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Cross Checked (Shots on Goal #2)
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Cross Checked
A Shots on Goal Standalone
Kristen Hope Mazzola
Contents
Introduction
Note From the Author
All books by Kristen Hope Mazzola
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Want more of Cross Checked’s Characters?
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Hat Trick
Prologue
Chapter 1
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
CROSS CHECKED
Copyright © 2017 Kristen Hope Mazzola
Published by Kristen Hope Mazzola
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Published: Kristen Hope Mazzola 2017
Cover Design: Kristen Hope Mazzola
Cover Images: © Fxquadro #121859077 / stock.adobe.com
Formatting by: Kristen Hope Mazzola
Editing by:
C. Marie: [email protected]
Jordan Bates
Proof Reading by:
Patti Correa: [email protected]
Created with Vellum
Introduction
Synopsis:
One accident - a freaking car crash. That’s all it took to send my life into a tailspin.
Little did I know that out of the wreckage, everything would fall into place. I would get everything I had ever worked for.
Little did I know that I would find the woman who would cross check my life, flipping everything upside down.
Even though she's melting the ice that surrounds my heart, I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Will I ever be able to find my footing or am I destined to stay pinned against the boards?
Cross Checked is the second book in the Shots On Goal Series. It can be read as a standalone, has a happily ever after, and does not have a cliffhanger. There are character crossovers from Hat Trick (book one in the series) which is also a standalone with a HEA and no cliffhanger.
Note From the Author
Thank you for reading Cross Checked. In doing so, you have helped fulfill a very important goal of mine. From every purchase of any of my books, I donate to the Marcie Mazzola Foundation. The mission of the foundation is to "help better the lives of abused and at-risk children, and to build community awareness regarding the needs of children."
The Marcie Mazzola Foundation was established in 2003 by my family. On July 6, 2002, Marcie died tragically in an automobile accident. Although she was only 21 at the time of her death, Marcie had experienced many things and touched many lives. She was a beautiful young woman whose inner beauty surpassed even her physical beauty because of her compassionate nature and treatment of others.
At the time of her death, Marcie was involved in a civil lawsuit against a school bus driver who had sexually abused her when she was 11 years old. Prior to her death, it had been expected that the case would be won, but since Marcie could no longer testify, it was going to be next to impossible to win. Marcie’s attorney met with her family to determine if the suit should be continued. He advised the family that Marcie had confided in him her intention to donate her entire award to help sexually and physically abused children if she won the case. Once this was known, the family had no doubt that the suit had to continue.
The attorney’s strong commitment to Marcie prompted him to proceed with the case, and against all odds, it was won. Marcie’s estate was awarded a monetary settlement. With her attorney’s guidance and continued support, the family established a foundation as a tribute to Marcie’s life, which would continue her legacy to help children.
To learn more about The Marcie Mazzola Foundation, please visit: http://www.marciemazzolafoundation.org
Marcie Mazzola Foundation
158 Burr Road, Commack, NY 11725
phone: 631-858-1855 • fax: 631-462-8544 email: [email protected]
All books by Kristen Hope Mazzola
The Crashing Series:
Crashing: The Wedding: Cali’s Story (Crashing #0.5)
Crashing Back Down (Crashing #1)
Falling Back Together (Crashing #2)
The Unacceptables MC Standalone Series:
Unacceptable
Unspeakable
The Hysterics Standalone Series:
The Hysterics
Colt & Serena: A Hysterics Short Story
Shots On Goal Standalone Series:
Hat Trick
Cross Checked
Cherry Picked (Coming 3-14-17)
Low Blow (Coming 4-18-17)
Standalones:
Stupid Hearts
Rough & Tumble
Boxsets:
The Crashing Series
Lust & Love
The Huntress Series (co-written with Dawn Robertson):
The Huntress (Book 1)
The Hopeless (Book 2)
The Nameless (Book 3)
The 69 Series:
(multi-author collaborations for charity)
Hook & Ladder 69
Bleed Blue 69
“Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won’t adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is to sign on as its accomplice. Instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet. That would mean that security is out of the question. The words “make” and “stay” become inappropriate. My love for you has no strings attached. I love you for free.” - Tom Robbins
Prologue
Brayden
I could hear the muffled sounds of my mom talking on the phone as the strong aroma of maple bacon woke me up. Within seconds, I was down in the kitchen, listening to grease pop in the pan as she scrambled eggs, the black house phone pinned between her cheek and right shoulder. She smiled sweetly at me, mouthing, “Good morning, honey.”
