Puck Prince (Houston Scythes Hockey #1)

49. Owen

49

OWEN

“You can’t blame yourself for this.” Lance is on hour two standing next to my side, trying to talk me out of Callie’s hospital room and into my own bed to rest. A dozen nurses didn’t stand a chance, so I don’t know how to break it to Lance that he doesn’t stand one, either.

As soon as news of the accident broke, my phone exploded with texts and calls from the whole team. I let them know I was fine, but Callie had taken the brunt of it. Lance was the first to arrive.

I have the ultrasound photo in my hand. Not the ripped one from before, but a shiny new one the tech printed for me. I can’t stop looking at it.

“Who else is to blame?” I ask. “I was so stupid.”

“You weren’t stupid; you just didn’t know. There’s a difference.”

We’ve come at this conversation from every possible angle, but I can’t see it any other way.

“I was parading Callie around to keep the press away from my sister. I put her in the spotlight—in danger—to make my life easier.”

Lance pulls up a chair in front of me. “You did it to protect your sister and your nephew from her asshole ex. People have shoved their relationships into the spotlight for a lot less. You did it to help someone you love.”

“She’s pregnant, though. And being hunted down by her own piece of shit ex. And now look at her, Lance.”

Lance glances at Callie, and I don’t need to follow his gaze to know what he’s seeing. Callie is propped up slightly with a pillow, but her face is pale and swollen from breaking her nose. Her eyes are ringed in black. I look back down at the photo in my clenched hands.

No one will convince me this wasn’t my fault.

“It could have been so much worse, Owen,” Lance goes on. “Honestly, after seeing pictures of your car, I’m surprised it wasn’t.”

While I know that he’s right, it still doesn’t make me feel any better.

My eyes shoot up to him. “When did you see the car?”

“Bro, the pictures are all over the internet.”

“It should be fucking illegal, what they’re doing,” I grit out. “How do they sleep at night?”

“Beats me. But she’s okay. And you’re okay, thank God. And from the sound of it, the baby is okay.”

I nod. It’s weird hearing him talk openly about something I’ve barely wrapped my head around. There are probably think pieces about what kind of father I’ll be splashed across gossip blogs.

“Playing hockey is all I ever wanted. It saved my life. But I didn’t think about this side of things—the fame, the way it would affect the family I also never stopped to think about.” I massage the bridge of my nose with a sigh. “People think fame is great, but it’s exhausting. I’m too young to be this exhausted, man.”

He pats me on my good shoulder. “It’s a lot of weight, I know, but you got it, O. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

Before I can outline how wrong he is, the door bursts open and Kennedy rushes inside. “Callie!”

A nurse is hot on her heels. “Ma’am, we can only allow two visitors at a time.”

“That’s fine. This guy in the hockey jersey with the bad haircut was just leaving.” She motions to Lance without looking at him. “Besides, I’m family.”

Kennedy stops next to Lance, arms crossed threateningly while she glares up at him.

“I’m getting the sense it’s time for me to go.” He grabs his stuff out of the chair, and Kennedy drops down into it like he might change his mind. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do.” I give him a side-hug—or the best version of one I can with my arm in a sling.

“The rest of the team wants to come up to visit, but…” He gestures vaguely towards Kennedy before tossing up his hands. “I’ll warn them what they might find.”

If Kennedy wanted to block them all at the door, I wouldn’t even mind. I know they want to support me, but it’s a lot right now.

Lance slips out, and Kennedy forgets about him the second he’s out of sight. She grabs Callie’s hand, tears rolling down her face. “Oh Callie. Your pretty nose. How did she break her nose?”

“On my face.”

“Wha–” She looks at my stitched, swollen lip and winces. “And the baby? Please tell me the baby–”

“Totally fine.” I hand her the sonogram picture.

With that, Kennedy loses it. “Thank God.”

“Listen, Kennedy. I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” she sobs, grabbing a tissue.

“Because if I hadn’t lost my shit earlier and sent her back to you, you wouldn’t have gone to that restaurant and none of this would have ever happened.”

Kennedy sniffs. “Do you really believe that? You're one of the most popular hockey players in the state of Texas, Owen. If the crazies hadn’t come after you today, they would’ve tried again on another day.”

“Whether it was today or next week, it still would’ve been my fault. I put her in the spotlight.”

“No sense in beating yourself up, Sharpe.” Coach walks in. My legs are still shaky and the pain meds are making me wobbly, but I force myself to stand up.

He looks down at Callie for a hard moment before looking at me. The man could punch me right now and I wouldn’t blame him.

