by Lynn Tyler
He dressed as fast as possible, leaving his equipment scattered all over the floor. Someone would pick it up for him. He didn’t care if they threw the stuff in the damn trash. All that mattered was getting to Jeremy.
Rushing out of the locker room, he almost bowled his wife over. She was standing there, tears pouring down her face. “They wouldn’t let me get in the ambulance with him,” she sobbed.
Nathan’s heart nearly stopped when he thought of Jeremy alone and hurting. Grabbing Rachel, he rushed her down the hall, dodging anyone in their paths, and scooted out a side exit. Patting down his pockets, he realized he’d left his keys, wallet, everything in the locker room. “Where did you park?” he asked Rachel.
She veered to the left and led him deep into the parking lot. After what seemed forever, although it was probably only a few minutes, they made it to the car, and she tossed him her keys.
He started the car as he heard Rachel speaking on her cell phone. At least she’d had the presence of mind to phone the training staff and find out what hospital Jeremy had been taken to. The drive to Toronto General was agonizing. He parked in the emergency room parking lot, and the two of them rushed in.
The nurse at the desk looked at them, assessing them for injuries. “You need to take a number and have a seat. Triage will be with you in a few minutes.”
“No,” Nathan said loudly. “We’re here for Jeremy Reiner. He came through here about half an hour ago.”
She consulted her notes and then looked up at them sympathetically. “Mr. Reiner was taken up to surgery a few minutes ago. There’s a special waiting room.” She gave them directions to get there, and they trooped up the stairs rather than wait for the elevator.
Nathan sat in a hard chair, ignoring the lump digging into his back, and pulled Rachel into his lap, burying his face in her hair. He closed his eyes and immediately opened them again. All he could see when he closed his eyes was the image of Jeremy’s leg snapping as it slammed into the boards. By the time the paramedics had made it to him, a pool of blood had been forming on the ice. He could only assume that whatever bone had been broken had come through the skin as well. It had been a gruesome sight, but the scarier sight had been the dreamy, unfocused look on Jeremy’s face as he’d been wheeled out of the arena.
“Excuse me?”
Looking up, he saw a nurse staring at them. She was wearing the pastel green scrubs common to all hospitals and had a no-nonsense look on her face. “Are either of you Nathan or Rachel Vaughan?”
“Yeah,” Nathan croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m Nathan, and this is Rachel.”
The nurse’s expression softened, and she smiled gently at them. “Mr. Reiner was very insistent you be kept informed of his condition.”
He looked at her expectantly. “He’s in surgery now and in stable condition.”
Rachel stuffed her fist into her mouth as her eyes filled again.
“Can you tell me what’s wrong with his leg? I saw a lot of blood,” Nathan said, desperate for any information the nurse would hand out.
The nurse checked her notes and looked up. “I’m only telling you this because Mr. Reiner was so insistent on you being kept up to date and because he has no next of kin. His tibia and fibula on his right leg snapped. The blood was from the tibia, which suffered a compound fracture. His ankle, knee, and femur all have stress fractures.”
The nurse disappeared down the hall after promising to come back as soon as any new information became available. Nathan wrapped his arms around Rachel’s waist and rocked her gently, as he would have a small child. She held still, seeming to understand that he was deriving just as much comfort from holding her as she was.
The rest of the team started trickling in, passing around cups of coffee and talking quietly amongst themselves. Johnston threw himself into the chair next to Nathan and Rachel and let out a deep breath. “Any news?”
Nathan related everything they’d been told, watching Johnston’s already fair complexion pale even further. “He’s never going to play professionally again, is he?”
Shrugging, Nathan settled in for a long wait.
Ten hours later, the surgeon finally made an appearance. “We managed to set Mr. Reiner’s leg nicely, although the chances he’ll ever play hockey professionally again are slim to none. We had to add a rod and some screws to stabilize the tibia. He’ll probably walk with a slight limp and experience arthritic pain occasionally.” The doctor paused to run a weary hand over his face before continuing. “He also lost a lot of blood and had to have a transfusion. He’s in recovery now and will be transferred to his private room when he wakes up.”
