Risky Move: Tampa Suns Hockey Page 8

  “I’m sure Dave would rather spend a romantic evening with only you,” Cassie teased. “You’re still newlyweds.”

  “Nah, the honeymoon’s over. We’ve had our first fight.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Caryn said. “What caused the argument?”

  Lauren laughed, shaking her head. “Sounds so stupid now, but for a while things got hot.” She looked at Caryn. “Remember when Jim Wesley recently called to see if we were interested in taking on some of those seminars, they thought they’d handle in-house?”

  Cassie saw the look of disgust cross Caryn’s expression. “We declined that. What did Dave find objectionable about that?”

  “I mentioned it in passing, but before I could tell him that we said, ‘No way in hell,’ he started telling me he didn’t want me working for ‘that man.’” Lauren made a face. “And you know how much I enjoy someone telling me what to do.”

  “Even such a gorgeous, hunky husband?” Cassie teased.

  “Especially not my husband. I told him he was acting like a caveman…one comment led to another until the whole thing got ridiculous. When I said we declined the contract, he’s like, ‘Why didn’t you say so?’ So, I informed my ‘gorgeous, hunky husband’ that had he contained his inner cave-dweller, I could have told him.” She giggled, along with Cassie and Caryn.

  “So, how was the make-up sex?” Caryn teased.

  “Unbelievable! If I’d known…”

  “Just remember to pick a fight every so often,” Caryn replied with a wink.

  “You don’t do that with Andrew?” Cassie demanded.

  “My secret. Just something to store in the back of your mind for future reference.”

  15

  Tom’s first official action as the concussion specialist came during the Suns second homestead. Chance Gagné took a massive hit against the boards. His head crashed against the glass, then in the ensuing retaliation, he somehow got shoved to the ice where his head took another blow. The Suns’ trainer, Jim Pettit, hurried across the ice, and Tom watched on the monitor as the veteran pushed aside any offers of help and climbed back up on his skates. Gagné definitely did not want to leave the ice—his body language spoke volumes. He turned to skate away while the officials sorted out penalties, but Pettit grabbed his arm as did John Peterson. As they skated him off the ice, arguing the entire time, Tom grabbed what he needed and stood outside the dimly lit evaluation room.

  “Come on, I don’t need to get checked out. I’m fine. At least I’ll be once I get back on the ice,” Gagné grumbled.

  The buzzer sounded, marking the end of the period, and Tom noted the involuntary cringe cross the defenseman’s face. He caught Pettit’s eyes and nodded toward the darkened room.

  “Let us do our job, and you could get back in time for the third period,” Pettit said. “Hop up on the table.”

  “This is bullshit, and you know it.”

  “Humor us.” Tom resisted helping Chance up on the table, wanting to prove a point.

  “Fucking skates.”

  Both Pettit and Tom grabbed arms before he could pitch forward, guiding, then lifting him up on the table. Tom kept his focus on the evaluation, even as Gagné resisted complying with the assessment.

  “Look, you say you’re okay,” he said finally. “If you’d shut up and cooperate, maybe we’ll complete this in time to get you back on the ice.” Or to the hospital. He kept that thought to himself, although Pettit’s body language showed he agreed with the unspoken comment.

  Tom knew he’d order a scan if Gagné presented at the ER. His eyes met Pettit’s, who nodded his agreement. “I’ll step out for a minute. Why not lie back and relax, Chance?”

  He walked across the hallway to find Coach Harper waiting for him in the training room.

  “What’s the verdict, doc?”

  “I’d prefer to send him to the hospital for a scan. Precautionary, but with those two head hits in succession…”

  “Do what you need,” Harper. “Cooperating, or do I need to speak with him?”

  “I think he got the message.” Tom first alerted the ER, per the procedure he and Dan Forster had devised. Either a senior Neurology Resident or Forster would meet the ambulance. The paramedics employed by the Suns had already positioned a gurney in the hallway. Tom nodded to them, then re-entered the darkened room. The smell of vomit did not surprise him, and Chance’s demeanor had changed.

  “What’s the verdict, doc?”

