Dirty Score, A Rough Riders Hockey Novel(77)

“Our family, Rafe. Our family. You are as much a part of this family as Mia and Tate.” He sighed and smiled a little. “I knew you were special the first time I met you. And it had nothing to do with hockey and everything to do with the way you and Tate clicked. I always thought you two acted a lot like twins. I’ve never felt obligated or pressured to do anything for you, Rafe. And I’ve never regretted one minute or one penny invested in any of you kids. Everything that you and Tate and Mia have done over the years is a source of great pride to me. Pride I thrive on. Pride I brag about at every opportunity. So, don’t think for one minute that your part in this family is even a sliver smaller than Tate’s or Mia’s.”

More emotions spilled in and overloaded his circuits. His system couldn’t process them all, and he shut down, numbing them down to a point where he could function without imploding.

“Thank you, Joe.”

Joe reached over the side and covered Rafe’s hand with his own. “The only way I could be disappointed in you is if you didn’t go after what really makes you happy. And I think Mia makes you happy.”

Rafe frowned, confused. “But Tate, the team…shit, the playoffs.” Their loss that night filled Rafe’s mind, swamping him with guilt. “God, what a mess.”

Joe smiled and patted Rafe’s hand with his own. “I like to see it as a challenge. And if there is one thing I know about Rafe Savage, it’s that he excels at facing challenges.”





18





Rafe didn’t feel up to any challenge as he walked the hall toward Mia’s hotel room several hours later.

Joe had brought him back to the hotel from the ER, and Rafe had passed out in his room sometime around three a.m.

Only seven a.m. now, he knew it was too early to be pounding on Mia’s door, but he couldn’t sleep. And he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Couldn’t stop spinning all his mistakes around in his mind. Couldn’t stop trying to find a way to ease the pain he’d caused and repair the damage he’d done.

And when he wound his way around a laundry service cart in the hallway and approached Mia’s door with no answers, he surveyed a spot on the floor at the bottom of the wall beside her door and prepared to sit. But when he put his hand against the wall for support to help him get to that spot without falling on his face, he noticed a gap between the door and the frame. Following that space to the door handle, he found it ajar.

Alarm jumped in his chest. He checked the room numbers first, and when he was sure it was hers, Rafe put his fingertips against the door and eased it open. “Mia?”

A female voice with a Spanish inflection returned some sort of answer Rafe didn’t understand, and he opened the door wide enough to find a woman in a housekeeping uniform pulling sheets from the bed.

She smiled at him. “Oh. Hello. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” From the short hallway leading to the room, he scanned the space. All her things were gone. Her suitcase, her computer, all her charging cords.

She was gone? Mia was gone?

“Is your room?” the housekeeper asked in broken English. “You need be here? I go?”

A wave of sadness hit him so hard, tears flooded his eyes in an instant. He blinked fast to hold them back and rubbed a hand down his face. “No,” he told her, his voice rough. “Thank you. It’s fine.”

Rafe backed out of the room and kept on moving until he hit the wall across the hallway, where he stood and stared at the floor, trying to figure out what the hell was going on inside him.

He’d assumed the texts and voice mails he’d left after talking with Joe at the hospital had gone unanswered because she’d been asleep. But that obviously wasn’t the case. And while he knew she had every right to be hurt and angry and even to move on with her life and never look back, he never realized until this moment that he never thought she really would.

He’d also never realized just how devastating that would feel. How very different it felt for him to walk away from someone—even Mia—than to be the one left behind. And how often Mia had experienced that. All because she’d loved Rafe too much to fully give herself to anyone else.

Lifting both hands, he covered his face and rested his head.

Should I just let her go?

The thought twisted the knife in his gut. Rafe couldn’t ever remember a time when he’d reached out for Mia when she hadn’t been there.

“I won’t accept anything less than 150 percent in any of my relationships anymore. And this time, I’m going to be the one to walk away.”

She’d made that hard call in the face of extreme pressure. Rafe knew it had to have been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. And now that she’d taken that step and made the break, maybe it would be better for Mia if he just…