Power Play (Portland Storm Book 16)

by Catherine Gayle

  Bergy stood between us. He took a long, appraising look at me before turning to Vinny. “Give him hell,” he said, just before dropping the puck.

  Not that Vinny or any of the rest of the boys needed any encouragement to test me. We all needed to believe I was ready to take on anything the other teams decided to throw my way. If my coaches and teammates didn’t believe I could do it, the boys might try to help me out instead of doing their own jobs on the ice.

  But that wasn’t what Vinny intended here. He knew his role, and today his job was to use every trick in the book to test me. Sure enough, Vinny pulled off a few moves I didn’t even realize he had in his arsenal to beat me, including angling his body so that he could block my stick.

  Bergy didn’t step in or make any attempt to stop him, not even when he was cheating blatantly, but it didn’t matter.

  I wasn’t going to let anyone get the better of me.

  I moved my skate in to block Vinny’s stick and got my blade on the puck about a nanosecond before he would have, pulling it back to Cody Williams, better known to the guys as Harry because of his ginger-haired good looks that reminded everyone of the British prince.

  Vinny whacked at my skates, but there was a big shit-eating grin taking up half his face as he did it. “Nice to have you back. I’ll fucking kick your ass next time, though.”

  “I’d like to see you try,” I shot back, but I was already skating away from him so I could get into position to complete the drill.

  Harry passed the puck to Burnzie, who skated it into the offensive zone and sent it over to Babs. Once the forwards had control, we pulled off a tic-tac-toe move, between Babs, Ghost, and me. I was the last to touch the puck, dropping it behind me so one of the D could get off a slapper toward the goal. Burnzie’s shot sailed high over the goal, hitting the glass so hard I was surprised it didn’t shatter.

  “Be glad that wasn’t my head,” Nicky called out as we skated over to the bench so the next two lines could take their turns at the drill.

  “If I wanted to take you out, I would have,” Burnzie called back. “Good thing I like you.”

  “More like you need me since you’re a slow, crippled, old man.”

  “Who’s old?” Soupy joked, lining up near the face-off dot for the next drill.

  I noticed he didn’t argue with the crippled part.

  “If anyone needs a walker out here, it’s me,” Hammer said, slowly skating into position, bent over with a hand on the small of his back. “I’m getting older by the second, so can we fucking get on with this? I’m growing gray hairs while you boys argue.”

  “All right, old man,” Cole Paxton, his defensive partner, said, not that Colesy was all that much younger than Hammer. “You can soak in Epsom salts later. We’ve got a job to do now. Besides, you’re already gray.”

  “Only a little gray,” Hammer replied, sounding faux-wounded.

  Yeah, Hammer was getting up there in years, but he was still the strongest guy on the team by a mile, and everyone knew it. Especially the younger guys. They marveled at how much Hammer could bench-press in the gym. It seemed as though every year, Hammer came back stronger than the year before. The guy was hard as a rock and the toughest son of a bitch I’d ever known. I was always glad he was on my side and not playing for the other team.

  We went through a few more rounds of the current drill before Bergy and the rest of the coaches had us line up for the next one on the schedule. I was just getting into position when Archie lumbered out to the bench area and spoke to the coaches at the bench.

  The next thing I knew, David Weber, one of our assistant coaches, was waving me over. “RJ! You’d better go with Archie. Jim Sutter needs you.”

  Jim Sutter was our general manager. We’d already passed the trade deadline, though, so I didn’t have any idea what he might need to talk to me about that was important enough to drag me out of my first practice back.

  Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

  My feet felt like lead in my skates as I headed toward the bench. Several of the guys slapped me on the back in camaraderie as I went, and Ghost followed me all the way to the boards.

  “What’s up?” I asked, dreading the answer. Maybe Doc had changed his mind and was taking me off the ice. Maybe they’d found some loophole in the Collective Bargaining Agreement that allowed them to trade me after the deadline had already passed, something to do with my injury keeping me out at the deadline and making me untradeable at the time. Granted, I knew that wasn’t a possibility, but my brain was going about a hundred miles an hour, and all of it was bad.