  “I’ve ordered a scan at the hospital. You have a concussion—the scan will rule out any complications. We’ll monitor you for several hours, probably overnight, then hopefully we’ll release you with recovery instructions or discuss treatment options.” He watched the man’s expression darken. “Can we call anyone for you? Wife? Girlfriend? Anyone at the game?”

  “No need to call anyone. Let’s just get this over and done with.”

  “The paramedics are ready to transport you,” Pettit said. “Blakely has your wallet and clothes.” He referred to assistant trainer Lucas Blakely. “You want to get out of the skates and pads before you go?” When Gagné nodded, Pettit stepped to the end of the exam table and quickly removed the skates. “Let’s get you into some sweats.”

  “I’ll see you either later tonight or tomorrow morning,” Tom said when they were ready to transport. “Hopefully, to sign off on your discharge.”

  “I’d better hear you say that.” Chance scowled as the paramedics moved him to the gurney.

  Tom touched his shoulder. “I hope that, too. Just remember, you’ll have the best doctors over at the hospital.”

  “Gotcha.” Gagné finally closed his eyes as the gurney left the room.

  Amelie invited Cassie to join her for dinner at The Center Ice Lounge. Amelie flashed her fake ID the moment they sat in a booth near the dance floor. Cassie ordered sparkling water and a tapas appetizer. She’d have ordered dinner had she’d known she would spend the evening watching Amelie flirt and dance with a constant stream of different guys. While Amelie danced, Cassie monitored the drinks her friend continually left on the table. Surely, she knows the danger, right? Or is that why Amelie wanted me to go out with her—free ride and someone to make sure no one slips anything into her drinks? She should know better. Rather be home with the twins…

  Cassie had many guys approach her—some to chat for a while, others looking for a hook-up. She declined all invitations, even to dance. She’d loved dancing but knew she wouldn’t enjoy herself if she lost track of her friend. Especially with Amelie’s third—or fourth?—drink sitting on the table. She kept an eye on the Suns home game broadcasted on several large screen TVs.

  Jenna and Daniel had seemed especially fussy earlier, so Caryn opted to stay home with the twins and had encouraged Cassie to enjoy an evening off. Now she wished she’d gone to the game. Tom’s working for the Suns tonight. I could have seen him if I’d gone with Lauren.

  Cassie glanced at the TV as Chance Gagné took the big hit into the boards. She cringed when she watched his head hit the glass and shuddered when two members of the team assisted him off the ice. Holy crap! Wonder if he needs to get checked for a concussion? Is this the first player Tom’s had to evaluate?

  When Gagné did not return to the ice at the start of the next period, she sent a text to Lauren.

  Cassie: Chance all right?

  Lauren: Not sure. Going to hospital for eval. Conscious, complaining

  Cassie: Can I do anything?

  Lauren: Don’t think so. Will check in with you after the game.

  Cassie waited until Amelie stopped by the table to quench her thirst before she told her about Chance.

  “OMG! We need to go to the hospital. He’s all alone.” She drained the contents of her glass and grabbed Cassie’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  She ignored the slightly slurred words. “I don’t know where they took Chance. Lauren will call when she knows something.”

  Amelie stared at her. “How can you just sit there so cal
m?”

  “He didn’t leave the ice on a gurney, Amelie.” Cassie reached for her purse. “Have you settled your bill? By the time you get home, Cam should have an update.”

  “Soooo, no more dancing for you?” Amelie’s worried expression morphed into a pout.

  Cassie chose not to mention that she’d never left the table. “I’m tired. I think I should go home and relieve Caryn with the twins.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll call Uber when I’m ready to leave.”

  “Seriously, Amelie? You don’t want to get into an Uber alone. Come on, I’ll drop you off.”

  Amelie rolled her eyes. “Yes, mother.”

  Cassie’s cheeks burned as she led Amelie from the sports bar. Wow, she’s as self-absorbed as her twin. Acts like I’m the Fun Police.

  They drove in silence to Cam’s condo, and Amelie exited the car with a muttered, “See you later, Cass.”

