Winning it All (Men of the Ice Book 3)

by Michele Shriver

  “I’m guessing you’re not talking about the billiard ball,” Dani said, making Trevor laugh.

  Of course she wouldn’t understand drug slang. She was so good, so pure. Way too good for him. “No, sorry. An eight ball of cocaine, meaning an eighth of an ounce, or 3.5 grams.” 3.5 grams of coke cost him his 3.5 million dollar per year contract. Such perfect numerical symmetry. “I plead no contest to the charge, got probation, with the understanding that the case would be dismissed without judgment if I completed my probation. The team turned out to be a lot less lenient than the court.”

  Trevor leaned over the balcony, watching the Los Angeles traffic below. It was probably a good thing he hadn’t been in a high rise building the day he’d gotten the call from the Hurricanes’ General Manager, because in that moment, he thought he’d lost everything.

  “I’m sorry, Trev,” Dani said.

  “I’m not,” he answered with no hesitation. “I think I needed it to happen. I needed to hit that lowest point so I could finally start to pick up the pieces.” He exhaled. “Stage Two, inpatient treatment, a lot of apologies, and I finally got the call from my agent that the new franchise in San Antontio was willing to take a flyer on me. One year, one million.” It was a far cry from what he’d once earned, and peanuts compared to anyone else in the Generals’ top six, but Trevor hadn’t cared. It was a chance. “So here we are.”

  “And you’re doing great,” Dani said.

  Trevor shook his head, even though they were a thousand miles apart and she couldn’t see him. “No, I’m doing okay. It’ll always be a struggle. I’m grateful for the opportunity, though. Especially since it led me back to you.”

  “I’m glad for that, too, Trevor, and I’m proud of you for what you’ve done. Thanks for opening up to me.”

  “Thanks for listening. Hopefully it helped take your mind off your own worries.”

  “It did, yes,” Dani said.

  “Then it was worth it.” Trevor walked back inside his room and slid the door closed. “It’s getting late there. I better let you go. I think I will go round up Rollins for that movie.”

  “Okay. Good night, Trev. And good luck tomorrow.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “I love you, Dani. I never stopped loving you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Trevor ended the call before Dani could reply, which was a relief to her. She had no idea what she would have said if pressed for an answer. There were feelings there, for sure. Feelings she’d tried to bury a dozen years before, but never quite succeeded, and that burst forth to the surface upon seeing him again. Dani wasn’t prepared to acknowledge them to Trevor, though. At least not until she had the chance to process what it all meant.

  Besides, at the moment she had other things on her mind, and one in particular. Kaylen’s bone marrow aspiration and biopsy were done that morning, but it would be a couple of days before the results were in. In spite of her anxiety over what the tests would show, Dani tried her best to put on a brave, upbeat face in front of her daughter.

  Kaylen had been a trooper during the procedure, only crying a little bit when the tool twisted into her bone to take the sample. Fortunately, the pain seemed to be short-lived and Kaylen bounced back quickly. Within a few hours, she only complained of minimal discomfort in the pelvic bone area, where the sample was taken from.

  Dani brought ice cream in Kaylen’s favorite flavor, chocolate chip cookie dough, and they settled in to watch the Generals game on TV. Dani even arranged with the nursing staff not to come into Kaylen’s room during the game unless it was absolutely essential. Even if there was no such thing as ‘normalcy’ for a child with cancer, Dani wanted her daughter to have as many semi-normal experiences as possible, and that meant enjoying a hockey game without being interrupted by nurses for another vitals check.

  “You ready to cheer your boys on?” Dani asked, as they watched the players take the ice. She knew how badly the team wanted—and needed—a win after the disappointing loss to Dallas on Friday.

  “Ready.” Kaylen grinned. In spite of the increased fatigue she’d been suffering from, she always seemed to get up for hockey. She was seated up in her bed, sporting her Generals jersey and ball cap on her bald head.

  “Me too.” Dani adjusted her chair to try to get a better view of the wall-mounted TV, and suddenly had a thought. She jumped up and pulled her phone out of her pocket, switching it to camera mode. “Smile,” she instructed.