  Archie just angled his head toward the tunnel and started walking that way.

  “Is it all right if I go with him?” Ghost asked the coaches.

  They nodded, and the two of us hurried to catch up with Archie.

  Mr. Sutter was waiting in the tunnel, wearing a somber expression that I couldn’t interpret. “It’s Mackenzie,” he said without preamble, and the ground just about slipped out from under me.

  “What’s wrong with her? What happened? Is she worse?” This was only the first time I’d had to leave her, of what was sure to be many. I couldn’t handle it if… Hell, I couldn’t even let my mind go there.

  But in lieu of answering me, Mr. Sutter held out his own cell phone to me.

  After a moment, I realized the screen was lit up. Meaning Mackenzie was on the phone.

  She needed me.

  She needed me right now.

  I grabbed the cell from the general manager’s hand and pressed it to my ear in a panic. “What’s wrong? What is it? Are you okay? You’re worse now, aren’t you? Do you need to go to the doctor? You should just go to the hospital. Don’t’ even mess with going to the doctor first.”

  “Slow down and let her talk,” Ghost said, and I knew he was right, but it was hard to rein myself in because I could hear Mackenzie sniffling on the other end of the line.

  “It’s Lola,” she finally said.

  “Lola?”

  The world might as well have started spinning right then, because I felt more light-headed than I could ever remember feeling before. Ghost had to reach out a hand to steady me so I wouldn’t fall.

  “She’s sick and I don’t know what to do.”

  “SHE’S VOMITING AND won’t get up to come get in the truck, and I can’t pick her up because she’s way too heavy, and nothing I do seems to help, and Max just keeps whining and nudging her with his nose and then running over to me to get me to do something, but there’s nothing I can do and I don’t know how to make him understand. I tried calling Grady for help, but he’s dealing with another sick dog already and he didn’t answer, and I swear, I was keeping a close eye on them, I really was, and—”

  “Slow down,” Riley said into the phone. “You’ve got to stay calm. Panicking won’t help anything. It’ll just freak the dogs out, which is the last thing you need right now, all right?”

  “I’m trying.” God, was I ever trying. But Riley had barely been gone for a couple of days, and I’d already screwed everything up. If his dog died on my watch, he’d never forgive me.

  Heck, I’d never forgive myself.

  This couldn’t be happening. But it was.

  “Take a breath for me, okay?”

  Take a breath. Yeah. I could do that. I pinched my eyes closed and filled my lungs, but a fresh wave of tears spilled out on the exhalation.

  “Better?” Riley asked.

  Not even a tiny bit, but I said, “A little,” just to appease him, but then a massive sob tore through me and ruined the effect of my bravado.

  He sighed.

  “I’m sorry,” I forced out. “I’m trying. I really am.”

  “I know you are.”

  I bit down hard on my lower lip, hoping that would do the trick. It seemed to shock my system enough that I could get a grip, at least for a moment. “I’m better.”

  “Okay. So Lola’s vomiting? Is she vomiting a lot or was it just once? Because sometimes
she eats too fast and then it all comes back up, but she’s really fine. If it’s all solid-looking pieces, that’s probably all it is.”

  “She’s not fine. This was a lot. Three times in the backyard at least, when I took them out a bit ago, and once more in the kitchen. The last time it was almost all liquid, nothing solid at all. Kind of brownish-tannish looking. And it’s been hours since I fed them, anyway. If it was because she ate too fast, wouldn’t that have happened right away?”

  “Yeah, it would’ve been pretty soon after you fed them. All right. Is she getting much up with it or just hacking and trying to puke?”

  “I don’t—I’m not…” I was panicking again, which stole my ability to think, my ability to form coherent words and put them into sentences that made any sense at all. I had to calm down. Riley was depending on me, and so were Max and Lola. What a fiasco. “No, not that much, really,” I finally said. “It’s mostly liquid.”

