Page 118 of Set the Moment
I’mmaking that horrid sound, and my arms feel like it’s hanging on by a thread.
I roll my head back, my brain pounding against my skull has me wishing that I played something less dangerous like golf.
My right wrist is limp. The colors are a devastating painting of angry purple and red swirls. Had this been any other circumstance, I would say that this work of art is beautiful, but it's not.
It’s painful.
“Does it hurt—”
“Fucking hell, Wilder! Do you see him? Of course it hurts.” Braxton sighs exasperatedly, rubbing his gloved hand over his face.
My eyes track the movement before landing back on my ungloved hand and wrist before shifting a little bit away to the ice, my glove lying just a few feet away from the puck that I’d almost scored a goal with.
“CAN. YOU. HEAR—”
“I’m not fucking deaf, my wrist is fucked up,” I snap at Charlie as he sighs, a guilty sheen in his eyes as they land on my wrist.
“Let’s go…Give them some space,” Blake directs the rest of the guys. I hadn’t even noticed we were surrounded by players from both teams until our team's medics appeared on the ice.
“We saw everything, Heart…Ready?” Jonae, our newest medic asks, wrapping an arm around my waist as our other medic, Kai, does the same.
I don’t answer them as they usher me off the ice and into their office where we have our physicals and evaluations. I watch in complete silence as the two of them lower the medical chair for me, a sheet of new dressing on it, before hopping on.
I need Sienna here with me. She’d make me laugh or at least tell me that everything will be fine and hockey's overrated.
I chuckle softly, thinking about the times she’d tried to convince me to switch to dance as a kid instead of doing hockey.
If Sienna were here, all of this pain festering in my most used limb wouldn’t be here. I’d still be on the damn ice and she’d be watching me score.
It’s only been a few hours, but God, I miss her.
Maybe she was right to be anxious a few hours ago. Had I listened to her, I wouldn’t have a potentially broken wristandpride right now.
Never in my life has something like this happened to me. I drink my milk, eat all the protein in the world, and eat sea moss daily to keep my immune system and bones healthy.
I’ve never broken a single bone in my body.
Fuck.
Resting my head back, I close my eyes as the throbbing pain in my wrist continues. Maybe if I just close my eyes and envision her, my wrist will be healed when I open them.
The room is eerily quiet, the only sound to be heard being the light footsteps of the medics as they gather supplies. My body lulls, the vibrations of pain coming in and out like waves just as I try to calm myself down.
“How’s your—”
“You idiot! Did you not see that bastard coming up to you? I can’t get a hold of anyone—Sienna, your mom, hell, I tried to call freaking Jackson!”
And there goes my calm…
I pop open an eye as Georgia storms into the room, smoke trailing behind her as her laser green eyes zero in on me. Rolling my own and closing them again, I sigh.
She’s overreacting.
“Mom’s probably working, and so is–”
“IcalledSienna.” The stress and emphasis on the word ‘called’ has both of my eyes opening, tilting my head. I note Georgia’s body language. It’s stiff and tight like a coiled screw. She stands with her shoulders damn near to the moon and her green eyes are wild.
My pulse skyrockets and I’m on my feet in an instant, the throbbing pain in my wrist dull as fear grasps me in its clutches. Sienna has been worried all day about something happening, and now she isn’t answering her phone? That’s the only thing she does. She’s never more than five feet away from the device. Ever.
