"Let's talk," he said with a nod to a private room near the door.

I knew this was coming. You couldn't bring a girl into the hospital who had been left for dead and not be questioned.

He was tall, probably close to six-foot-two, and completely bald, though it was clear it was by choice and not genetics. His head was shiny, almost like he'd rubbed some kind of oil over it. Maybe he had. I didn't trust him already.

He was also younger than any detective I'd ever seen and dressed casually in jeans and a polo shirt. Shouldn't they be wearing suits?

"Evan Masen? I'm detective Paulsen." He spoke in a low voice, the tone catching me off guard, never offering me a hand shake or anything, all business. "Can I speak to you in private?"

"Yeah, sure."

He had just shut the door when he looked up at me and went for it. "What were you doing in an alley?" he demanded, more accusing than questioning.

"I was walking home," I told him, trying to keep my cool. I wanted to yell at him for questioning my motivations. I saved her life, yet they acted as though I had something to do with her injuries.

"Who was with you?"

"I was alone when I found her." I took a deep breath, managing to keep my anger under wraps.

"What were you doing out so late?" he asked.

"Getting dinner with one of my teammates."

"Where were your other teammates?"

"It's a big city. I have no clue. Probably at one of the local bars."

"So it was just you walking around at two in the morning?"

By then I was pretty annoyed, and he was about to find out just how much. "I'm an NHL hockey player. I just got back from Detroit and was hungry and had dinner with a teammate, Shelby Wright. After dinner I was on my way home, alone."

"What time was that?"

"f.u.c.k, I don't know...late?"

"So you're telling me you were walking around at two in the morning on your way home? You're sticking to that story?"

"What are you saying?" I was instantly defensive after everything I'd been through over the last day. This girl and this situation were doing a number on me.

"Well, if you think your lawyer can defend you against a crime such as rape just because you're a professional athlete, you've got another thing coming." He snorted, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair.

I did have a good f.u.c.king lawyer. Too bad I hadn't contacted him yet.

I leaned forward, intending on making my next words sink in. Either that or I was about to punch a cop. "I. Didn't. Do. It!"

He gave me a nod, finally accepting the truth or possibly just humoring me.

"Do you have any leads?"

"We have a few, but nothing has panned out yet. A few witnesses came forward. She was walking home from Ballet Chicago where she was at her cla.s.s. She's enrolled there, and her cla.s.s lets out at seven. We a.s.sume she must have been walking home, but she lives on South Lake Sh.o.r.e. That's a long walk. Like I said, we don't have a lot of details."

From what that detective said, she lived at Regents Park in the Indian Village, which was located on South Lake Sh.o.r.e. Ballet Chicago was on North State Street. I actually pa.s.sed by it on my way home. All the details just didn't add up. Why would she be walking that late at night when her cla.s.s got out at seven? I found her at nearly two in the morning. Had she been out there that long?

"Have you spoken with her dance instructor?"

The detective looked over at me, deciding whether or not to answer me after I got so testy with him. "He's being brought in for questioning, along with a few others that were spotted in the area at the time of the incident."

I called my lawyer after that. He didn't pick up, but I left him a message letting him know I might need his services really soon.

Since it was Christmas Eve, and I still hadn't been home yet, I decided I would leave for a little while and at least take a shower.

After I showered and crawled into bed for the night, I tried not to think about that girl, but f.u.c.k if she wasn't in every thought. I knew myself well enough to know I wouldn't be able to walk away from her. This wouldn't be the end, even though I wanted it to be. I didn't want to go back to that hospital. I saved her. That should have been enough. Being attached to a girl like that was not what I needed right now.

As I tried to sleep, the way she looked, the tests she endured, her attack, all the vivid memories clung to my mind. Visions of her blood spilled over white snow, her pale face, and helpless state...f.u.c.k.

I groaned, throwing my legs over the side of my bed around two that morning, and headed to down the hall to where my weights and treadmill were.

Working out seemed to do the trick for a while, but she was never far from my thoughts. Just like in a game, play had stopped against the boards for me. I was frozen, waiting for it to get loose, and play to start again.

When I got back to my room, my pile of b.l.o.o.d.y clothes caught my attention, and I had to get rid of them. I wondered if he felt bad for what he did. I wondered what he was doing right now.

Was he staring at a pile of b.l.o.o.d.y clothes, too?

Was he feeling any regret?

Was he wondering if she made it?

Did he think she was dead?