  Kaylen did, the happy grin of just a minute ago, and Dani snapped her picture.

  “Why’d you do that?” Kaylen asked.

  Dani shrugged. “Just felt like it. So we can remember this.” And so I can send it someone later. She studied the picture, deeming it perfect. Trevor would surely appreciate it, knowing his biggest fan had been cheering him on, and hopefully to victory.

  ***

  Becker earned the shutout and the first star of the game in the Generals 2-0 victory over the Kings, but Trevor had both goals and was named the second star. He didn’t care much about silly recognition from the home team’s broadcasters anyway. The victories were what counted, especially if the team was going to make the playoffs. He’d be lying if he said the individual stats didn’t matter, though. Of course they did. Especially if Trevor wanted to earn a new contract that would keep him in the San Antonio for the remainder of his career. And after reconnecting with Dani, he didn’t see how he could ever leave again.

  One of the team’s post-game rituals was the award of a silly toy holster to the player of the game. As Trevor sat down in front of his locker and began to remove his gear, the team’s captain, Colton Tremblay, and Alternate Captains, Alex Gray and Ryder Carrigan, stepped forward, with Coach Moreau behind them.

  Colton held out the holster. “Trev, this is yours to wear, at least until tomorrow night’s game.”

  “Mine? Seriously? What about Beck?”

  From two locker stalls down, the goalie shook his head. “I just stopped pucks from going into our net. Without you putting two in the back of theirs, we’d probably be in a shootout right now.”

  “Thanks, guys.” Trevor accepted the holster from Colton and strapped it on. “I appreciate it.” It might look silly, but the only people who saw it were the guys in the locker room, and it was an honor to wear it.

  “You played a great game, Trev,” the coach said. “More like that, and you can count on wearing that holster more.”

  Was that a hint that if he kept playing well, he would earn the new contract he coveted so much? Maybe it was just talk and he shouldn’t read anything into it. After all, it was the General Manager, not Coach Moreau, that made the contract decisions.

  “Thanks, guys, I appreciate this, and I will keep fighting hard for our team. Every night.” Trevor pulled his phone out of his locker stall, where it had been the entire game, and turned it on. He held it out to take a selfie of himself wearing the holster.

  As he snapped the photo, his phone buzzed, indicating a new text message. It was from Dani.

  Your biggest fan, ready to watch the game, it read, followed by a picture of Kaylen all decked out in Generals gear. A knot formed in Trevor’s throat as he read it, obviously sent a few hours before. It was past midnight in San Antonio now. Had they stayed up to see the whole game?

  He typed in a quick reply. Thanks for the support. It paid off, as you can see. Rocking the holster. He hit ‘send’ and followed it up with the picture he’d just taken. Given the time difference, Dani might not get the message until tomorrow, but hopefully it would make her smile when she did.

  ***

  Dani woke to the chime of her phone and reached for it, disoriented. It was a text from Trevor, along with a picture of himself wearing a cheesy toy gun holster over his sweaty team T-shirt. It was a silly picture, but she couldn’t help but smile. He looked so happy, and that could only mean good things.

  What time was it? Obviously, the game was over. The last thing she remembered was Trevor scoring early in the second per
iod to put the Generals ahead by one. She must have fallen asleep after that, and Kaylen, too, as her daughter was now sound asleep, Generals cap still on her head.

  Dani rubbed sleep from her eyes a nurse pushed the door open. “Is it safe to come in here now?”

  “Yes, of course.” She’d almost forgotten her plea to keep everyone out of the room until the game was over. “I guess I fell asleep, and so did Kaylen.”

  The nurse nodded. “Yeah, it’s late. I need to check some vitals, but I waited until the game was over.”

  “Thanks,” Dani said. “So did the Generals win?” She figured they had, based on Trevor’s text, but wanted to be sure.

  “They sure did. Collison scored twice.” The nurse, Becky, smiled. “I hope he stays in San Antonio.”

  Me too, Dani thought. Me too.