“I will see you on Monday with those damn papers finally signed and in hand. Talk to you then.” My mom put the cordless back onto the charging cradle on the counter next to her, her dirty blonde hair swept up into its usual low ponytail. I took a seat at the breakfast table and watched her cook as she hummed to herself.
“What has you in such a good mood this morning?” I asked.
With her singsong voice, my mother beamed at me. “I am going to get those divorce papers signed today if it is the last thing I do.”
“What are you going to do? We’ve sent them to the jerk at least a dozen times. He keeps refusing.”
“Your sister and I are going up there later today. He won’t be able to say no to our faces. I mean, your sister’s puppy eyes and my cold, heartless glare are the perfect recipe to get him to finally divorce me.” She laughed a little, a silent chuckle that lit up her makeup-less face.
“Do you really think that is a good idea?” Right then, my stomached started to growl; one thing mom was definitely good at was making me hungry as all hell.
She stared blankly at me while portioning out scrambled eggs and bacon onto plates for us. “Honestly, Brayden, I have run out of options.” The defeat that washed over her small frame broke my heart. I knew that all she wanted was to be done with my father, once and for all, but he was putting up too much of a fight and it was starting to wear on all of us. I hated how it had started a rift in the family, but I also owed it to my mom and sister to be honest about my feelings. It was my responsibility to protect them from him.
I sighed. “I just feel like there are other ways to handle this. It is just going to upset you and Myla while giving him something he wants—to see you.”
My mom and I sat eating in silence for a couple of minutes. I hated disagreeing with her, but I had strong feelings when it came to anything to do with my father and she had raised me to speak my mind.
“I have to get ready for practice.” I shoved away from the table. If I couldn’t talk mom out of going to see the jerk of the century, maybe there was hope with Myla.
I trudged up the stairs, lightly tapping on her half-open door. “Hey sis, have a sec?” The squeaky old wood flooring made my presence known before the words escaped my throat. My sister Myla was sitting on the edge of her bed reading as I made my way into her pink and gold covered bedroom. I could tell she wanted to be left alone, but we needed to talk. Ever since our father had been sent to prison, the entire family was barely keeping it together, but Myla was taking it the worst.
She glanced up at me over a worn-out hardcover copy of one of her cherished Harry Potter books. “What’s up, Brayden?”
I took a seat next to her, taking a deep breath as the bed springs whined under my weight. “Maybe it’s time to get you a new mattress.” Small talk was never my specialty, but ya can’t blame me for trying.
“What do you want, Brayden? I am just about to my favorite part where Dobby gets a sock and is freed from the Malfoys,” Myla hissed. The frustration on her face made me want to laugh so hard; my sister was the biggest nerd in the world and I loved her so freaking much for it. She was also incredibly adorable when she scowled; it was always hard for my parents to reprimand her or take her seriously when she was mad because all they ever wanted to do was smile and laugh.
After a deep breath, I finally dove right into the real reason I was bothering her. “You know you don’t have to go today. Mom will understand.” I grabbed my sister’s petite hand, trying to offer as much support as possible.
“I am already on the guest list. I don’t want to hurt Dad like that.” Her eyes snapped away from mine. “Can you image how much that would suck for him if he was expecting me to be there and then I chickened out? That’s not fair.”
My blood started to boil. “Not fair? Hurt him? You’re fucking worried about hurting that jerk’s feelings? You have got to be freaking kidding me. Myla, when are you going to grow up and realize that the only good thing that ever came from that man was the fact that we were born?”
She shot up to her feet, face redder than a ripened tomato. “How dare you say that! He was a great father until he got injured! You of all people should know how fucking hard it is for a player to be taken off the ice. If you couldn’t play anymore, how do you think you would react? Bitter? Drunk? Asshole? All of it would be warranted. He does not need us turning our backs on him now.”
I started to walk toward her bedroom door, knowing there wasn’t any reasoning with her about this and that upsetting her was the last thing I wanted to do. “He murdered an entire family because he was drunk and barred out of his skull. One day that will sink in.”