The head coach rose and shook hands with the doctor before shooing the rest of the team out of the waiting room. Nathan accepted the knuckle tap from Johnston and looked up at the coach. He wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation. He wanted a couple of days off to spend with Jeremy, but how could he ask for what he needed without revealing the nature of their relationship? He wasn’t ashamed of what the three of them had, but he wasn’t sure how much Jeremy wanted to reveal.
The coach shook his head at him and propped his hands on his hips. “Don’t even ask,” the guy growled, pointing his finger right in his face. “You’re benched for a couple of days. Don’t even bother coming to practice or training. You’d play like shit and would be as mean as fuck anyway.” His face softened as he looked at Rachel, who had passed out a couple of hours ago. “Take care of your family, Nathan. We’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Nathan felt his jaw drop. He’d been expecting to have to fight for some time off, especially since they were well into the season. His coach had just proven he had a soft spot, although Nathan was sure if he revealed it to anyone, he would find himself with less and less ice time.
“Mr. Vaughan?” a soft voice said from behind them. “Mr. Reiner is awake and is asking to see you and Mrs. Vaughan.”
Nathan roused his wife, and the nurse led them down the hall and paused outside a closed door. “This is the recovery room. Usually you wouldn’t be allowed in here, but since there is no one else in recovery, you can see him. I can give you five minutes. After that, you’ll need to come back for visiting hours tomorrow morning.”
Rachel gripped his hand tightly as they walked to the only occupied bed. Jeremy lay prone with his leg in traction, covered with some type of brace. Tubes ran from an IV stand to a port in his arm, and Nathan could just see the bag collecting urine peeking out from under some sort of cover. Jeremy was blinking, clearly trying to bring the room into focus. Hopefully the staff had given him some of the good drugs. Nathan couldn’t stomach the idea of the man he was in love with in pain.
Slowly, Jeremy turned his head their way and gave them a small smile. Rachel let out a sob and rushed to the bed, seizing the hand that didn’t have an IV in it and holding it to her cheek. “Oh, Jer,” she whispered.
Jeremy brushed her tears away clumsily. “Hey, sweetheart. Don’t cry. I’m just thankful my hands are okay. I need them to make my games.”
The need to touch his lover finally got the best of Nathan, and he ran his fingers through Jeremy’s shaggy dark hair. He had to clear his throat several times before he could get his voice to work. “You in any pain, champ?”
Jeremy licked his dry, chapped lips and slowly shook his head. “Naw, old man. They gave me the good stuff.”
A tickle on his cheek irritated him, and Nathan swiped at his cheek, mildly surprised to find his fingers coming away wet. He wished he could cram his body in the tiny bed with Jeremy and just hold him close. Better yet, he wished he had access to a time machine so he could turn back time and make sure this senseless accident hadn’t happened. Since he couldn’t do either, he settled for retrieving a tube of lip balm from his pocket and applying it to Jeremy’s lips.
Jeremy smiled his thanks as his eyes began to flutter closed. Nathan glanced at the clock on the wall. They only had a minute or so left before the nurse came ba
ck to kick them out. He bent down so he could whisper in Jeremy’s ear. “They’re going to kick us out in a minute, Jer,” he explained. “We’ll be back as soon as visiting hours start later this morning. We love you.”
Hazy green eyes peered out at him from under thick black lashes. “You still want me, right?” Jeremy slurred. “Even though I’ll probably never play hockey again?”
Rachel popped her hands on her waist and glared at him, clearly insulted that Jeremy would even think such a thing. “You, Jeremy Reiner, are so much more than hockey. We fell in love with you because, well, because you’re you. So yes, we still want you. We always will.”
Those smoky emerald eyes opened wide in surprise, and Jeremy’s mouth made a little O. “I love you guys, too,” he replied as he drifted off into a drug-induced sleep.
“Good job, honey,” Nathan praised.
They left the hospital and drove home, Rachel muttering about stubborn, stupid males the whole way. She was still muttering to herself when they got into bed. She fell silent when they pulled up the blankets and turned off the light.
“It feels wrong without him here with us,” she said in a small voice.
Nathan had just been thinking the same thing. “We’ll get him back soon.”
