I-55

“She left,” muttered Jonathan as he approached the table. Though he wasn’t speaking loudly, everyone heard him.

“You sure she left?” asked Shaw, leaning forward in his seat a little bit to get a better look at his dejected captain.

“She might be in the bathroom? Girls do that,” said Crawford before taking a long sip from his beer.

Jonathan shook his head; he had asked the bartender downstairs where Roxie was after he couldn’t find her, and had been informed she left in quite the hurry. He entirely tuned out the rest of the conversation, staring down at the wooden table with his mind running a thousand thoughts a minute.

He had to talk to Roxie. He had to explain to her why he hadn’t told her who he was. He had to make things right—but how? He had let her slip right through his fingers, literally, because he was too shocked to chase after her. Jonathan knew it would come back to bite him in the ass, but he couldn’t change that, now. All he could think about was ways to talk to her.

He couldn’t just walk up to her apartment and knock—or could he? No, that would be crossing a line. Would she answer if he called her? Read his texts?

This was a conversation he wanted, desperately, to have face-to-face if at all possible.

---

Roxie had ignored all of Jonathan’s phone calls and deleted every one of his texts without reading them for the last four days. He had made no effort to contact her in the last two days, and she figured he was done trying. Good, that was what she wanted. Right? That’s what she tried to convince herself of, at least.

She was relieved to be working a lunch shift today that would have her home well before the Blackhawks finished up their game against the Predators. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she had actually googled the teams schedule out of curiosity and was rather surprised at their impeccable record so far this season. She had refrained from looking up anything about Jonathan, though. All she knew was he was the captain, and his number was 19—and that’s all she wanted to know at this point.

“Welcome to Game Center,” she greeted warmly upon hearing the bell ding when the door opened. She finished wiping off the bar where she was working today, and glanced up. Her heart began to pound harder when her eyes settled on the two men who had entered and taken a seat at the bar.

“Hey Rox!” chirped Patrick Kane, grinning widely.
“Hey,” said Patrick Sharp, rolling his eyes at Kane with a smile of his own. “How are you?”

“Oh, ya know. Just workin’ as usual,” she said, averting her eyes. “What can I get y’all?”

“Bud—“
“Water,” said Sharp quickly, sending the younger boy a hard look. “For both of us. Game tonight, no beer till later.”

Roxie pursed her lips for a moment, looking between them, before she turned and got them both a glass of water.

“Don’t worry, Rox. Tazer doesn’t know we’re here, he’s not going to come walking in. Relax,” laughed Kane, waving his hand in front of him for some sort of emphasis. “You just haven’t answered any of our texts lately, and we just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Oh. Yeah, sorry about that… I’ve been a little busy the past few days.”

Sharp shrugged it off, watching Roxie closely. She looked tired, like she hadn’t been getting enough sleep. There were hints of dark circles underneath her eyes, eyes that seemed to have lost some of their luster and sparkle. Her voice was less chipper than usual, and her shoulders were slouched like she was exhausted. Either she was as torn up as Jonathan was, or her husband had been harassing her again. If it was the latter of the two, he intended to put a stop to it somehow.

Surely there was something he could do.

“Have you heard from Luke anymore?”

Roxie froze for a mere second, her wide eyes searching for a way to busy herself around the bar. “No, it’s fine. So y'all got a game tonight? How d'ya think that will go?”

Kane’s eyes narrowed into slits and he leaned across the bar, the same as Sharp had.

“Rox,” said Sharp, his voice dangerously low as he spoke slowly. “I didn’t ask if it was alright. What’s he been calling you for?”

“And don’t try to lie or change the subject,” added Kane.

She bit her lip, giving the two a long look, and sighed quietly. “He wants me to come back to Texas so we can talk about the divorce. He’s been trying to convince me things have changed and we can salvage what’s left of our marriage…”

“And…?”

“And—can we not talk about this while I’m working?” she asked, pleading with her watery eyes.

One look was all it took for Sharp to crumble, a pang of guilt flushing through his body. She was right, this wasn’t the time or place for that kind of conversation and he felt like an ass for initiating it. He didn’t want her to cry—especially not somewhere so public, or where she was working.

Before Kane could protest, he agreed. “You’re right… sorry, when do you get off?”

“In about two hours.”

“Can we talk then? Kane and I don’t have a whole hell of a lot of time, but can we for a little while?”

Just as Sharp thought she was about to decline his offer, she nodded ever so slightly. She knew eventually he would find a way to have the conversation, so maybe the sooner the better. Right?

“Roxie, can I talk to you for a moment?” snipped Krystal, appearing suddenly and slipping behind the bar to drag Roxie a few steps away from the boys. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Kane and Sharp glanced at each other, both having heard the other waitress’ words, and looked towards the pair. Roxie’s back was to them, with her thumbs hooked in the corner of her back pockets, while the other girl stood with her arms folded across her chest.

“What’re ya talkin’ bout?” drawled Roxie, her eyebrows pinching together.

“That stint, over there, making up some sob story for Patrick Kane and Patrick Sharp for sympathy. Don’t you think they have better things to do or discuss than listen to your bullshit? You need to leave them alone, Roxie, like, seriously.”

Roxie’s mouth flew open in disbelief, but before she could form words the two hockey players were at her side. Kane quickly wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tightly into his side, while Sharp stood slightly in front of her and held up a hand to stop whatever words were about to spill from Krystal.

“I know we didn’t just hear you right,” he said, chuckling to himself. “It sounded a lot like you weren’t exactly being very nice to our friend, here.”