  It might seem like a lot for a human, but Lola wasn’t a human. She was a lot bigger than me, so I had to keep it all in perspective.

  When I’d been sick yesterday, it’d seemed like everything I’d eaten for the last week had come out. But this was primarily just bile. There wasn’t anything solid to it.

  “She’s mainly just choking at something now,” I said, “like she’s trying to get something up but it’s stuck. Oh God. Could she have caught this stomach bug from me? Did I make her sick? Riley, please tell me she’s not sick because of me.”

  Even as I said the words, she let out another barking choke that churned my insides, but nothing came up from either of us, thank goodness. If I wasn’t careful, I might toss my cookies again, too. Especially if she puked on me.

  Clearly, I was not cut out to be a dog owner. Not if I couldn’t handle one of them being sick.

  And what would I do if we ever had kids and one of them got sick? Would I be any better at being a mom with a vomiting child? Probably not, now that I thought about it. Good thing I’d never wanted to become a nurse. This wasn’t something I could handle on a day-to-day basis.

  “That didn’t sound very good,” Riley said, dragging me back to the moment at hand.

  “It sounded worse earlier. When something actually came up.”

  “I believe it,” he said. “But I need you to understand something. She’s not sick because of you. Promise. Most diseases don’t pass from species to species like that.”

  “You’re sure?” I asked in a pleading tone, as if he could make it true whether it was or not.

  “Positive.”

  Even if Riley was only telling me whatever he thought would make me feel better and get me to calm down, it was having the desired effect. Gradually, my anxiety started to ease up until finally I could breathe again.

  Lola was lying on the couch beside me, her head draped across my lap. The moment that she’d rested her head on me was when I’d known, without a doubt, that something was really, truly, horribly wrong. Because Lola didn’t cuddle with me.

  Max did, but never Lola.

  She was Riley’s dog through and through, always choosing to sleep by his side and curl up with him at every possible opportunity. She allowed me to pet her and to walk her, but that was about the extent of our relationship.

  I was a poor substitute for her daddy, if you could even call me that. Definitely not mommy material.

  The best that could typically be said was that she didn’t try to kill me. The first night Riley had been gone, she’d slept on his side of the bed, never venturing close enough to touch me. The second night hadn’t been much different. The fact that she was curled up against me and pitifully shoving her head into my hands so I’d pet her was all it took to let me know just how miserable she felt.

  This was way worse than whatever bug I’d been dealing with the last couple of days.

  “Okay,” Riley said. “So let’s come up with a plan.

  “Okay?”

  His voice had a soothing effect on me, and the less tension there was racing through my body, the calmer the dogs seemed to be. Which meant I had to figure out a way to stay calm through all of this, no matter what happened. If I lost it, they would, too, and an out-of-control dog was the last thing I needed. Two out-of-control dogs would be well beyond my ability to handle, particularly when they were this big.

  “Have you called my veterinarian?” he asked.

  I nodded before remembering he couldn’t see me. “I did. But they need me to bring Lola in to their office, which I can’t do.” Then I reiterated the fact that Grady wasn’t answering his phone. Which was horrible timing, really. Not that I could blame him for having other clients who needed his help, but still.

  “Right.” Riley’s voice sounded strained. Chances were high that he was still coming up with our plan on the fly. “Fuck.”

  He could say that one again.

  “What about Anne?” I asked. Not that I thought Anne and I combined would be able to get this dog into the SUV. Lola was enormous, and neither of us were very big or strong.

  “Anne’s a good thought,” Riley said.

  “She’s a start, at least.”

  “Anne can help,” I heard someone else say in the background. It sounded like Nate.

  “Can you call her?” Riley asked.

  “Already on it.”

  More voices joined the mix in the background, until I couldn’t make anything out.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, because I wasn’t sure if Riley was still with me or if he’d dropped the phone to talk to someone.

  “Sorry. More of the guys are trying to help out. Give me a minute.”

