Chapter 34

Cheyenne

It tookhours to sort everything out.

Police came, an ambulance was called, a bunch of detectives showed up, and then the media got wind that something was going on involving Cheyenne and Stevie Marchant. Ivan and I had to go down to the police station to give our statements, and Damien was arrested, but he was lying through his teeth. Stevie had been rushed to the hospital, so she couldn't even corroborate our stories, but I had a lawyer there within an hour and we were finally allowed to leave.

We headed straight to the hospital where Stevie had been taken, but she was in surgery, and no one would tell us anything.

"I'm so sorry I dragged you into this," I whispered as we settled in a private waiting room.

"I'm just glad I got there in time." He wrapped his arms around me, and it was like a dam opened because I burst into tears, burrowing into his shoulder. "Shh, everything is going to be okay."

"I was so scared."

"Me too."

"I'm so glad you came. He would have killed us."

"But he didn't." He kissed the top of my head. "I wish you'd waited for me."

"I know, but she was in a panic, and I thought we could just get out of there before he came back…" I started to cry again, and he stroked my hair until I finally got it out of my system.

"Here." He handed me a tissue and I blew my nose.

When I was a little calmer, I sat back in the chair and closed my eyes. "How did you know to come?"

"I sent you a text and you didn't see it or respond to it. I knew you wouldn't ignore me unless you had no choice."

"He took our phones and sent my driver away. I didn't even think to warn him that something bad might happen. I really thought we had time, but he recognized my driver and realized something was up. So, he sent him away and then came in through the back door instead of the front door. Completely caught us off guard."

"I didn't know any of that at the time, but I had a bad feeling. From the moment I told my mom what was going on and she pointed out the similarities between Stevie's situation and how my dad had treated her, I knew I needed to get to you as soon as possible."

"You're my hero." I opened my eyes and managed a wan smile.

"Next time, you'll wait for me, yes?"

I shuddered. "There isn't going to be a next time. You have my word on that."

"It's so hard to know what to do sometimes," he said. "You don't want to overstep your boundaries or behave like an overprotective neanderthal. I know you're a strong, independent woman who can take care of herself, but I just…I can't explain it. I knew something bad was going to happen."

"Is this another case of us not communicating?" I asked softly.

"No, I don't think so. It was an early morning flight, and the internet wasn't working. It happens. You texted me to tell me there had been a change of plans, and when I didn't hear from you after I landed, I knew something was up. Technically, nothing was going to stop Damien from hurting her. The writing was on the wall, but she refused to see it until it was too late."

"She's been treated badly by so many people, for most of her life. She no longer has a relationship with her parents or sister, she's had two previous engagements that went horribly wrong, and she was mistreated by an early agent. That's partly why I put up with her drama. I lived a lot of it with her, and she's so sweet, so giving and trusting and kind. You've only seen the negative parts of Stevie, but I promise—there's a great girl beneath all her trauma. She just needs someone to truly love her and treat her right."

"Well, now that this is over, we can let her heal and when she's ready, I have quite a few single buddies who'd be good to her."

"That sounds nice." I leaned against him, closing my eyes again.

"Hello, are you here for Stevie Marchant?" A doctor in scrubs came into the room, a grim look on his face.

"Yes." I quickly stood up. "How is she?"

"Well, she's stable now, but we were concerned for a while." He paused. "She was bleeding quite badly when she arrived, and we quickly realized she was having a miscarriage. Unfortunately, we weren't able to stop the bleeding and had to make a difficult decision."

I squeezed Ivan's hand. "Is she going to be okay?"

"She's going to recover but we had to do a hysterectomy. It was the only way to stop the bleeding."

"Oh no." I sucked in a breath.

A hysterectomy.

That meant Stevie would never have children.

And she wanted them.

Tears filled my eyes all over again.

"For now, she's in recovery and resting. I'll have someone let you know when she's moved to a regular room."

"Thank you," I whispered in a shaky voice.

"You're welcome."

He disappeared down the hall and I looked up at Ivan worriedly. "This is terrible."

"I know." He wrapped his arms around me.

* * *

Ivan stayedin New York with me that day and the next, helping me dig out of the media circus that surrounded this whole mess. The press had gotten wind that there was a new Stevie Marchant scandal, and were camped out at the hospital, in front of her Brownstone, and even my hotel. I hired private security to protect both her house and hospital room, as well as someone to be with me once Ivan left on Monday to meet the team.

I'd also hired security because Damien was out on bail.

The lawyer I'd hired had let us know, and Ivan refused to leave me until he knew both Stevie and I would be protected. I was always cognizant of security, but never more so than now.

Our lives were going to be crazy for a while, but I wasn't worried.

Ivan loved me and I loved him.

Like he'd said, we'd handle our inevitable separations as they happened.

He had to go to Montreal and, frankly, Stevie needed me right now. I'd put everything on the back burner so I could be there for her while she healed. She was a physical and emotional mess after learning that she'd had a hysterectomy, so I was more worried about her mental health than anything else.

I was planning to take her to L.A. so I could help take care of her there, but she wouldn't be ready to travel for a week or two.

In the meantime, Ivan was on a road trip anyway.

Stevie and I watched the game on my laptop in her hospital room.

She'd doze off periodically, but she woke up when Ivan scored in the second period.

"They're winning," she said softly.

I nodded. "Yup. 2-1."

"No, I mean, the team, as a whole. They played so bad last season, but now they're winning. A lot."

"Yeah, it's kind of cool, right?"

"It is." She sighed, her gaze drifting to the security guard posted outside the door. "Is he staying all night?"

"Yup. And his replacement will be here in the morning."

"What about you?"

"I have a separate team for me when I'm not here with you."

"I'm sorry." Her eyes filled with tears. "This is all my fault."

"Nothing is your fault. You can't control what other people do."

"But I seem to attract all the crazies. Like, seriously crazy guys who don't just break my heart, but hurt me in the worst possible ways."

"It's over now," I soothed. "We're going to L.A. next week and you're going to lie out in the sunshine and do nothing but heal. Addy says you can stay at her house while I'm in New York shooting for Alexa, and you'll spend Christmas with me, Ivan, and his mom."

A tear slipped down her cheek. "I'm usually alone on Christmas."

"Not this year."

"You're a good friend, Chey. My bestie."

I squeezed her hand just as Ivan scored again. "Whoop!" I let out a yell so loud the security guy stuck his head in the door.

"Everything okay, Ms. Chey?"

"Sorry." I grimaced. "Ivan just scored."

"Dammit. I'm missing the game." He grinned at me, and I laughed.

"I'll give you updates."

"Thanks."

He stepped back out, and I stared at the screen where my sexy Russian hockey stud was surrounded by his teammates.

I really loved that guy and couldn't wait to spend the rest of our lives together.