32. Dutton
Dutton
I open the door to the locker room and force myself through it, even though I don’t want to be here right now.
Hell, I don’t really want to be anywhere right now.
I feel like a shit human being because I was a total dick to Bridgette when she stopped by to check on me.
I didn’t know what to say or do, so I just shut down.
That’s my default setting, but it’s not what she deserved.
Dammit.
She left my house today thinking that what we have is over, that I’m done with her. That’s not true at all, but my head is such a mess right now that I’m beginning to think she’s better off without me.
I have to put all that aside now, though, because we’ve got workouts.
Maybe this is the distraction I need right now.
I stow my gear in my locker and head over to the treadmills where Blue is warming up.
He gives me a chin tip and I return. Guys file in over the next few minutes, chattering like they always do, but I tune them out and focus on my body.
I’m just getting in the zone when I hear a crash. I look up to see the metal door slam against the wall. Mickey’s standing in the doorway looking pissed. No, he doesn’t just look pissed—he looks pissed at me.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he barks, practically lunging for me. Dean and Ollie jump up just to hold him back.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, slowing down my machine and hopping off. Mickey’s itching for a fight, and I’m pissed enough to give him one.
“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. You’re such a liar. My sister’s not good enough to meet your family, but she’s good enough to fuck?”
His words ignite something in me that’s dying to get out. “Don’t you fucking talk about her like that,” I say, grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt. “This has nothing to do with Bridgette.”
“Really?” he throws back. “Then why the hell was she crying?. Why does she think you’re trying to break up with her? Why are you changing your plans at the last minute? That’s fucked up. She was so excited to meet your parents and?—”
“It’s just not a good time,” I tell him. “I’m not breaking up with her, and I'm sure as hell not having this conversation with you.”
“At least we can agree on that,” he says. “Because I don’t want to talk to you. I want to break your fucking face.”
Before he can get a swing in, Deano clamps a hand on his arm. Mickey’s fuming, but the last thing we need is to start a bloodbath in here and have Coach catch us.
He shrugs out of Dean’s hold and gets right in my face. “Stay the fuck away from my sister. Are we clear?”
I should walk away, but I can’t. “No, we’re not clear. I’ve got shit going on right now, but it’s got nothing to do with Bridgette.”
“Then what is it?” he yells. “What’s such a big fucking deal that you broke Birdie’s heart?”
“I didn’t—it’s not Bridgette. She’s perfect—I…I’ve got shit going on right now and I need you to get out of my face before I lose my shit.”
But Mickey is relentless. The guy is a dog with a bone. He just can’t leave it alone. “You’ve got shit going on?” he says. “Join the fucking club. We all do. My sister’s dealt with her share, so what makes you so fucking special that you can throw a damn tantrum just because you have a bad day?”
Something in his words sets me off and I lose it, right there in the middle of the damn weight room, the one that’s lined with glass windows, the one Blue and I used on our first day here. “I’m not having a bad fucking day, you asshole. I’m not throwing a tantrum. My dad—” I choke on the last word.
The whole room goes silent.
“Your dad?” Blue asks. “Papa Wagner’s fine. He had a concussion, but you said he was doing better.”
“We thought he was. We were wrong. I went over there to do some stuff for my mom, and as soon as I turned into the neighborhood, I found him wandering into the street. He didn’t recognize me, had no clue where he was.
” I’m sure all the guys are looking at me, but I’m just looking at Blue.
“It’s dementia. Early-onset. He’s too fucking young for this to happen, but it’s happening anyway.
We just found out. I mean, there were signs, but I didn’t want to see them. ”
My best friend looks as broken as I feel. He wraps me in a bear hug, and though I’m not the touchy-feely type, I hug him right back.
I look around the room, and the guys’ faces are all solemn, even Mickey’s. Ollie claps me on the back. “We’re here for you, Wagner. Whatever you need, we’ve got you.”
What I need is to wake up from this nightmare, but that isn’t going to happen.
I also need to talk to Bridgette and apologize, if she’ll even talk to me.
I hop back onto the treadmill because I’ve got to get my workout in.
And even I know the world doesn’t stop spinning just because my little corner of it is falling apart.
For the second time today, Mickey walks up to my treadmill, but he’s not angry this time. “Jesus, Wagner,” he says, his voice full of defeat. “I’m sorry. I?—”
“She was crying?” I ask, feeling sick about the fight we had. “I’m such an asshole.”
Mickey nods. “She was pretty wrecked, but that’s because she loves you. You need to let her know what’s going on, you need to lean on her.”
I can’t do anything but nod, because for once, I agree with every word Mickey said.