  Chapter Ten

  Dani was far too tired to stay up to watch the Generals game against the Ducks on Monday night, and settled for texting Trevor to wish him good luck. He replied by asking her about Kaylen, and again she deflected the question, telling him she wouldn’t really know anything until the next day when she found out the test results.

  Now the next day had arrived, and Dani found herself wringing her hands as she paced the conference room waiting for Dr. Russell. After a few minutes of agony, he knocked on the door and entered, accompanied by a female doctor Dani had never met before. “Good morning, Ms. Greer,” Dr. Russell greeted her. “This is Dr. Jen Cook. She’s a specialist in blood disorders, and I consulted with her regarding Kaylen’s test results and asked her to join me for this meeting today.”

  “Sure, fine,” Dani said. “It’s nice to meet you.” Just not under these circumstances. “You have the results, then?”

  “We do, yes,” Dr. Russell said, then nodded at his colleague.

  “I’ve reviewed the CBC and the blood smear, and examined the bone marrow samples,” Dr. Cook explained. “With those, we now have the M/E Ratio and Differential and—”

  “Plain English, please,” Dani urged. Working in the legal profession, she knew how frustrated people got with complicated legal terminology. She was fine with legalese, but the medical jargon went straight over her head.

  “Of course. M/E Ratio is short for myeloid/ethyroid, and compares the number of myeloid cells, or white blood cell precursors, to ethyroid cells, with are red blood cell precursors,” Dr. Cook said. “A normal ration is usually between two to one and four to one.”

  Dani nodded, trying to follow. “Okay.”

  “Kaylen’s M/E ration is elevated, at six to one,” Dr. Russell said. “Which represents abnormal cell activity. We also noticed an increase in leukemic cells.”

  Dani had tried to mentally prepare herself to get the news, but hearing it now she questioned whether it was ever possible to really prepare, and had difficulty finding her voice. “So the chemo treatments aren’t working.”

  Dr. Russell shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. The problem with chemotherapy is that sometimes the cancer cells are too smart, and find ways to resist the drugs, and as a result, the drugs lose their effectiveness. I’m afraid that’s what happened here. When the leukemia came back after remission, the abnormal cells were resistant to the treatment. We’re not making any headway in beating them back.”

  “Isn’t there something else we can do?” Dani asked. “A different chemo drug, maybe?” There were thousands of them, after all. Certainly something would work.

  It was Dr. Cook who answered, and her expression was somber. “A different drug isn’t the answer. I’m very sorry, but our best option is to place Kaylen on the bone marrow transplant list and try to find a donor match as quickly as possible.”

  The words were a blur after that, as the medical professionals explained the process. Dani nodded her head a few times and tried to follow along, and of course she’d be tested and any other relatives would too, but it was all so much to absorb. She’d gone from thinking her little girl had beaten this insidious disease, to the feeling that all hope was fading, and in less than a year’s time.

  She stayed in the conference room after the doctors left, trying to take it all in. She needed to check on Kaylen, see how she was. And of course, she should call into work, at least let know what was going on. But Dani wasn’t ready for the wrath of Ellis or the heartbreak of seeing her daughter’s beautiful, cheerful face and wondering what the future held for her—if she even had a future.

  No. She wouldn’t go there. Suddenly, Dani felt as if she were suffocating. She had to get out of here. She needed fresh air. She left the conference room and rushed to the elevator, jabbing impatiently at the button. The doors finally opened, and Dani rushed to step on, and in the process collided with someone stepping off.

  “Excuse me, I’m sorry,” she said, not looking up.

  “Dani, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  It was Trevor.

  ***

  After earning two victories in as many nights on the California road trip, the team’s morning skate on Tuesday was optional, and Trevor chose to skip it. Normally, he attended most of the optional skates, as he wanted to make the best impression possible on the team. Today, though, he had other priorities.

  He hadn’t spoken to Dani since Saturday, and every time he tried to text her to ask about Kaylen, she either didn’t answer or changed the subject. Something definitely wasn’t right, so Trevor made a point of going straight to the hospital that morning. He expected Dani might be there. He didn’t expect to run smack into her as he stepped off the elevator, and he certainly didn’t expect to find her crying.