  After the game, Tom stopped by the hospital to check on Gagné. Once assured that no complications appeared on the scan, he looked for Lucas Blakely in the designated waiting area. John and Kelly Peterson arrived as Tom spotted Lucas. He updated the trio and tried again to obtain information on Gagné’s family.

  “There’s nothing in his medical file,” Lucas said.

  “Never talks about himself either,” John added.

  “Who’d he list as emergency contacts?”

  “Micky and Minnie Mouse.”

  Tom shook his head. “That needs to change. I know the guys don’t take this seriously or think they could get hurt. I hate that we have no family contact information.”

  “I’ll see if Pettit can touch base with his former team,” Lucas said as he pulled his phone from his jacket pocket.

  “They’re running his name through the medical information database. Something may pop up,” Tom added.

  Blakely returned to the group. “Pettit’s already on it. I’ll hang around here for a while just in case Chance wants company.”

  Peterson laughed quietly. “Not likely, but we can stay, too.”

  Tom shook his head. “No need. He’s out for the night. Any changes, I’ll get the call.”

  “Thanks, Tom,” John said. “We’ll stay with Lucas until he hears from Pettit. Let us know if there’s anything we need to do.”

  “You know the routine as well as I do.” Tom referred to the days of uncertainty while Andrew fought to survive his TBI. The Petersons and Steve and Terri Rogers had encircled Caryn–and him—with support. His family owed a huge debt of gratitude for the many ways they’d supported Andrew on the long recovery. He said a silent prayer of thanks that Gagné’s injury did not appear serious.

  Cassie set the GPS for the Chadwick’s and struggled to concentrate on driving while her mind wanted to scream in frustration. So much for my new friend—if I wanted to chauffeur people, I’d work for Lyft or Uber. I will not screw up this opportunity. Why not just go out and enjoy dinner and dancing—forget about the drinking? Thought we’d do that tonight. Different agendas?

  The warning sound and vibrating steering wheel jerked Cassie’s thoughts to the road. She hadn’t even realized she’d drifted toward the adjacent lane. Concentrate, Cassie. You can think about Amelie later.

  She arrived home before Andrew had returned from the game. Caryn dozed on the sofa and sat up reluctantly when Cassie walked in.

  “Not a good evening for Jenna and Daniel?”

  Caryn shook her head with a wan smile. “Teething again, I think. Just got them asleep.”

  “I’m sorry—I should have stayed home and helped you.”

  Caryn brushed the hair away from her face. “No, you need to get out. Have a good time with Amelie?”

  Cassie shrugged. “It was okay, different.” She laughed softly when she saw Caryn’s perplexed expression. “She needs a designated driver and someone to make sure no one slips anything into her drinks…I think she’s a lot like Cam, if I understand his reputation.”

  “Possibly. They are twins. You didn’t drink?”

  “Nothing but water. I promised myself I’ll never drink, then drive. When I wouldn’t let Amie stay and call Uber or Lyft for a ride later, Amelie got slightly peeved. She definitely had at least one too many drinks.”

  Caryn hugged her sympathetically. “I’m sorry. That’s not exactly the type evening you had in mind.”

  “We’ll see if she calls tomorrow—or even remembers tonight. Have you heard anything about Chance?”

  “Drew said he’s good. They’re keeping him at the hospital tonight for observation.” Caryn stifled a yawn. “Drew said he’ll run by the hospital—no need to wait up for him.”

  “Why not get some sleep?” Cassie picked up the monitor. “I’ll check on the munchkins and listen out. I’m kind of wired, so I won’t be sleeping soon.”

  “I’m not arguing with you on this one. I’m exhausted.” Caryn squeezed Cassie’s hand. “Thank you. I’m proud that you played the responsible party tonight. I know that couldn’t have been much fun.”

  “Honestly, I wish I’d stayed home or gone to the game. But, all’s good, Caryn. Get some rest while you can.”

  About an hour later, Andrew and Tom entered the house together.

  “My peanuts cranky this evening?” Andrew smiled when he saw Cassie.

  “They fussed a bit…well, let’s say they were cranky earlier. Caryn thinks they’re teething again.” Cassie bit back a smile. “She didn’t argue when I suggested she get some sleep.”

