40. Ella

40

ELLA

T ime stands still.

It completely grinds to a halt as I stand there with Brax’s arms locked around me.

He’s just as terrified. His entire body trembles against mine.

But there is nothing we can do as we stand on the sideline and watch as an ambulance races onto the field.

The stadium completely silent as every single person in this place prays that the man laid out by the twenty-five-yard line will just get up.

He’s one of their beloved Saints.

But they don’t love him like I do.

They can’t. It’s impossible.

A sob rips free as I consider the possibility that everything we’ve discovered in the past few days might already be over.

That the little bit of happiness I thought I’d found here in Seattle has been shattered.

We watch in a daze as the paramedics do their thing, but with the rest of the team still protecting Colt, it’s impossible to see what’s happening.

All we know is that it’s bad.

Really fucking bad.

Long, agonizing minutes pass as we wait for something, anything that might give us a little hope.

It doesn’t come. And when the Saints’ coach finishes talking to one of the medical staff and turns to us, the look on his face tells us everything we already know.

He marches over, keeping his head high, trying to be the pillar of strength he knows everyone needs right now, but in his eyes, it’s clear that he’s suffering too.

He loves Colt, and this is ripping him up inside just like it is everyone else.

He glances at me, but mostly his haunted dark eyes stay locked on Brax’s.

He reaches out and grabs his padded shoulder, knowing Brax is like a brother to Colt.

“They’re taking him to the hospital,” he explains. “West is going with him and?—”

His words trail off as voices start ringing around me. I don’t hear a word. It’s impossible when the barrier of men before us begins moving and I get my first sight of Colton on a gurney.

I don’t recognize the scream that rips from my lips, but I sure feel it all the way to the depth of my soul.

With Brax distracted, I manage to slip free from his arms and I run full speed toward Colt. My need to be with him, to hold his hand and tell him that I love him is all-consuming. But I don’t make it to him. Not that I really thought I would. Instead, strong arms wrap around me from behind, stopping me from following Colt, West and the paramedics as they move across the field as a unit.

“No,” I scream, desperately fighting to follow them, but he’s too strong.

“Let them do their jobs, Ella,” Kane’s deep, cracked voice says behind me. “We’ll get you to the hospital to be by his side. I promise.”

“B-but I need—” My words are cut off as they all disappear from sight.

It’s a whole new kind of torture.

My knees give out, but thankfully, Kane predicts this and keeps me pinned against his padded chest.

“We’ve got you, Ella.”

In a heartbeat, Letty, Peyton and Macie are surrounding me.

“We’ve got a car ready,” Letty tells me, her voice strong and unwavering as she and Peyton take my hands and pull me from Kane’s arms. “We’re going to get you as close to him as we can.”

I nod absently, hearing her words, understanding them, but not really registering them.

Movement catches my eye, and when I look over at the players that are still on the field, I find them down on one knee with their heads bowed.

“No,” I whimper. “No, don’t do that. He’s okay. He’s going to be okay.”

With Letty and Peyton’s arms around me, they turn me away from the image of Colt’s teammates paying him respect and usher me toward a set of security guards protecting an emergency exit.

My legs move without instruction from my brain, relying on my best friends to take me where I need to be.

The stadium might be silent behind me, but it’s drowned out by the white noise filling my ears.

As we approach the men, both of them nod at us, their expressions glum.

“Thanks, Rick,” Letty says before they open a door and allow us to leave the stadium.

A few feet beyond, there is a black town car idling.

“Come on,” Letty says, taking my hand and leading me toward it.

Questions about how they managed to organize this so fast flicker around my conscience, but I never voice them. They don’t matter.

Nothing matters right now but him.

The man who stole my heart all those years ago but has only just given me his in return.

This can’t be over.

It just can’t.

It’s not fair.

We need more time.

By the time we pull up out front of the hospital, I’m numb.

I stare out the window, but I don’t see any of the people rushing around. I don’t see anything. It’s all just a blur.

A rush of cool air hits my skin. It’s the only thing that makes me look over.

“Ella,” Peyton urges from outside the car. “West is waiting for us.”

I stare at her, and I swear I feel my heart split in two.

A warm hand presses against my lower back, encouraging me to move, and I do.

We walk through the hospital, Letty and Peyton following the signs for where we need to be while I allow them to drag me along with them.

The familiar clinical scent fills my nose, and bile sloshes in my stomach. Nothing good happens in a hospital. Or at least, not in my life.

We walk up to a desk where a kind-looking woman smiles up at us, but the second Letty says Colt’s name, her expression falters. It makes my heart tumble all over again.

After directing us down the corridor, we take off again, but it’s only a few seconds before we stop at a door and Peyton pushes it open, allowing me to step inside.

I move forward on autopilot, and the second I look up and find a pair of familiar eyes, I shatter.