  Lola whimpered, almost as if she’d understood what he said.

  “Hurry,” I pleaded, because every second that ticked by made me think I was that much closer to letting Riley’s dog die on my watch.

  “Anne’s not answering,” I heard in the background.

  “Fuck,” Riley muttered again. Then, “Hold on. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Let me call Sara,” someone said.

  Then another one piped up with, “Brie can get the number for our mobile vet. Hold on.”

  “Mobile vet?” I repeated, latching onto the idea like it was a lifeline.

  “We’re getting a number for you,” Riley said.

  “Can they come to me? To Lola?” It seemed too good to be true, the idea that I wouldn’t have to find a way to get her to the vet but that they could come to us.

  He was quiet for a minute, followed by a bunch of muffled voices. He must have put his hand over the mouthpiece so he could talk to Nate and whomever else might be standing nearby.

  Lola whimpered on my lap, and the sound clawed at my stomach. I didn’t know what to do for her, and it was killing me. I scratched her head, near her ears, and Max licked her paw a few times before licking my hand, too, as if he were trying to comfort us both. It was hard to believe I’d ever been afraid of him. He was such a sweet, gentle creature. Huge, yes, but very loving.

  None of our ministrations seemed to have any effect on Lola, though. She just lay there looking pitiful and making pathetic sounds that broke my heart.

  Finally, Riley came back on the phone. “Brie’s going to call the mobile vet they sometimes use. She’ll get them to come to you, okay? And once they’re on the way, Brie’s going to come over, too, so she can help you out.”

  “The vet’s going to come here?” I repeated because I couldn’t quite believe it even though it was exactly what I had been hoping for. More than I’d hoped for, actually.

  “Yeah. They’ve got a truck, kind of like a food truck, only it’s set up for veterinary work. They might not be able to help Lola there if she needs surgery, but they can at least help you figure out what’s wrong with her and transport her to the animal hospital for you.”

  “You think she needs surgery?” I spluttered.

  “I don’t know what she needs, baby doll. But they’ll help you figure it out.”

  Baby doll. He hadn’
t called me that in a while. It took me back to our days in Cabo, when everything had seemed like a dream. Back before reality had set in.

  This wasn’t a dream. This was no fairy tale. This was as real as it could get.

  “Okay,” I said, as resolutely as I could manage. I could handle this. Whatever it was, I could handle it. Riley was counting on me. And Max and Lola—especially Lola right now—were counting on me, too.

  “I need you to be strong,” Riley said. “For Max and Lola. And for me.”

  Oh, who was I kidding? If that was what he needed in a wife, he needed a different wife. Because I wasn’t strong. I was the least strong person I knew.

  I was an utter wreck.

  BEFORE THE MOBILE vet arrived, Brie Burns and her two-year-old son, Garrett, showed up at the house.

  “It’s going to be fine,” she assured me, letting Garrett down on the floor to distract Max while she sat next to me and Lola on the couch. “Pepper, our border collie mix, ate one of Garrett’s diapers last summer. Luckily not one the little guy had worn yet, but it still did plenty of damage. Got caught in her intestines, and she had to have surgery. That’s probably all this is, which means Lola should be up and terrorizing you again in no time at all.” She glanced over at my face for a moment, then patted the back of my hand. “Just trying to make you laugh.”

  I was probably white as a ghost, which was why she felt the need to make jokes. I forced a smile for her benefit, because she obviously didn’t know about my fears, or at least not enough about them to realize that wasn’t something I could joke about. “I know she’ll be all right,” I said to go along with her. But really, I knew nothing of the sort.

  The doorbell rang, and Brie got up to answer it with Max and Garrett close on her heels. When they returned, a man in scrubs with dog bones all over them followed. Brie kept Max and Garrett off to the side, letting them play together while I spoke with the doctor.

  “Dr. Morganstern,” he said to me before kneeling on the ground in front of the couch. “My technician is just getting a few things ready in the truck, but he’ll be here in a minute. I take it this is our patient?”