mine.

“Well, holy bells,” the announcer spoke. “Lightning Logan is back on the ice. I don’t believe it.”

I took my position. When I looked over to where my family sat, I saw Brooke sitting there. She gave me two thumbs-up and, instantly, I knew I had to do this for her.

The control of the puck went to the Capitals.

“No. I don’t think so,” I spoke as I swooped in from behind and stole it back.

Racing down the center, defense came at me like mountain lions after their prey. Swerving around each one of them, making a couple of them fall, I took the puck to the net. Ten seconds left. I went to the right, the goalie followed, and like the speed of lightning, I shot it in to the left, watching the puck bounce beautifully off the back of the net. The buzzer sounded. The crowd roared.

“He scores! The New York Rangers win this game against the Capitals two to one!”

I raised my stick in the air and looked over at Brooke, who was standing on the chair cheering for me with a wide grin splayed across her face. My team raced to me, laughing and cheering as we hugged, taking in the victory that was ours.

I threw my stick down and looked at Machard. He threw his down as I took off my gloves and skated over to him.

“You ready?” I asked.

“You bet I am. You going to fight back this time?” He smiled.

“I sure am.” I grinned.

“Let’s go.”

I grabbed his jersey and he ducked as I threw a punch at him. Coming up, he jammed his fist into my side. Fuck, that hurt. I swung him around and grabbed the back of his neck as his fist came at me again. Slamming his head against the glass, I punched him in the face and the rush of blood poured from his nose. One more swing from him right across my eye. Just before I could pound into him again, the refs broke us apart. Machard looked at me with a smile.

“Welcome back, Jackson. You’re one hell of a fighter.”

“Thanks, Machard. I owe it all to one special woman.” I smiled as I skated off the ice.