Broken Saint (Seattle Saints #1)

39. Ella

39

ELLA

T his time when I walk into the stadium, I feel every ounce of excitement for the impending game.

Last time I was here, everything was a bit of a blur.

I was so terrified about Colt’s reaction to me being here that I didn’t stand a chance of really experiencing it like I should have.

But this time…I soak all of it up.

The chanting of the crowd, the sea of Saints blue and yellow, the electricity in the air, the anticipation.

“This is insane,” I breathe as we find our seats.

Macie left us soon after we had lunch so that she could watch the game from the visitors’ end of the stadium with the wives and girlfriends of Leon’s teammates. Probably wise, seeing as we’re surrounded by a sea of Saints jerseys.

“I love game days,” Peyton says with a wide smile on her face. “It blows my mind that our men do this.” She gestures to the exuberant crowd. “They cause this kind of excitement and so much happiness in so many lives.”

“When they win,” Letty jokes. “Different story otherwise.”

“Nah, they still love them. Saints’ fans are the best.”

Music booms through the speakers as the camera pans around the crowd, the images of over-excited fans illuminated on the jumbotron.

Taking my seat, I stare out at the mass of people.

I watched Colt and the guys play some big games when they were Maddison Kings Panthers. But this…this is beyond anything I’ve experienced before.

A little sadness trickles through me as I think about all the games I’ve missed, but it’s quickly washed away when the cheerleaders take to the field to continue to build the anticipation.

I think of Colt somewhere deep in this building, pulling on his pads and lacing up his cleats.

He’s surrounded by his best friends and about to do the thing he loves most in the world.

The rivalry between the Saints and the Chiefs might run deep, but I know that playing with West means a lot to Colt. He might try to downplay it, but he loves his little brother something fierce. He always has, and without him saying the words, I know he’s beyond proud of him.

The minutes pass quickly as we wait for the game to start, the excitement levels of the people around me only growing. But it’s nothing compared to the moment their beloved Saints come running from the tunnel and take to the field.

The vibrations from their pounding feet rock through my body as goosebumps erupt over my skin.

Despite attending a hell of a lot more games than me, Letty feels it too and begins screaming beside me for her man.

Reaching out, she takes my hand as I stand there completely overwhelmed by it all, my eyes scanning each member of the team as they emerge, waiting for the moment I see him.

My heart is in my throat, my stomach in a tight, impatient knot, but the second he emerges, every single muscle in my body relaxes.

I have no idea if he knew where we’d be, but the second he looks up, he finds me.

All the air rushes from my lungs and a smile spreads across my lips.

Out of all the tens of thousands of people in this stadium, he found me without any hesitation.

Me.

Lifting my hand, I press my palm over my racing heart, my eyes staying locked with his.

His teammates move around him, but he remains frozen in the middle of the field, every bit of his attention aimed at me.

The moment feels like it goes on forever, but the second his head moves and breaks the trance we’d fallen into, I realize it was nowhere near long enough.

His fingers touch his lips before he blows me a kiss from the fifty-yard line with almost all of Seattle—hell, most of the country—watching.

I swear my entire world falls into place right then and there.

All too soon, the moment is over and he’s forced to turn away and prepare for the game.

My breathing is shaky and my hands are trembling as I watch him.

“Who knew Colt would turn out to be such a romantic?” Peyton muses.

As much as I might want to agree, I can’t find any words. He’s stolen all of them, right along with my heart and soul.

If there was even an inkling of doubt in my mind about the decision I made on Friday night, then it’s been completely obliterated.

This is it for me. My life is here.

Everything is here.

My phone begins vibrating in the back pocket of my jeans, and I rip my eyes away from my man to pull it free.

I don’t think about my actions until it’s in front of me and I panic I might be forced to look at his name.

My heart sinks as reality hits.

I might have made a decision about my future, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t still have a past that needs dealing with.

But thankfully, when I look down, I don’t find a message from him, but from Mom.

Swiping the screen, I find a photograph of her TV.

Frowning in confusion, I open it to full size and gasp.

It’s a photo of the jumbotron. Half the screen is filled with my sappy, smiling face, and the other of Colt as he blows me a kiss.

My cell buzzes again with another message.

Mom: I can’t wait to meet him. Anyone who makes you smile like that is good with me.

“Mommy Myers approves,” Letty teases.

“Let’s just hope the rest of the world does, huh?” I mutter after tapping out a message to let Mom know that I’ll call her later and pocket my cell again.

“Something tells me that you’re about to find out.”

