Page 88 of Lose to Win: Lost Trilogy: Part 3
“You are my lucky charm, Emily Stewart. My trusted lucky puck can be yours,” I say, closing her fingers over the lucky puck.
She looks down at it, then back to me, a faint smile on her full lips.
“Two lucky pucks,” she whispers. “What more can a girl ask for?”
25
Emily
I sighwhen I walk into the restroom at the hospital. Puck was right earlier, I really look a mess, and no one should be allowed to see me like this.
I try to comb my hair wincing in pain when my fingers get stuck in the knots that formed. I give up on that idea and pull on the hairband I happen to have on my wrist, putting all my hair in a high and messy bun.
I splash some water on my face, its coolness feeling so good on my skin. When I bring my head back up, my eyes clash with my own in the mirror, and I freeze.
I look like… me. The same, but also different.
I close my eyes, but all I see is the bullet flying from the gun and connecting to Kenny Adams’ head. Once again, the guilt of taking a life is squeezing my heart in a painful fist. However, that is quickly replaced by the relief I feel at the knowledge that he is now gone, no longer a threat to any of us, especially Puck and the baby I’m carrying.
For a fleeting second, I wonder if I am going to go to prison for this. It was self defense, I try to convince myself, even though he was just lying on the ground at the time of me shooting him. The only harm he was doing in that very moment was only in the words he was spewing at us.
I press a hand to my belly. The small flutter, that I know is a baby kick, centers me. Both my father and Puck assured me that they had everything under control. They are professional criminals after all, both of them. And if I do end up getting arrested for what I did today, I will be at peace with the knowledge that Kenneth Adams would’ve killed us all if given the opportunity. It was him or us. I didn’t want it to be us.
With that resolution in my mind, I finish drying my face and straighten my tank top. The cardigan I put on in what seems like another life feels heavy on one side. Resting in my pocket is Puck’s lucky hockey puck.
I remember when I met Puck for the first time. Me and Becca had just landed in Texas, and he was waiting outside in the car to take us to the hotel.
“I love your name,” I told him, sounding way chipper than I should’ve. I loved him on sight, and I couldn’t contain my flirty side.
He smirked at me, and I about melted into a puddle at his feet. I asked him about his name.
“My brothers call me that,” he confessed in his twangy Texan accent, making my heart beat faster.
“Because you love hockey?”
I laugh out loud at the memory. I am now an official hockey fan myself. If our baby is a boy, I hope he’ll enjoy playing.
“Em,” he now calls from the other side of the door to the bathroom. “You okay in there, babe?”
I pull on the handle, and he about falls at my feet.
“Puck,” I bust out laughing. “I love you so much.”
“Yeah, well…”
I don’t catch what he is saying next. My eyes are fixed on the person who seems to be heading toward me like she is on a mission.
“Hi, Ashley,” I smile at her politely when she stops right in front of me. She is the receptionist at Dr. Patel’s office.
“Hey.” She moves from side to side, looking uncomfortable talking to me. That gets Puck’s attention as well. He puts a protective arm around my shoulders and stops talking.
“Can I help you with anything?” I don’t understand why she’s just staring at me.
“Uh, I wanted to ask if… if… uh…” She is about to cry now, and I am at a loss for words.
“Are you okay?”
“I was wondering if you’ve heard from Steve lately.”
