13. Ellie

Ellie

I held his hand.

He lay in a hospital bed that appeared too small for his big body, a bandage wrapped around his head. One of his teammates had told me he had a mild concussion and two bruised ribs, and that Grey would be fine in a day or two.

Seeing him lying there, sleeping, or unconscious, brought me nearly to tears. He looked so helpless despite his obvious strength. No number of assurances that he'd be fine were helpful. Several members of his team had looked in on him as I sat there, surely wondering what my relationship to Grey was.

His eyes blinked, unfocused, staring first straight ahead before he finally turned his head to see me.

"Hi," I hushed.

"Hi back."

I smiled, squeezing his fingers. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been run over by a Mack truck."

Grey's green eyes suddenly narrowed, fixing on my face. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw the news. No way I wasn't coming to see you and make sure you're okay."

"Ah."

Taking a deep breath, he winced, taking his hand from mine to cradle his chest. "Word will start getting around."

"No one knows anything, except that we're friends."

"Yeah, maybe."

"That's what I tell your guys. You helped me out, we got to be friends."

Grey smiled slightly. "That could work."

"It is working. Stop worrying about it."

"Okay."

He fixed his gaze on me again. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too."

Of course, we looked at one another as though drinking in the sight of each other's faces, memorizing, as though this would be the last time we ever saw them. It may very well be the last time. If he hadn't been hurt in last night's game, I'd never have approached him. We agreed to walk away.

Still, I couldn't do that until I knew he'd be okay.

We might have continued to stare through the afternoon without speaking, if Colton hadn't walked in.

He glanced between Grey and I, as though he'd caught us doing something improper. As I was no longer holding Grey's hand, and sitting in the chair beside the bed, he couldn't have suspected there was more to our relationship than simple friendship. Grey rescued me. Colton knew it. He'd been told we were friends.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Ellie," he commented, setting the flower arrangement he'd brought on a table.

"Why not?" I glowered, refusing to give up my seat. "Grey saved my ass. I heard about what happened on the news."

Innocent stuff. No reason for Colton to be suspicious. Yet the sharp look he sent me told me he was.

Suspicious.

"She came by to see how I am," Grey added, rubbing his chest. "Thanks for the flowers."

"You bet." Colton perched his hip on the far edge of Grey's bed. "How you are doing, Dad?"

"Sore as hell. Did you leave work to come see me?"

As Colton wore his business suit with the tie yanked loose, I guessed he had.

"There was some stuff I had to deal with," Colton replied. "As soon as I could get away, I came here."

"Glad you did," Grey remarked. "We won last night. Now we're in the playoffs."

"So I heard. That's great, Dad. I also saw that Toronto is getting fined out the wazoo for their behavior. You know, trying to kill you and all."

Grey chuckled, wincing. "They won't learn. Nor will they ever forgive me for showing them up."

Colton grinned. "My dad, MVP yet again. Unbeatable."

"Maybe the powers that be will give me a raise."

"They should." Colton eyed me. "Is there something going on between you two?"

"Like what?" Grey asked, his tone bland.

"I don't know," Colton admitted. "You just seem…cozy with each other."

"He's my friend," I snapped. "He gave me a shoulder to cry on when you kicked my ass to the curb. He kept me safe in the blizzard. Of course I'm gonna be cozy with him."

"Your imagination is running wild," Grey added.

"I don't like you seeing each other," Colton said firmly. "Even as friends."

"That's not your decision to make," Grey snapped, glowering. "I'll be friends with Ellie if I so choose."

"Dad, she's my girlfriend," Colton protested. "How's that gonna look to the Viper fans?"

"I'm not your girlfriend, dumbass," I growled. "Get over yourself already."

"I told you I'm not giving up on you. I love you."

"That's also not up to you," Grey said. "Ellie told you to kiss her ass, didn't she?"

Colton blinked. "She told you?"

"I confided in him, you piece of shit." I shook with the rage I suppressed, due to my being in a hospital room, and forced my voice to remain low. "My prerogative, and none of your fucking business. I'm never going back. Got it? Never."

Colton stood. "It looks like I'm outnumbered here. My dad and my girlfriend joining together to humiliate me."

"You know you did that to yourself," Grey commented dryly. "You think you can treat Ellie the way you did, then expect her to just forgive and forget? Son, you have a shitload of learning to do."

"Do I?" Colton stared first at him, then at me. "Maybe you need to learn, Dad, that Ellie is a treacherous bitch."

I gasped. "You fucker. You slept with Lindy for months while sleeping with me! So who's the treacherous one here?"

