Clipped by Love
Page 88

How wrong was I?
“She’s good, no swelling was on the film, but she does have a nasty bruise. It’ll be tender for a couple days.”
“But I can play?” I ask him, and he nods.
“Sure, as long as you don’t get dizzy or get a really bad headache. If that happens, come in,” he answers with a nod. “But you’re in perfect health.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Dad says.
“No problem. To be sure though, I want you to stay overnight so I can check you again in the morning. In the meantime though, you have a room full of guys who are waiting to see you. Two of them have been sitting on the nurse’s desk, tag teaming the nurses and asking every five minutes when they can see you,” he says, and it’s obvious he’s annoyed by that.
Probably Jace and Markus.
They are so adorable.
Laughing, I nod. “I’d like to see them, please.”
“Just a second,” Dad says though, and I look over at him. “I want to talk to her before they come in.”
“Sure, just let the nurse know.”
“Will do, thank you, Doctor,” Dad says as he leaves, and my brow rises as I look at him.
“What’s up?”
Chewing on his lip, he holds up a finger almost like he is trying to collect his thoughts. Finally, he looks at me and says, “Bay, are you sure this is what you want?”
Confused by that, I ask, “What do you mean?”
“This, playing professionally with men?”
Looking at him like he’s crazy, I nod. “Duh, Dad, why are you asking that?”
“I have to be honest here. This was scary.”
“Dad,” I say with a laugh, “it isn’t the first time I’ve been in the hospital. It’s hockey, you are bound to get hurt.”
“But this time, it was intentional. They were gunning for you.”
Rolling my eyes, I suck in a deep breath. I don’t know why he is making a big deal out of this. “They always gun for me,” I say with a shrug. “It makes me stronger.”
“I don’t know, Bay, it makes me nervous. This is a college league. If you do make it—”
“You mean when,” I correct him as my heart starts to pound in my chest. “When it did change to if? Do you not believe in me anymore?”
Taking my hands into his, he shakes his head. “No, Bay, I do. It’s just if these boys can’t handle all your talent, how will the men in the NHL?”
“I don’t care what they can handle,” I snap, jerking my hands from his. I feel betrayed by him. Hasn’t he always fought for me to live my dreams? “I’m gonna make it and I’m going to kick ass.”
“But Baylor, it’s your safety. Be smart here.”
“And what, quit?” I yell, sitting up, ignoring the pain in my head. “I’m not a fucking quitter, Dad, and I don’t know what is wrong with you, but I don’t need you doubting me.”
“Damn it, Baylor!” he yells, standing up and slamming his hands against his hips. “I am thinking of your safety. I’m doing what any father would do.”
“No, you can’t do that. When it comes to hockey, you’re my coach! If this were another player, what would you say? ‘Suck it up, buttercup, and press on or you won’t get anywhere!’ I’ve heard you say it tons of times.”
“But those boys are not my baby,” he says softly, shaking his head. “Baylor, I can’t watch you get seriously hurt. I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t. If I fall, I get back up, no matter what,” I snap back. “If I fall six times, I get up seven!” I say, quoting him.
“Baylor—”
“No! I didn’t work this hard to give up after one little injury.”
“He hit you so hard, you flew five feet in the air!”
“But I’m getting up, and I’ll be on the ice tomorrow, working harder to be ready,” I say back, my hands trembling with anger.
“Maybe you aren’t ready for this league,” he suggests and my glare deepens, my heart sinking. How can he say that?
“Are you serious right now? Because I got hit by some bigger dude and he knocked me out, I’m not ready?”
“Yes, it was a nasty hit that can happen again.”
“Oh my God,” I sputter, shaking my head. He’s lost his fucking mind! “I’m done talking to you.”
“Excuse me?” he snaps, his brows going into his hairline.
“You aren’t being rational here. When did it change? When did your need for me to succeed vanish? You’ve pushed me—so fucking hard—my whole damn life, and now you want to play the dad card? No. That’s not fair. Believe in me or don’t, but I’m going into the draft and I’m going to get picked up and I’m going to bring the Cup home.”
Looking at me with narrowed eyes, he shakes his head. “Why does it matter so much, Baylor? You can be anything you want, but you’re gonna risk your safety? Why?”
“It matters because you gave it all up for me. I’m doing it all for you!” I yell at him, and his jaw goes slack as he holds my gaze. My eyes flood with tears as I say softly, “I work myself to death because I want to make you proud of me.”
“Baylor, I am proud of you,” he says, matching my tone. “I completely believe you can get into the NHL, I know you can. But how many hits are you gonna take before you get there?”
“As many as it takes,” I answer sharply. “I will win.”
Letting out a roar of frustration, he pins me with a dirty look, but I don’t care. This has been my dream since the day my skates hit the ice. I’m not letting anything derail my dreams. I can’t, no matter what he says.
Shaking my head, I cross my arms, looking back at him defiantly as he asks, “So I’m supposed to throw you to the wolves, then?”
“Nothing stopped you before, so why now?”
“Because before now, I never had to see you lie lifeless on the ice, Baylor Irene!”
“I got up. I’m fine.”
Rolling his eyes, he shoves his hand through his hair before looking over at me. I know he’s frustrated, but so am I. I need his support, I need him to believe in me, and right now, I don’t think he’s doing either those things. “Dad, I’m not quitting.”