My legs finally give out and I plummet to the floor as my sobs rip through the air.

But I never hit the unforgiving linoleum floor beneath me because West catches me.

The Rogers brothers always catch you…

The thought only makes me cry harder as he carries me over to the chairs and lowers us down.

I cling to him as I break with my face tucked into his neck, my tears soaking his skin.

His grip on me is equally as tight as he sucks in deep, shuddering breaths.

I have no idea how much time passes as I hold onto him, taking as much strength from him as possible, but eventually, my tears run dry and everything begins to go numb again.

Sensing that I’m calming down, Letty finally speaks. “Have you had any news?”

West shakes his head. “No, they said they’d update me as soon as possible.”

“Have you spoken to your dad?” Peyton asks.

“Yes, he’s getting a flight over.”

Silence falls around us, the weight of all the unknowns pressing down on our shoulders.

“They postponed the game,” Letty muses, and when I glance over, I find her staring down at her phone.

“The guys are on their way,” Macie says, also looking at hers.

“Social media is flooding with well wishes,” Peyton adds, reaching up to wipe a tear from her eyes at whatever she’s reading.

I swallow thickly, both loving and hating the idea that millions of people across the country are waiting with bated breath for news.

The fact Colt has so many people rooting for him fills me with warmth, but also, I don’t want to share him with that many people. He’s mine.

Or at least, for a little while, he was.

Despite thinking that I’d cried myself out, I start all over again.

West’s unwavering support continues, his hand gently rubbing up and down my back as he whispers everything he thinks I need to hear in my ear.

“I got coffees,” Macie says when I calm down again.

Sucking in a deep breath, the rich scent fills my nose.

“Tell me you found some decent stuff,” West rumbles. “I don’t want vending machine crap.”

“You know,” Peyton muses, “joining the NFL turned you into a diva. It wasn’t so long ago that you’d have drunk pond water if you were thirsty.”

“We were in college. We all drank anything offered,” he argues.

No one has a response to that, because we all know it’s true. So instead, Peyton follows up with, “I ordered Starbucks, so you don’t need to worry about offending your precious tastebuds.”

“Appreciate it, Dunn.”

“El, I got your favorite. And I know you probably don’t want it, but I got your favorite pastry too.”

My stomach knots at the thought of food right now, but I appreciate the gesture all the same.

“Thank you,” I whisper, responding to something that’s been directed my way for the first time since my life imploded. “Coffee?” West asks, shifting me on his lap so he can pass me a takeout cup.

Lifting my head, I look up. My breath catches at the pain I find reflected back at me in West’s eyes.

The lump in my throat grows. I want to tell him that everything is going to be okay. But I can’t. There is a very good chance that it won’t be, and I refuse to lie to him.

“Thank you,” I mouth, wrapping my hands around the cup when he passes it over.

I let the warmth rush up my arms in the hope it’ll help soothe some of the pain.

It doesn’t.

I’m not sure anything can.

We all sip our drinks in silence, lost in our own thoughts.

I should get off West’s lap, I’m aware of that, but still, I never move.

His tight grip on my waist is helping to keep me together. I’m not brave enough to lose it.

Loud voices outside the small room we’ve taken over are the first sign we’re about to get company. The second is the door flying open a beat before Kane, Luca, Leon, Brax, and a handful of other Saints and Chiefs players spill into the room.

Suddenly, the space seems too small to contain us. I recognize everyone. Years of stalking Colt and his career means that I can name every single player on the Saints roster, but while he’s probably close to them, I have no idea who they really are and their presence right now makes me uncomfortable.

Brax drops into the empty chair beside us and takes my hand while the others step closer and offer West their support.

He thanks them as I keep my face tucked against his chest and focus on Kane, Luca, and Leon as they sweep my best friends into their arms.

The others move away, I assume to take a seat and wait with us.

I tense even more in West’s arms, and to my amazement, he understands.

“I appreciate the fuck out of this, I really do. But is there any chance you can wait elsewhere?” he asks.

“Shit, man. Yeah, of course,” someone says.

“There are a shitload of fans outside already,” another deep voice explains. “Everyone is rooting for him.”

West nods as the volume in the room thankfully lessens.

The second the door clicks shut, I look up at West.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I whisper.

“I did, El. This is about family.”

I hold his eyes for a beat before looking at Brax and then the couples on the other side of the room and nod.

Family.

“Did you bring me clothes?” West asks, making me look down to find him still in his sweaty undershirt and game pants.

“Yeah, man,” Leon says before throwing a bag over that lands at West’s feet.

“You okay?” he whispers to me a beat before passing me over to Brax.

I fight, suddenly aware of inflicting my weight on them when I could just sit on a chair like a normal person, but Brax’s arms wrap around my waist.

“I’ve got you, El.”

“B-but?—”

“But nothing. We’re right here. Let us be what you need right now.”