  “No, I’m not okay,” she said, in response to his question. “I need to get out of here for a bit.”

  “Fine, then, we’ll go together.” He followed her onto the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. “You’re the person I wanted to see anyway.”

  “Why?”

  Because I love you and I can’t stop thinking about you. It probably wasn’t the best response, given her current frame of mind. “Because I have some news. Potentially good news.” The elevator opened on the ground floor, and Trevor stepped off, with Dani right behind him. “Where to?”

  “Outside. I need air.”

  “Air’s good,” Trevor said, leading the way outside. There were several benches in the grassy area in front of the hospital, and he headed for one of those. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  She wiped her eyes with sleeve of her shirt. “You said you had good news? I could use some of that.”

  Trevor nodded. “Okay, I came by to get you this morning, because I told you I might have a way for me, or at least the team, to help you out with some of Kaylen’s medical expenses,” he said. “We’ve got a meeting this morning with Charlene Simmons, who heads up the Generals Charity Foundation.”

  “I know of her, yes.”

  “Good. She can help us set up some sort of fundraiser or something,” Trevor said.

  He expected Dani to be pleased, instead she shook her head back and forth. “That’s nice, but it’s too late.”

  “Too late? What the hell?” Fear gripped Trevor as his mind went to the worst place it could. No. There was no way. Dani was a mess, sure, but she was still too composed for that. “Don’t tell me...”

  “No, Trev, she’s fine. Well, not fine, but stable anyway... it’s just that the chemotherapy isn’t working anymore.” Dani sank onto the bench and Trevor sat down beside her. “Her test results came back, and the doctor’s don’t think she can continue with the chemo. She needs a bone marrow transplant. It’s probably her only hope.”

  Her body shook, and Trevor pulled Dani into his arms. “It’s okay, baby. We’ll find her a donor match. Everything will work out.” It sounded Pollyannaish to him, too, but what was he supposed to say? He had to be positive, think positive.

  “Sure, right. That’s what people say, but I’m scared, Trev.”

  He hugged her tighter, feeling helpless, but wanting to be strong for her. “I’m s
cared, too. Maybe it’s crazy, but I’ve come to think of Special Kay like she’s my own. Probably because she’s yours, and you’re still so damn special to me...” Trevor paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “We’re going to help her, though. We’re going to figure this out.” He pulled out of the embrace and stood up. “Let’s go.” He held out a hand.

  “Go where?”

  “To meet with Ms. Simmons. I told you, we’re going to figure this out.”

  ***

  In spite of her reluctance to ask anyone for help, and doubts whether anyone could truly offer her any, Dani accompanied Trevor to meet with the director of the Generals Charity Foundation in her office at the team’s headquarters in San Antonio’s Uptown neighborhood.

  “Thank you for seeing us, Ms. Simmons,” Dani said as soon as they were seated.

  “Call me Char, please.” She was dressed casually in jeans and a gray polo-style shirt sporting the team logo, her dark brown hair falling loosely to her shoulders. “And it’s my pleasure. I’m always looking for new ways our foundation can benefit the San Antonio community.”

  “I’ve heard that, yes,” Dani said. “An acquaintance of mine, Jessica Rowan, is a reporter for channel twelve. I know she’s covered your events in the past.”

  Char nodded. “Jess and I went to college together. She’s a good friend of mine, and usually willing to help out. It’s nice to have connections in the media.”

  “I bet it is,” Dani said. “Anyway, I’m not sure you can really help me...”

  “Why don’t you let me decide that?” Char smiled. “Tell me about this little girl of yours, and I’ll see what we might be able to do.”

  Dani still had her doubts about the help, but she never minded telling people about her daughter. “Kaylen loves hockey and the Generals.” Dani fought to keep her composure. “I took her to her first game last fall. We were celebrating what we thought was her remission.” She smiled at the memory. “She was instantly hooked.”

  “She has leukemia, right?” Char asked.