“I’m sure we’re just mistaken though,” said Kane. He flashed a sickeningly sweet smile that had Krystal fumbling even more over her words. "You seem like such a lovely girl."

“It’s just—I—well, you see—I’m sorry you had to hear that. She just—uh—wow, you guys are here… talking to me,”

“I’m sorry, she just… what? You’re not making much sense here, sweetheart,” said Sharp, all but spitting out the word. He was quickly getting irritated, and wasn’t afraid to show it.

“She just, she puts on this sweet little innocent country girl act! It’s such bullshit and we all know it, like, maybe she would have friends if she wasn’t always so fake or making up bullshit. Like, we know she’s not actually marrie—“

She was abruptly cut off by the sound of a ringing cell phone, and Roxie quickly pulled it from her back pocket, groaning the minute she saw the name flashing.

“Who is it?” murmured Kane, glancing down at her. "Jonathan?"

“Jonathan,” confirmed Roxie and she silenced the phone, stuffing it back into her pocket.

“Jonathan? As in… Toews? Jonathan Toews is calling you right now?” asked Krystal, her voice skipping a couple octaves. Roxie rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

“He’s been calling her, worried sick about her, actually,” said Kane with a smug little smirk. The three watched Krystals face quickly shift from snotty to disbelief, then recognition. Kane and Sharp weren’t just sticking up for some bartending waitress who they witnessed being picked on.

They were actually friends with her. In fact, they were here simply to see her. Krystal was spewing incoherent apologies the moment everything clicked in her mind, embarrassment painting her face a crimson red. Again, Sharp held up a hand to silence her.

“Stop.” Immediately, she slapped a hand over her lips and nodded. “You’re going to stop being such a snippy bitch to Roxie. You all are—because how do you think the owner of this place would take to receiving a phone call from the Blackhawks captain or alternate captain in regards to how his employees treat a new girl? Hmm? I think he’d be pretty pissed—especially when Kane and I go on live television and exploit all of you. Do you think you’ll be getting much business, then? Any good tips?”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Oh—we wouldn’t? But that’s the thing, princess. We would. And Jonathan would be furious, there’s no telling what he could do to you with the kind of influence he has in this city,” snapped Kane, his smile shifting quickly into a scowl.

The hand had slipped from her mouth and was clutching at a pendant around her neck, her face a perfect mask of terror. Roxie slipped a hand around Sharps forearm, tugging lightly on it until he removed his fearsome glare from the blonde in front of them.

“Guys, stop,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Stop. It’s fine, I’m fine. There’s no need for all of that, and you better leave Jonathan out of this.”

“No, it’s not fine, Rox,” argued Sharp.

“We’ll bring Tazer in if it takes that,” agreed Kane, looking down to meet her hazel eyes with his own bright blues. “We all said we’d protect you—we didn’t just mean from Luke.”

“I suggest you take over the rest of Roxie’s shift today because she’s coming with us. I don’t exactly feel comfortable leaving her here with you right now, and quite frankly, we have things that need to be discussed before our game,” concluded Sharp. His tone was harsh and demanding, but the arm he wrapped around Roxie’s shoulders was soft and comforting. “We’ll wait here for you, babe. Go grab your things.”

Kane squeezed her once before letting his arm drop, and Sharp kissed the side of her head quickly before sending her off to the back.

“That was ridiculous,” hissed Roxie the moment they were safely outside the building.
“Not at all,” said Kane, shaking his head defiantly.

“Why didn’t you tell us your co-workers were absolute bitches to you?” asked Sharp, entirely ignoring her previous statement.

“Because it wasn’t a big deal.”

“It is, Rox. You shouldn’t be treated like that, it’s bullshit.”

“She was wrong, by the way,” mumbled Kane, slipping his arm around her waist yet again. “About everything, but specifically that you don’t have friends… you do, a whole hockey team full of them. She’s just jealous.”

“You know, that’s part of why Jon wanted to keep his personal life separate from his professional life,” Sharp said slowly, hoping to ease into the conversation. When Roxie didn’t immediately respond, he continued. “Fans can get like your co-worker, only worse and all over the media. He was going to tell you, I swear, he just didn’t know how—and I think he was also worried about how you’d react, if you’d treat him the differently. The guy just wants to look out for you, honestly.”

“Sure has a funny way of showin’ it,” she muttered and shuffled closer to Kane on account of the biting wind.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “We never said he was smart or right. But can you blame him for wanting to keep you and hockey separate for as long as he could? Think about it. The guy is used to girls throwing themselves at him because of his status and money. He could have a different supermodel every night, if he wanted to, because of who he is. Then, he meets you… someone who is not only insanely beautiful with a great personality, but also couldn’t care less about hockey and has no idea who he is? He’s practically in love with you.”

“It’s just really difficult for him, Rox.”

“It doesn’t help that he’s shit with girls.”

“Girls? No, he’s shit with people in general,” said Sharp with a small smile. “It’s just hard for him because he knows he can’t be with you. He’s trying to keep his feelings at bay, while also look out for you and be whatever you need him to be.”

“So, I guess what we’re trying to say, is cut him some slack?” asked Kane, but Roxie wasn’t listening. Her thoughts had been frozen at ‘he’s practically in love with you’.

“He’s not in love with me,” she scoffed and shook her head in disbelief, her long curled hair blowing gently around her face.

“He might very well be,” said Sharpy in a very matter-of-fact voice. “This Jonathan. He’s not your typical guy. He either gives something his all and then some, or not at all. He’s fallen for you, Rox, and I’ve never seen him like this around any other girl before.”