Page 166 of Desperate Pucker
I watch him weave around a Boston defenseman on the way to their net.
“How cool would it be if he went for a slapshot?” Dakota says excitedly.
A Boston player cuts across the ice, aiming his shoulder at Ryker’s chest to check him.
Right as he makes contact, his leg hits Ryker’s bad knee. Ryker screams, then falls onto the ice. His stick and gloves go flying
My blood runs cold, and I lose all the breath in my lungs.
“Oh no…” Dakota says.
“Shit,” Bella mutters.
Abby gasps and covers her mouth with both hands.
The ice is chaos. A bunch of Denver players are fighting with the Boston players. Referees and linesmen are struggling to pull them all apart.
But my focus is on Ryker lying on the ice, cradling his knee with both hands, his face twisted in pain.
My stomach curdles. No. This can’t be happening.
I know how tough Ryker is. He doesn’t express when he’s in pain unless it’s really, really bad…
Two trainers from the Bashers bench rush over to him. I can’t hear what they’re saying because I’m so far away, but I can tell it’s not good.
He’s hurt, and it looks bad.
My stomach feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. I feel like I’m gonna be sick.
“He’s gonna be okay, Madeline,” Dakota says. “Look, he’s able to skate off the ice. That’s a good sign.”
I watch as Sam and Camden stand on either side of Ryker, helping him off the ice and into the tunnel.
His face is pale, and he’s still grimacing.
Dakota squeezes my hand. “It’ll be okay,” she repeats. “Sophie’s going to take good care of him.”
I have no doubt Sophie will do everything she can for him. But that’s his bad knee. And that was a hard hit he took.
If his injury is bad, he won’t be able to play in the playoffs anymore.
I quiet the ugly thoughts in my brain. I shouldn’t be thinking like that right now. I need to be positive. I need to be supportive.
I stand up from my seat.
“Where are you going?” Dakota asks.
“I need to be with Ryker.”
Chapter 57
Ryker
Igrit my teeth at the pain searing through my knee as Sophie examines me on the padded table in the medical room. It feels like someone stuck a hot poker through my joint.
She goes through a few range of motion tests.
“What’s your level of pain? On a scale of one to ten,” she asks.
