Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
“That’s fucked.” I shook my head.
“We won.” He shrugged. “We’re good with that.”
I believed him. My team was selfless like that.
“Where’s Lyla?” I asked. His sudden change of expression made my heart sink. “Did something happen to her?”
He sighed heavily. “I’ll be right back.”
He walked toward the door, opened it slightly, grabbed something, and shut it again. When he turned around, he was holding a bouquet of black roses. My heart dropped again. She wasn’t coming. I was sure of it. He placed the vase with the rest of the flowers I’d received — all lively and positive in comparison. Hers were my favorite. I swallowed thickly and took a sip of the water the nurse brought me earlier. Pres plucked the attached card and brought it over, handing it to me. My hand shook as I took it. I didn’t have to read it to know she was gone. I already felt her absence.
“She left, didn’t she?” I asked, voice hoarse.
Pres looked down, a sad expression on his face when he glanced back up. I watched him swallow it back before he responded. “She’s gone, Lach.”
My heart stopped beating. “What do you mean gone?”
“She’s safe,” he said quickly, “She said what happened was a wake-up call, and she’s too scared to be anywhere near you, just in case.” He paused, swallowing again. “You won’t see her again.”
So many things were happening inside my body, I thought I might explode. I felt like crying for the first time since I was seven years old. I sniffled and realized that I was crying. I wiped my face and clenched my jaw to hold back the rest of my emotion. I knew I would lose it as soon as he walked out of the room. Since I had nothing to throw, my anger would come out as tears. I knew it. I took a deep breath.
“How was she when she left?”
“Fucking destroyed.” Pres let out a laugh that sounded like he wanted to add more but held it back. I had to swallow again. “I’ve never seen her like this. Not even after. . .” He paused, tears filling his own eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not even after Luke. Not even after her mom.” He took a deep, shaky breath and wiped his eyes. “We could’ve lost you, Lach.”
“I’ll find her,” I said quietly.
“I’m sorry, man,” he whispered. “She doesn’t want you to look for her.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “That’s not up to her.”
“She’s a ghost now, Lach. I’m telling you, you won’t find her. She wants you to live your dream life and says you can’t if she’s in it.”
That made me laugh. She wanted me to live my dream life without her in it. What a fucking. . .I gritted my teeth. How the fuck did she expect me to do that? Prescott stayed around a little longer. When he left, I didn’t cry like I thought I would. Anger had taken the place of the sadness I’d previously felt. I opened the card. It was written in sharpie, her handwriting, though. I read it. Stared at it. Reread it.
I’m so fucking sorry.
I love you too much.
X, Lyla James
The words were blotched as if her tears had fallen as she wrote them. A smile formed on my face. I didn’t need a mirror to tell me it looked more sinister than happy. I felt it in my bones. She thought she was going to leave me? She thought that after writing that she loved me, actually writing it, I was going to just, what, let her go? Oh, no. I chuckled at my thoughts. I was going to find her, and when I did, she would wish she hadn’t run from me.
PART TWO
3 YEARS LATER
PROLOGUE
LACHLAN
Starring in the NHL All-Star Game is a good way to go before I hang up my skates. Our team annihilated our opponents. Not because the other three teams aren’t good. They’re fucking great, but they put the three best hockey players of our generation on the same team. They couldn’t expect it to be a fair fight. Today, the competition is less aggressive since we’re doing fun drills. I hope it'll give me a moment of respite from all the questions I've been fielding all weekend.
I’ve spent the majority of my time here telling the guys I’m friends with that I’m retiring. I don’t want them to hear it on ESPN, and knowing those fuckers, they’ll have the news sitting in front of a sportscaster by the end of the day. I’m going to use my final media time here to announce it. I already know it’ll be plastered everywhere. There’s no chance in hell she’ll miss it. Not that it matters at this point. What’s done is done, and my anger has been festering with each day that passes.