Instead, he squeezes Callie’s other hand. “I hate seeing her like this. I hate that I didn’t know what was really going on with her.”

“None of us knew,” Kennedy points out. “She kept it from all of us.”

“She’s always been stubborn like that. Independent to a goddamn fault. You gave me a run for my money growing up—” He looks at Kennedy. “—but Callie… Callie made me worry. Not because I didn’t think she’d do well, but because I knew when she finally wanted something, there’d be no stopping her. And I was right. She found something she wanted, and she charged after it. All gas and no breaks.”

“She’s a great PT,” I say quietly. “One of the best I’ve had.”

“I meant you, Owen.”

I look at him. “Me?”

“She wanted you . I knew it before you told me y'all were even a thing. I wasn’t happy at first. I never wanted either of my girls tied up with an athlete. But then I saw how good you were for each other. Fire and ice maybe, but still good. Which is why I’m not angry with you right now. In fact, I think I should thank you.”

“Sir?”

“You got her out of the restaurant and saw to it that they got her here. That means the world to me, Sharpe. Thank you.”

I don’t know how to make sense of being thanked for all of this. Part of me wishes he would hit me. At least that would make sense.

My teammates trickle in and out all day. After Kennedy almost gets in a fistfight with Dax after he kicks his feet up on the plastic side of Callie’s bed, I finally decide to go down to the cafeteria, if only to save anyone else on the team from injury.

I have no appetite, but I do grab a cup of coffee and try to pretend like I’m not wallowing in self-pity and shame.

After almost destroying the hospital dessert buffet, they all start making their way past the media and out to their cars. But Miles hangs back.

“You’re putting on a good face, but you can tell me if you need anything.” He reaches to squeeze my shoulder, but stops when he sees the sling. “Alisha and I just want to help.”

“Thanks,” I tell him. “Right now we just need to get better and get out of here. I’m exhausted.”

“All the visitors probably don’t help.” He looks towards the waiting room. “Is anyone else coming by?”

I check the clock on the wall. Visiting hours are almost over. I saw Kennedy sneak out five minutes ago. Coach said he’d be back in the morning. The team has already dropped in. The only other person I can think of is Summer.

Just as her name crosses my mind, she texts me.

Summer: I’m looking for a sitter, I want to come see you.

And I want the twenty-four hour news cycle to get a life and stay out of mine, but we don’t always get what we want. There’s no way in hell I’m letting my sister near this place with the cameras stationed outside.

Owen: It’s not safe, Summer.

Summer: It’s a hospital, Owen.

Owen: This place is crawling with reporters. One pretended to be Callie’s cousin to get inside earlier. You’re not coming here.

Thankfully, security dragged the lying schmuck out before I ran into him. I would’ve gladly fucked up my other shoulder to teach him a lesson about minding his own business.

Everything I’ve put Callie through the last few weeks was to protect Summer. If Summer comes here and gets found out by her ex, it will have all been for nothing.

Owen: I’ll keep you updated. I promise. I love you.

“Everything okay?” Miles asks.

“Fine.” I shove my phone in my pocket. “Visiting hours are almost over. I think the parade is done for today.”

He glances at my phone. “Who was that?”

“My sister. She wants to visit, but I told her to stay home. She’s the last thing I need right now.”

“Are you two not close?”

“No, we are. We—” I sigh. “She’s got a lot of shit of her own to deal with right now, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to cross pollinate our drama right now.”

“Family,” he breathes, shaking his head. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair, too. But if you ever need a strong line of defense between you and visitors—family, reporters, teammates—give me a call.”

He leaves, but his words ring in my ears.

I’m not the one who needs a strong line of defense. It’s Callie and Summer who need help. Because of me.

Summer’s personal life could blow up the second someone finds out she’s related to me. Her ex would probably scurry out of whatever hole he crawled in just to soak up his fifteen minutes.

Callie moved to Houston to get away from her past, but now it’s following her around because of me. The only reason her ex showed up in that cafe today was because she was photographed on my arm and at my games. She was stalked because of me.

She was also almost killed because of me.

I pull the sonogram picture out of my pocket and stare down at it. My heart squeezes in my chest.

This has to stop.

“Mr. Sharpe?” I turn to see Callie’s nurse cutting across the cafeteria towards me. Worst case scenarios flash in my mind as I stand up, limping towards her. “It’s Callie.”

“What is it? Is she okay?” I knew I shouldn’t have left her.

I’m ready to drag my broken body up the stairs when the nurse rests a hand on my arm. “She’s waking up.”