As I shut her door, I knew I had hurt her, but facts were facts. Our father was not a good person, and he sure as hell hadn’t been a good father in years.
Karla
Sitting in a patient’s room while they slept probably was not the best way for me to spend the middle of my night shift, but there was something about this young girl that really got to me. Her brother had seemed so shaken when he left, and I knew he wouldn’t want his sister to be alone. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through. I hated having to send him home, but the visitor rules for the critical care unit were strictly enforced and I was not looking to get in trouble.
I pulled out my cellphone and saved his name in my phone. I typed Brayden Cox into the field slowly, trying to put a finger on where I had heard that name before. I felt like I should know who these two were, but I just couldn’t place it.
After doing one last check of Myla’s monitors and printing out her vitals, I made my way to the break room for some much-needed coffee.
“Hey, Karla.” Rich looked up over the New York Times that was grasped firmly in his hands.
I waved sweetly. “Long night so far, huh?”
Rich’s graying beard was perfectly trimmed around his pursed smile. “Definitely a light night. How’s the Cox girl doing?”
“Fine,” I muttered, filling up my thermos with steaming black goodness. “I feel like I’ve seen their name before.”
Rich nodded. “I’m sure you have. That family was all over the news for a long time. The dad, Reggie Cox, was a big-time Otters player, and his son just got on the team. That girl in there, Myla, she is a big deal in her own right—scouted for the Olympic skating team and everything. Reggie hit the bottle real hard when he couldn’t be on the ice anymore and not too long ago killed a whole family in a drunk-driving accident. Real sad, if you ask me. One minute you have everything and then the next, your life is a one-way ticket to hell.”
I stood in shock, trying to process the horror Rich had described. How could one family go through all that crap? And now the mom was dead on top of all of it. When is enough, enough?
“That’s just so heartbreaking. How does a family survive something like that?”
Rich shrugged. “They really got the shit end of the stick, for damn sure.” Checking his watch, Rich shoved away from the table.
“Gonna check on her?” I asked.
He nodded. “Take a load off. Lord knows you work hard enough for all of us. You deserve a quick break.”
Taking a seat in a cold, plastic chair, I watch as Rich leaves the room. You’d think the hospital would want the break room to be comfortable for their staff, but it was the complete opposite. The stark white walls were bare, and dull gray and blue covered the rest of the small space. There was a microwave and a large white refrigerator that were both practically dinosaurs and made crazy noises from time to time for no reason at all. Even though it wasn’t the most inviting of spaces, it suited its purpose.
My hands shook as I thought about the Cox family. One minute they were on the top of the world, and the next their lives had crumbled into the rubble of broken dreams. After slurping down the last drops of coffee, I tried to put my emotions to the side. That was the hardest part of my job for me—separating my emotions and not bringing the sadness home with me. I said a silent prayer for Myla and her brother and rinsed out my cup.
I did my rounds, doing coffee-fueled passes through each of the ICU
patients’ rooms to make sure everything was going well for them. The rest of my shift was smooth for the most part, other than an older lady screaming to high heaven about needing more pain pills after a spine surgery from three in the morning until the end of my shift. My heart went out to her, but there was nothing I could do other than call her pain management doctor and let him take it from there. Nothing really to write home about when it was all said and done. Myla was doing well, and that was all I really cared about.
Chapter 1
Karla
I got to my car in the parking lot and pulled out my phone. I scrolled through until I found Brayden’s contact before rattling off a quick text to him:
Just letting you know, your sister did great overnight. I gave your number to the day nurse and will check in later to see how you two are doing. Take care – Karla.
Checking the dash, I saw that it was half past seven in the morning. I hoped my message didn’t wake him, but it was better for him to have some piece of mind to wake up to than hearing nothing at all and panicking first thing in the morning.
The short drive from the hospital to my apartment was a blur. One of the main reasons I hated working nights was how freaking tired I was every morning when I was heading home. They say tired driving is just as dangerous as drunk driving, and they are right, for sure.
“Hey, handsome.” I threw my keys into the dish next to the front door of the apartment I shared with my boyfriend and our two dogs. I tiredly shuffled my feet as I made my way into the living room while our overly hyper miniature Pinschers jumped around, crying for me to scoop them up.