“I can’t believe he did that,” I muse, my heart pounding all over again just thinking about it.

“It could have been worse,” Peyton offers. “He could have dropped to one knee and proposed.”

“Jesus,” I mutter, but the start of the game swallows my reaction to her comment, and our ability to hold a conversation comes to an abrupt end as everyone cheers around us.

The game is one of the best I’ve ever watched. Both teams give everything they have, and the score is tight the whole way.

The Saints took the lead first, sending the entire stadium into chaos, but the Chiefs pulled it back in the second quarter and they’ve been battling ever since.

As the final quarter begins, the Saints are up by four points. But it’s nowhere near enough for anyone to relax.

The Saints offense lines up. We can’t hear over the crowd, but we can see as Luca barks orders at his teammates, calling the play that hopefully will be the one to give them the edge.

A collective gasp sounds out at the snap, and I swear everyone leans a little closer to watch as Luca catches the ball and prepares to launch it up field—I assume to Kane, who’s taken off at full speed. But just before he throws it, Luca changes direction, setting his sights on Colt, who darts around the Chiefs tight end, ready to catch the pass.

“Oh my god,” I gasp as the leather leaves Luca’s fingers, heading in Colt’s direction.

He’s open. The Chiefs defense is still trying to recover from where they thought this play was going.

But as the balls begin to descend, a Chiefs linebacker seems to come out of nowhere, barreling toward Colt at the speed of light.

Fear wraps around me as I scream at him, willing the ball to move faster so he has time to move.

I’ve watched Colt play numerous times, and I’ve seen him taken down over and over. I’ve tended to more than a handful of his injuries and given him countless massages that he probably didn’t even need. But there is something about this impending tackle that makes my heart jump into my throat.

With everything that’s happened in the last few days, I just assume that it’s because things between us are heightened right now. Any pain he feels, I’m going to feel right alongside him. And something tells me that this is going to hurt.

My screams falter a heartbeat before the two of them collide.

I swear, right then, time fucking stops.

I freeze as Colt drops to the ground, the ball falling from his almost catch. But it’s too late for the linebacker to stop himself, and he plummets to the ground right alongside Colt.

Although, he almost instantly gets back up.

Colt, however, is still lying there just shy of the twenty-five-yard line.

The Chiefs take control of the ball, but I don’t pay any attention to what happens, my eyes locked on my man.

“Get up, Colt,” I beg quietly. “Please.”

Letty’s arm wraps around my shoulder as Peyton’s hand slips into mine.

They know how I feel right now. They’ve lived through this a million times.

But as the seconds pass, Colt still doesn’t move.

A whistle blows, bringing play to a stop as players and staff run onto the field to tend to him.

Ice floods my veins as the excitement of the crowd lessens, concern growing in its place.

“What’s happening?” I choke through the lump in my throat, my eyes burning with tears.

We can’t see anything.

There’s a human shield between me and Colt, and I hate it.

“I need to get down there. I need?—”

My words fade off as I fight through the people in our row all focused on the field with worry etched into their expressions.

“Ella, wait,” Letty cries, but she’s too late.

The second I’m free, I race down the few stairs toward the barrier that keeps us from the field.

“COLTON,” I scream, racing around the fencing, desperately searching for a way through it.

I spot a gap, my legs pumping harder.

There are two security guards keeping the crowd from flooding onto the field, but I don’t so much as slow as I fly toward them.

Their hands lift to stop me, but there is no chance of them doing that. Not when he needs me.

“COLTON,” I scream again, tears flooding my cheeks as I dart between the two imposing men.

“Miss, you can’t?—”

I’ve no idea if they know who I am or what, but they do not fight as hard as I’m sure they should to keep me out.

I look up just in time to see an ambulance appear on the edge of the field and paramedics race toward the players who are shielding the crowd from what is happening.

“NO. No, please,” I sob to no one.

Movement to my right catches my eye, and when I glance over, I find Brax racing toward me.

He gathers me up in his arms, stopping me from seeing what’s happening.

“Tell me he’s okay,” I beg.

One look into his eyes and I don’t get the answer I crave.

Twisting around, I catch sight of Colt on the field, but it’s what the paramedics are doing that makes the world fall from beneath me.

They’re giving him CPR.

Brax just manages to catch me before I plummet, his arms holding me tighter than ever.

“COLTON,” I scream, my entire body trembling violently.

More arms wrap around me before the sweet, combined scent of my girls’ perfume fills my nose, but it brings me little comfort as I continue staring at the players hiding my man from the world in his worst moments.