The gaps my mind filled in were the worst part for me, especially after seeing what I had. I imagined her walking alone and then some guy attacking her. I imagined her screaming, fighting for her life, frantically trying to get him off her, and then her just taking it, knowing she had no chance.

The images were enough to make me physically sick, and they did. I couldn't even eat. So I couldn't sleep, couldn't focus, and now I couldn't eat. I was f.u.c.ked.

As far as I was concerned, it didn't matter if this guy was sorry for what he had done. That didn't mean a G.o.dd.a.m.n thing to me anymore.

Why?

Because while I was throwing out those b.l.o.o.d.y clothes, and that girl was fighting just to make it another day, that motherf.u.c.ker was free right now. No f.u.c.king way I was settling for that.

Zone Three areas made up by the two blue lines. The attacking zone is the area farthest from the goal a player is defending. The neutral zone is the central area. The defending zone is the area where a player's goal is and where the team's goalie is stationed.

After I went home and couldn't sleep, I took two showers, and then sat in my living room watching highlights from the Eastern Conference games. When nothing took my mind off her, I decided to go back to the hospital.

When I got there her doctor wasn't around, but they said he lived only a few minutes away. Now that I thought about, I had recognized him. He lived in the same building as me.

The poor nurse on call Christmas Day had said the doctor had to go back in last night and perform another surgery. He ended up leaving her skull flap open to allow pressure relief. I understood none of it but did a lot of nodding.

They let me see her again, and the same gut wrenching feeling came over me. I was relieved a little to see that she was still alive, but then a nagging sadness crept in. I It was Christmas, and she had no one but me.

Knowing Leo wouldn't be traveling this Christmas, I called him.

When I told him what happened, he immediately came to the hospital. He claimed I shouldn't be alone.

"I wonder who did this to her?" Leo said, sitting next to me in the waiting room. His usual curly, light brown hair was matted to one side. Judging by his tired, bloodshot eyes, he must have had a long night, but probably nothing like mine.

"I don't know, but every time I think about it I want to f.u.c.king kill the guy." I shook my head, staring at the tile floor. Leaning back in the chair, I crossed my arms over my chest, shifting my weight to the side. "What the f.u.c.k possesses someone to do that s.h.i.t?"

Leo's eyes caught a nurse as she walked pa.s.sed. "Not sure, man. Hey, would it be weird if I asked that girl to exam my d.i.c.k. It's itchy."

"Yes, that would be weird. Don't do that."

"Fine. You look at it. Tell me if I'm dying." Leo stood reaching for the b.u.t.ton of his jeans, his dark flannel pushed up showing me his stomach. "I'm really worried."

Before he had the chance to unb.u.t.ton his jeans, I punched his stomach with a good amount of force behind it.

He fell over, clutching his gut, sputtering out, "You're such a jerk sometimes."

"Well, I'm confused. At what point in our relationship did you think it would be okay to show me your d.i.c.k?"

He coughed for a while and then got back in the chair beside me.

"Oh hey, look!" Leo nudged my ribs, still a little winded, pointing toward another nurse walking our direction with a handful of gray files stacked in one hand and a cup of Starbucks coffee in her other. "Isn't that Natalie?"

My eyes squinted, and I remembered her, well her lips anyway. They gave me some good memories if I remembered correctly. She walked right by us until Leo whistled and she stopped. "You really gonna ignore two Blackhawks?"

Natalie stopped, glanced over her shoulder, and then gave a half smile and walked over to us. "Let me guess, waitin' on Remy?"

Leo laughed, reaching for her badge, and then snagged it from her scrubs, sticking it in his pocket. "No, Mase here is stalking a girl in the ICU."

"Leo!" I smacked him again, this time on the side of the head.

Natalie reached for her name tag back, and Leo put his hand over his pocket, waving his hand at her, simultaneously flipping me off. "If you want this you gotta check something for me."

"What?"

"Wrong question to ask," I told her, watching the snow fall from the window behind her.

"My d.i.c.k." Leo once again reached for his jeans, this time getting the top b.u.t.ton undone before Natalie kicked his shin. "It's red," he defended as if that would make dropping his pants in a hospital okay.

"I'm not that kind of doctor."

"You're a doctor?"

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Yes. I'm a pediatrician. Why?"

"I thought you were a nurse," I said, looking to the snow again.

"No. I never said that." Natalie seemed offended that I thought she was a nurse, her weight shifting from one foot to the other. She set her coffee down to reach for her badge again. "Give me that, Leo."