"You drove me to it, baby. I hated loving while you lay there like a frigid log."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How dare Colton twist everything to blame me for his actions. For an instant, a very brief instant, I knew the sort of rage that led to murder. The soul deep anger and hatred that had if I had a gun in my hand, Colton would be dead. Grey would lose his son, and I would jailed for life.

"Get out," a rough voice said, bringing me back.

Colton glanced at Grey. "What?"

"Get out of here, you victim blaming little shit." Grey had clenched his teeth and appeared ready to fling himself at Colton regardless of his bruised ribs and concussion. "I can't believe you are so cowardly that you'd blame Ellie for what you yourself did. Where are your balls? Where's your fucking spine? Get out of my sight, and don't come back."

His body rigid, Colton stared at Grey for a long moment. Without another word, or a backward glance, he stepped out of the room.

The door hissed closed behind him.

I looked down at my hands, shaking all over. Shutting my jaw failed to quell the rolling fury that consumed me. I couldn't think. I couldn't hear much over the roar of my heartbeat in my ears. Most of all, I couldn't look Grey in the eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said gently.

I stood. Through numb lips, I muttered, "I hope you get better soon."

"Ellie…"

If I didn't leave right then, I'd no idea what I might do. Scream, throw his vase of flowers against the wall, or perhaps both. Barely feeling my feet on the floor, I followed on Colton's heels.

"Ellie, wait!"

Ignoring Grey, I walked into the hallway, like Colton, without looking back. Hardly paying attention to where I was going, I strode past patients in hospital johnnies and nurses in colorful scrubs while a speaker overhead played classical music. I arrived at the end of the hall, made the only turn―a right―and discovered I faced a set of double doors that proclaimed in stark lettering, No Admittance. Authorized Personnel Only.

I had no idea where I was.

Reversing, I walked back, my head down, passing the nurses' station and nearly colliding with an elderly man pushing his oxygen tank ahead of him.

"'Scuse me." Ducking around him, I saw the sign that read "elevators" with an arrow pointing to the left. Amid doctors staring at charts, a pair of nurses discussing what they planned to do that evening, I looked at the floor while waiting for the elevator to arrive. Once inside, I stepped to the rear, my mind blank, my anger and hurt surging within me like a tsunami on steroids.

The gray afternoon had morphed into dark, windy, and threatening a storm. The bitter cold sliced through my coat with the ease of a hot knife into ice cream. My hair whipping across my eyes, the wind bringing stinging tears, I searched for my piece-of-shit car in the parking lot.

By the time I found it, I shivered from more than just my rage. I drove home on autopilot, hearing Colton's stone-cold voice in my head playing the same song.

You drove me to it, baby love. I hated loving while you lay there like a frigid log.

I couldn't rid my mind of him. Over and over, he spoke, condemning me, justifying his actions, blaming me, crushing my heart under his bootheel. Under the ever-thickening clouds and the heavy wind, I climbed the steps to the apartment I once shared with him, when I believed in fairy tales and was happy.

I didn't turn on the lights.

Still shivering uncontrollably, I changed from jeans and my blouse into a sweatshirt and matching pants. But I couldn't get warm. Opening the fridge, I seized a bottle of wine and took it to the couch. After wrapping myself in a blanket, I sat as the darkness grew, and snow tapped at my windows.

Drinking straight from the bottle, I sat, shivering, unable to think straight. More to the point, I barely thought at all. The wine went down smoothly, and, on my empty stomach, would enter my blood without much of a hindrance. I wanted that. The sweet oblivion of drunkenness, to let myself free fall for the first time in my life.

My cell buzzed from where I tossed it on the table by the door with my keys.

Of course, I ignored it. I had no one in the world. Who'd want to call me?

A few moments later, it beeped, informing me I had a voice message.

Who gives a flying fuck? This is the field where I have sown my fucks. It is barren. I have no more fucks to give.

Full darkness fell. The storm heightened in intensity, the wind screaming around the building. Though my furnace worked, blasting out heat, I still failed to get warm. My shivering eased slightly, but never went away. Watching the snow blow past the window didn't help much.

I have no more fucks to give…

My mind wandered back to that night in a storm not far removed from this one. The bitter cold and howling wind as I trudged into death. My thoughts of human predators who roamed the highways and byways of America. How that thought had scared me.

Not the notion I'd freeze to death.

I wanted to freeze. The slow advance of hypothermia, making me want to just lie down and sleep. To sleep. Sleep…and never wake up.

You just had to rescue me, didn't you? You should have just passed me by. If you had, I'd be blissfully dead. No longer hurting, no longer angry, the pain of this world gone as swiftly as a snowflake in the sun.

I drank the bottle dry. Then I went to the kitchen for another.

My blanket around me, the sweet darkness enfolding me, I longed for what Grey had stolen from me.

An escape from this cold and bitter hell.