Epilogue
Rachel walked through the front door, sorting through the mail as she kicked off her heels. The music was blasting from the open basement door, making her smile. Jeremy worked to heavy metal. The happier he was with his progress on his games, the louder the music got. She didn’t bother calling out to him, knowing he wouldn’t hear her over the music. Instead, she wandered upstairs to the bedroom, where she found Nathan pulling on a pair of shorts.
“Hey, honey,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. “How was your day?”
They chatted for a few minutes while she got changed. “Want to go brave the noise downstairs?” she asked.
Nathan chuckled and scooped her up, carrying her down the stairs and into the basement. They were greeted by the sight of Jeremy hollering with glee at the television screen and swinging the controller around. His right leg was propped up on a stool, crutches lying on the floor beside the couch.
Rachel crossed over to the couch and picked up the crutches, putting them close enough so Jeremy could reach them. “Game going well?”
He seized her wrist and pulled her down to sit next to him, kissing her senseless. He set her aside gently as he arched his neck to accept an equally passionate kiss from Nathan. “It’s done,” he said when he came back up for breath. “I’m just testing it to see if there are any bugs or glitches.”
He handed the other controller to Nathan, and the two of them got down to “testing” the new extreme skiing game Jeremy had been working on.
She was so proud of Jeremy she could burst. It had been a long road to his recovery. When the bones in his leg had refused to heal at twelve weeks post-surgery, his doctors had done a bone graft operation, taking bone from his hip and grafting it on to his poorly healing tibia. It had been an extremely painful operation, and Jeremy had refused to take pain medication shortly after the surgery, terrified of becoming dependent on it. It had broken her heart when she’d heard Jeremy crying in pain late at night when he thought she and Nathan had been sleeping. Physical therapy had worked wonders on his range of motion, but they still had a long way to go. Jeremy had lost a significant amount of weight, mostly muscle mass. He’d started lifting weights again, under his therapist’s supervision, and his overall health was improving every day.
Jeremy had accepted the fact he would never play professional hockey again almost right from the beginning. There had been some bad days, of course, where Jeremy had raged about the injustice of what had happened, but luckily, those had been few and far between. He’d thrown himself into his first love, creating video games, and had sold three to major gaming corporations.
Rachel watched the two men play, keeping an eye on the clock. They were expecting Billy for dinner. Jeremy had struck up quite a friendship with the young reporter, and he’d been over at the house frequently while Jeremy was recovering. It had been impossible to keep the nature of their relationship from Billy with the number of times he’d been over to play video games with Jeremy. To his credit, the young man hadn’t even batted an eyelash. He’d just smiled and told Jeremy he was a lucky bastard.
Billy arrived right on time, bearing three pizzas and a small bag of Chinese takeout. Long past the need for formality, the four of them ate in the kitchen, sipping beer while Nathan and Jeremy got into a heated discussion about the best form of dry land training and whether the goalie, Johnston, really had a dead horse fetish.
“Do you ever miss it?” Billy asked, wiping the pizza sauce from his mouth with a paper napkin. “You never did get your hat trick.”
Jeremy looked thoughtful for a moment and then smiled hugely. “I do miss hockey sometimes,” he confirmed. “But I love making video games and kicking your ass at them.” He paused and winked at her before leaning over to kiss the corner of Nathan’s mouth. “And I think the three of us make a pretty great hat trick.”
Nathan groaned at the bad pun but kissed him fully on the mouth. Jeremy grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stand, yanking her so that she stood between his legs. “Don’t you agree, Mrs. Reiner-Vaughan?”
Cupping his face, she looked from his happy eyes to Nathan’s and smiled back, joy filling her. “Always, Jer. Always.”
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lynn Tyler was born and raised in Southern Ontario and still calls it home today. She married her first and only boyfriend and now they have two beautiful, very active children.
When not writing, Lynn can be found engrossed in her e-reader, and is seriously considering starting a campaign to make chocolate its own food group.
Also by Lynn Tyler
Siren Classic: For Her: For Her Honor
Ménage Amour: Be With Us
Ménage Amour: Superhero, Inc.: SHI Guy
Available at
BOOKSTRAND.COM
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com