  “Thanks, Cassie.” Andrew opened the refrigerator and set two bottles of beer on the counter.

  “How’s Chance? That looked scary.”

  “He’s okay,” Tom said. “We’re keeping him overnight as a precaution. Definitely has a concussion.”

  Cassie started to respond but glanced at her phone as a ringtone sounded. Cam? What could he want? Maybe it’s Amelie.

  “Excuse me,” she said as she swiped to accept the call.

  “Cassie. Do I need to pick up Amelie? Are you downtown? She’s not answering her phone.” Cam didn’t wait for her to answer questions.

  “Battery’s dead,” Cassie interrupted. “Have you checked her bedroom? I dropped her off a couple hours ago. She’s probably deep in dreamland.”

  “Hang on.” Cassie saw the question on both Tom’s and Andrew’s faces. She shrugged and waited for Cam to confirm that Amelie had fallen asleep. “When did you drop her off?” His question and tone surprised her.

  “Not long after Chance left the game. She wanted to stop by the hospital, but Lauren said he was okay.”

  “Why the fuck did she want to go there?”

  “I don’t know, Cam. Maybe they’re friends? We were at a club, and I was ready to go. She wanted to stay and grab an Uber, but I asked her to leave with me.” Cassie stopped to take a deep breath. “I dropped her off at your building’s front door.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered. “Where were you tonight? Drinking?”

  “Center Ice Lounge,” Cassie said.

  “How many drinks did she have?”

  Cassie’s patience ran its course. “I don’t know. I wasn’t counting.”

  “Drunk?”

  “No, maybe buzzed, but definitely not drunk.”

  “Why the hell did you take her there, Cassie?”

  She didn’t like the implication in his tone. “I’ve never been there. She suggested it. I wanted to eat dinner, not drink it.”

  “You let her drink?”

  “Hey, you got her the fake ID. I didn’t know I was supposed to babysit. She had a few drinks and danced. With a lot of different guys. I assume you’ve taken her there. I’d never heard about it.”

  “Did she say she wanted to go anywhere else?”

  “I. Don’t. Know!” Cassie snapped. “The hospital? Back to the sports bar? Somewhere else? How would I know?”

  She looked up when Andrew stepped beside her and held out his hand for the phone. Cassie didn’t hesitate, giving him her phone and walking away, breathing dee
ply to calm her emotions. How can he imply it’s my fault? She vaguely heard Andrew’s sharp tone as he spoke with Cam, blinking back tears of frustration as she stared out the window toward the pool. She listened as Andrew suggested Cam contact Uber and Lyft or go back to the sports bar.

  “I’ll call Peterson at the hospital in case she’s there or shows up later.” Andrew listened a minute. “Don’t panic. If she’s using your Uber app, you can see where she’s gone. Maybe check the clubs within walking distance of your place. If you need help, most of the guys were planning to go to Center Ice after the game. Call me back either way. And get your head out of your ass—you owe Cassie one huge apology.”

  16

  She hadn’t noticed that Tom stood beside her until Andrew returned the phone. He squeezed her shoulder. “Forget anything he said. You did nothing wrong.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered. “Just so you both know, I don’t drink, then drive.”

  “Thought never entered my mind,” Andrew said. “Absolutely no reason to treat you rudely.”

  “That’s not your fault, Andrew, but thanks for the backup. I might have said something I’d regret.”

  She heard Tom’s quiet laugh. “There’s more to this story?”

  Cassie sank to the couch and swiped a finger under her eyes. “Maybe Cam’s the same way…Amelie left her drinks on the table while she danced. Either she’s clueless, naïve, or taking advantage of me. That’s what I did tonight—chauffeur and make sure no one slipped anything into her drinks. Then stay alert in case I needed to stop her from leaving with someone.”

  Tom handed her a bottle of water as he sat beside her. “Not much different from babysitting the boy last season, right?” He looked at Andrew. “No common sense.”

  “Nice way to put it. So, Cassie, your evening out sounds more like hazardous duty,” Andrew leaned against the back of the sofa.

  “Did you at least get dinner?” Tom asked. “Center Ice has a great menu.”