I put a lot of thought into my other Christmas gifts for Killiana picture Malory took of us, a heavy-duty silver chain necklace with script metal work saying, "Mine," and a soft wool lap blanket for his feet when he kicked back and watched television. I knew I would use it, too, because he still liked keeping me nearly or completely naked when I cuddled up with him. It was hard to buy for Killian because he had everything, but I was very proud of my choices.

Killian bought me a brand-new silver Mustang convertible.

"But, Killian, you don't even drive a sports car," I said in stunned disbelief.

"I do now, baby."

My hands were shaking as I walked around the polished exterior. "Am I leaving it here at your house?"

"I hope not. I want you to drive it when you need it."

"Someone will steal it from my apartment." I was actually having trouble getting enough oxygen into my lungs and the words came out breathy.

He laughed, grabbed me about the waist, and swung me around in a big circle without my feet touching the ground. "Do you like it?" he asked after setting me down.

His smile was so lighthearted and he was so proud of himself. What else could I say? "I love it."

He assured me it had a tracking system and a kill switch if someone stole it.

My parents were out of town for the holiday, along with my sister, so I drove Killian to his mother's house for Christmas dinner. Beth cooked, but before dinner was ready, Killian and I took Michael to the park in the van. We walked around the small lake so he could see the ducks.

I'd asked Killian weeks before what Michael comprehended.

"He feels happy and sad, expresses joy and anger, but he has limited brain function."

"He loves you," I'd said.

I blinked away my thoughts about that conversation and took out the breadcrumbs I'd brought.

"Will you hold these for me, Michael?"

He smiled and moved slightly in his chair, making his wonderful happy sounds. I sat the bag on his lap and drew more than a dozen ducks our way. Things were perfect until Michael got upset when it was time to leave. I witnessed him throwing a small fit using angry sounds to mark his displeasure. I gained an entirely new perspective on the years Beth cared for Michael without help.

Killian crouched down and smoothed his palm over Michael's cheek. "We'll come back, buddy. Mom cooked a big dinner and we're hungry." Michael made angry sounds all the way home and it broke my heart.

We opened gifts after dinner. I had used all my bar jar savings to purchase Michael a life-size wall poster of Killian in uniform throwing a football. Killian hadn't known what I'd ordered and his face turned slightly red, but he helped me mount it in Michael's bedroom.

"I don't know why I didn't think of this before. It's perfect," Beth said as she admired the image of her son in his number twenty jersey.

Killian drove us home and used a slightly heavier foot on the gas pedal than I'd used on our trip to Glendale. The weather was cool, which made it one of the nicest places in the country to be on Christmas Day or evening. We drove with the top down and my cheeks were rosy and cold by the time we returned to Killian's house.

Killian had also given me a red bra and panty barely there set. I'd worn them to his mom's house with a secret smile. They didn't stay on long after we made it to bed, and I think I liked them more than the car.

***

Killian's last regular-season game was the week after New Year's, and they were playing Seattle. Things went from intense to a keg of dynamite waiting for someone to light a fuse. The Scorpions had only lost one game, Seattle two, if you counted the pre-season game they lost against the Scorps.

I was almost accustomed to Killian's game-day, closed-mouth habits, but this week was different. The Scorpions were going to the playoffs even if they lost, but Killian had a score to settle. Friday night, we ate at his house in bed;we never got far from it until Sunday morning. Killian was sexually insatiable. If he wasn't chafed after our sex marathon, it was never going to happen. I walked around his home on Sunday with a delicious soreness between my thighs and a satisfied smile on my face. I tried to ignore Killian's loud music blaring through the speakers.

Killian was his same silent, game-day self, but I gave him quick kisses whenever he drew close and received his burning gaze as my reward. He knew I was there and that's what mattered most.

Malory picked me up because Killian left the house even earlier than usual.

"You doing okay, sister?" she asked as soon as we took off for the stadium.

"Killian's beyond intense. How's Blitz?"

"The man needed a chill pill intravenous drip. He's psyched, and so am I. Our boys are going to the playoffs and with a little luck on their side the Super Bowl."

Amanda and Lyle joined us in the skybox. We all wore our purple jerseys waiting for kickoff. All of us suffered pre-game jitters, but managed to settle back in our seats when the first whistle blew.

After just two plays, the first fight broke out with Killian in the thick of things. My fingers tightened on the sides of my chair, and I fought running down to the field and punching a few Seattle players myself.

Malory squeezed my arm. "Relax, Rebecca. This always happens when we play these jerks. The boys will be a little worse for wear, but they'll survive."

I took a breath and tried to enjoy the game. The Scorpions came back onto the field after halftime, up by one touchdown. The score narrowed to a three-point spread in the fourth quarter and I could barely sit still. He's going to the playoffs. He's going to the playoffs. I kept repeating it in my head because it really didn't matter what happened in this game.

Scorpions had the ball on the thirty-yard line and Killian went back in the pocket to make a pass. No one was open and I watched, in what seemed like slow motion, as he avoided a sack, turned and ran with the ball. Killian's nemesis, Blanastovich, took Killian down with a hit that lifted Killian into the air. He came down on his head at an awkward angle with his neck bent. The ball fell from his hands, but I didn't see if anyone scooped it up. Killian lay crumpled where he fell and hadn't moved since he hit the ground. From the corner of my eye, I registered that the team owner and everyone else in the skybox stood up. I stayed frozen in my seat.

This wasn't like the pre-season game. We all knew something was seriously wrong.

"Come on." Malory pulled on my hand.

I looked up.

"We need to get you down to the ambulance bay."

"No." My eyes turned back to what was taking place on the field. Killian hadn't moved at all. He wasn't conscious. Medical staff ran onto the grass.

"Rebecca, he'll be okay. You need to get down there because he will be going to the hospital."

I couldn't move.

Lyle put his arm around my shoulder and took over communication, though I had no idea what he said.

Everything was still going in slow motion. They secured Killian to a backboard, stabilizing his head and neck. I turned to Malory.

"Get me down there," I whispered.

I barely registered anything as we ran to the medical area. The head trainer was at the back of the ambulance while they loaded Killian inside. I barely got a glimpse of him. The trainer, Pete, put his arm around me while I watched the medical crew start an IV and get a heart monitor attached. I couldn't see Killian's face from where I stood because the ambulance was too high.

"He was conscious for a few minutes. He could feel his feet and legs. He's got an injury to his shoulder, but I think his neck is okay. He definitely has a concussion, but they'll tell us more at the hospital."

The words barely registered, but I understood that Killian was awake for a short time.

"I'll get her to the hospital." Malory took my hand.

Amanda hugged me, and Lyle gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"We'll meet you there," Lyle said as Malory pulled me away.

I prayed.