Leo chuckled, shaking his hand at her. "Check out my d.i.c.k and you can have your badge back."

With a groan, I left the two of them bickering over d.i.c.ks and badges to find the vending machines. Wandering around, I tried to ask myself what the h.e.l.l I was even doing here.

It was Christmas. Shouldn't I be with my family?

My parents weren't happy with me missing Christmas, but when I explained the situation, they understood. Growing up, values held a lot of importance in our house. My parents had tried to instill their beliefs in me and my sister. As far as I was concerned, they had. Among those beliefs were honesty, loyalty, respect, love, and hard work. You worked for what you wanted.

Maybe sometimes you got lucky and didn't have to work as hard, but still, you worked hard.

I liked to think I still had those qualities, despite my lifestyle, and maybe that was the reason why I was here waiting for this girl to wake up.

When I got back to the waiting room Natalie was gone, but Leo was asleep in the chair I left him in. I kicked his left leg, and he jumped, looking around and glaring. "What the f.u.c.k was that for?"

"Oh sorry. I tripped." I had just sat down when a nurse wearing navy scrubs came over to us.

"Which one of you is Evan Masen?" When she said my name her eyes lifted from the clipboard to meet mine and then back to the clipboard as if she had to be sure. A smile came over her. "You're Evan Masen with the Chicago Blackhawks, aren't you?"

I nodded, raising my eyebrows as if to say, "What do you want?" but I wasn't rude about it.

Leo sat up in the chair, reaching for her badge. She was quicker than Natalie was and slapped his hand away. "Don't touch that." Then she recognized him. "Oh hey, you're Leo Orting!" Leo must have been her favorite player. As soon as she looked at his charming smile, her att.i.tude was completely different.

Next thing I knew Leo was asking her to dinner.

"Why did you really come over here?" I interrupted.

"Oh, uh, Ami Sutton's in room five on the third floor if you want to see her. I was told to pa.s.s that information on to you. They'll allow you back there for a little while, but where she's at visitors are not allowed. Seems the doctor pulled a few strings, and now I know why." She smiled at Leo, who in turn gave her a c.o.c.ky nod. I had a feeling he was about to make her Christmas unforgettable later that night.

I hadn't realized how late it had gotten, but it was now ten o'clock in the morning. On a day when most people were opening presents, Ami was fighting for her life. It just didn't seem like Christmas to me.

Part of me thought maybe I could catch a quick flight to Pittsburgh and see my family, but the other part, the part that couldn't sleep and was here at the hospital, didn't want to leave.

Christmas with the Masen family was always a major production. Our entire family came over-aunts, uncles, cousins, and even friends gathered in our suburban home for the entire day. Fights between my cousins and me usually broke out, and most of the time my dad would pick a fight with his older brother when one would bet the other he couldn't do something.

It was always off the wall s.h.i.t, too, like, "I bet you can't jump off the roof and land it," as though that was something two fifty-year-old men should be doing.

My mother, the soft spoken woman that she was, took it all in good humor and entertained. Being a professional caterer, parties were her thing, and drama was part of the game. Wendy, the nurse, who now had Leo hanging off her arm, led me to the third floor where the ICU was and pointed to the door. After she left, I opened the door to see Ami lying in bed, looking much the same as yesterday. Wendy gestured to the room. "Talk to her. She has no one."

I swallowed, trying to nod, but instead I shook my head and turned to the door. The churning in my gut, the fog in my head, the uncontrolled beating of my heart had returned as did the images.

She looked worse today, as if the real trauma was making itself known. The blood had been cleaned from her hands and face now, but dark bruises were scattered across any skin that was showing and were outlined by bright red splotches. Everywhere I looked her skin was colored.

Immediately, my mind went to what she had to have gone through. The beating, the force of his. .h.i.ts to do this damage, it was repulsive. It was one thing to hear about someone being raped or beaten, but to see it-see the aftermath and see the person struggling for their life-that was different. It made the reality alive. It happened so often most didn't blink an eye. I knew this sort of s.h.i.t happened, and I didn't think it was right, but I also never gave it much thought. Now, it was all I could think about.

This girl was only a few years older than my fifteen-year-old sister. What if this happened to her?

My hands clenched at the thought.

I was p.i.s.sed. I wanted to find the guy and kill him. I wanted him right here in this room so he could to see the damage he did. I wanted him to beg for his repentance and bleed right along with her.