Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I reached out and put a hand on her arm because none of us knew what to say.
“I want him to live,” she whispered. “And keep living, but he’s in such a dark place now that it’s back…” She got a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. “We thought it was going to be okay, that the surgery and aggressive chemo and radiation would get rid of it. But it’s back. And it spread, and this is essentially my last chance. If this doesn’t work…”
“There are new treatments coming out every day,” I said softly.
“Thank you for listening,” she said after a moment, sitting up a little straighter. “I apologize for rambling. And please don’t tell your husbands the things I said about Sawyer…he’s already a private guy, so he cringes when I talk about him.”
“Lips are sealed,” Nina said solemnly.
“Word of honor,” Hadley added.
“Lars doesn’t talk much anyway,” I said, chuckling.
“Would you guys like some tea? It helps my stomach and you guys can have some of that cake you brought over. Just, you know, fair warning, that I might fall asleep halfway through.” Annie’s eyes glittered with the first sign of life since we’d been here.
“Absolutely.” Hadley got up. “You sit in the kitchen and tell us where everything is so we can do the work and you can chat.”
“Thank you,” Annie whispered. “Thank you for coming. It’s been a long time since I felt like I belonged in his world.”
“You’re one of us,” Hadley said.
My eyes got a little misty as I watched her walk into the kitchen. Suddenly my problems with Hugh and everything else going on in my life had new perspective. And Annie had just given me a great idea.
Chapter Eighteen
Lars
* * *
Mavericks Group Text
* * *
Wes: Ross, where the fuck are you? The bus was supposed to leave five minutes ago.
Ross: Is Coach there? Did he get my text?
Wes: He’s standing outside the bus waiting for you, looking pretty pissed.
Ross: Tell him to read my text.
Wes: Do you need help with something?
Ross: No. I locked myself out of my room earlier and it took forever to get the front desk guy to get me a new room key.
Wes: But you’re back in your room now?
Ross: Leaving my room now. Anyone have socks I can borrow?
Wes: I have socks. Just get your ass down here.
* * *
“It smells like ass in here,” Boone grumbled as we all found seats on the bus that would take us from our hotel to the arena in Toronto.
No one seemed to care enough to respond. It did smell like ass, but the trip was short and I had much more important things on my mind.
The wait to find out if I had autism felt like forever. I had reporters and photographers on my ass every time I left the house these days. And I missed Sheridan.
“What the hell?” Sawyer demanded as we waited for the bus driver to start driving.
No one asked him what he was talking about. We’d all gotten used to him being a sullen, grumpy fuck. It worked for me, because my teammates used to say that about me, but I seemed like a ray of sunshine in comparison to our newest teammate.
“You need to tell your nosy wife to mind her own business, Kirby,” Sawyer said.
Wes, who had been talking to Beau, looked over at Sawyer. “What the hell are you talking about, dude?”
Sawyer’s eyes flashed with anger. I’d never seen him look so pissed off, and my muscles twitched in unconscious response. When someone was coming for one of my teammates, I wanted to protect them.
“What the fuck?” Sawyer’s voice had risen. “Your wife and two other wives went over to my house. Uninvited, obviously. How did they get my address? Did you know about this?”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Wes said dismissively. “Why would Hadley go over to your house?”
“My wife just texted me that she did. She and two other wives stayed at my house for more than an hour.”
“How dare they?” Drew said sarcastically. “I’m sure Nina was one of the other two. She’s prone to bullshit, like being welcoming and other nice things. Probably brought a cake over, too.”
Sawyer stood up then, and all eyes were on him. The tension on the bus seemed to be rising by the second.
“Where the fuck did they get my address?” he asked Wes.
Wes shrugged. “No idea. I don’t expect my wife to run stuff by me. She does what she wants.”
The ice in Sawyer’s tone made my skin prickle with awareness as he said, “She better not come anywhere near my house again. She’ll be sorry if she does.”
“Are you threatening my wife?” Wes demanded, standing up.
“Cut the shit,” Coach Gizzard said from the front of the bus. “We’ve got a game to prepare for.”