CHAPTER TWO
Zane
Slamming my eyes shut, I bury my fists into the sockets and let out a silent scream. That fucker must have messed me up worse than I thought, because I am seeing things. No, not just seeing things—I’m goddamn delusional.
With a quiet groan, I remove my hands and open my eyes one at a time, slowly taking in the sterile room, and… “Fuck me.” She’s standing in front of me. Blair fucking Stevens is here. And she’s shooting me well-deserved daggers.
I try to sit up but the cut on my side pulls, and I bite back a wince. Though it’s significantly easier to focus on that than the hollow pit forming in my stomach. “Fuck me,” I repeat, unable to form any other words as my chest burns.
“Nope.” Blair pops the p, her hand on her hip, as she stares me down. “You missed your chance years ago.”
I almost question what she means until her eyes widen and she covers her perfect little pout with her hand.
Oh, right…the fucking me part. “Forget I said that.” She shakes her head almost violently, causing her hair to loosen and a thick curl to fall to her cheek.
“I’m glad to see you’re okay.” She tucks the stray strand behind her ear and I follow the movement.
“I’ll just check your vitals and be on my way. ”
She fusses with the monitors behind me before shoving the claw on my finger and securing the blood pressure torture trap around my bicep. I can handle a lot of pain, but fuck, those things cause me grief.
Grief. Jesus. Not the best word to think about right now.
I flinch as the machine tightens around my muscle, and when Blair notices, she frowns. “What’s going on there?”
“You know…” I trail off as I shrug. “I hate hospitals.” The word alone brings up memories I buried deep, and being here now is excruciating. Not to mention, it’s as if they want you to suffer, with the stark white walls and bleak interior. It’s what nightmares are made of. Particularly mine.
“So, nothing has changed,” Blair muses and the smallest smile tugs at her lips, until I selfishly wipe it clean off her face.
“Everything has changed.” She knows that as well as I do.
Blair nods, as if in response to my inner thoughts, and a melancholy expression darkens her beautiful features.
“Okay. Well, if you don’t need anything…” She trails off, glancing behind her. “I’m going to continue my rounds.”
“Thanks. I’m good.”
Walking backward, she collides with the edge of the open door, snapping herself out of the daze she’s been under.
Then she’s gone.
As though I imagined the whole damn thing.
And fuck, maybe I did. I am in the hospital after all. And Blair’s not a nurse. She wanted to be a writer. It’s all she ever talked about. She was going to travel the world, setting her books in whatever exotic location she found herself in.
That can’t be her.
Maybe I’m still sleeping. Or God, am I in a coma?
Confused as ever, I stare at the door long after Blair—or not Blair—has gone, a million unwanted thoughts running through my head. Blair fucking Stevens.
I knew coming back here was going to be hard, but it’s so much worse than I ever could have imagined. There’s a reason I haven’t been home for years.
I want out.
I’m more convinced than ever that I conjured Blair, when for the next few hours, I have a different nurse taking care of me.
And this one has a strange, knowing smile on her face. As though the machines are telling her I’m crazy. That I’m seeing images of the girl I left behind. The girl I never got over.
Countless memories assault my mind, and I’m almost at my breaking point when the doctor stops by. I expect him to notice my impending madness, so when he clears me for discharge, it catches me off guard. And I almost beg him to let me stay.
For as desperate as I am to escape this hell, how the fuck is it fair that I’m fit enough to go home when Reed’s still unconscious a few doors down? How the fuck do I face a waiting room full of my teammates when most of them hate me?
The questions run rampant while a familiar darkness threatens to seep out of the deep recess in my mind. But before I allow it to completely break me, the door to my room creaks, and I glance up to find San Francisco Storm’s media liaison, Keeley, hovering in the entry, her expression sympathetic.
Just what I need.
“Can I come in?” She smiles awkwardly, her long auburn hair pulled into an uncharacteristically messy bun as though she hasn’t slept since before the game on Sunday. “The nurse mentioned they’re releasing you soon. She thought you might want some company.”
“And you’re the unlucky one they sent?” I bark out a lackluster laugh and as expected, Keeley frowns.
“Don’t be a dick, Zane. I’m the one always asking them about you. The nurses have been keeping me up to date.”
My brows furrow as I process what she’s saying. “I thought they could only provide updates to family.”
“I’m your girlfriend, Zane.” Keeley walks closer, one of her manicured brows lifted in challenge. “Or have you forgotten? God, you must have hit your head really hard.” She places her palm on my forehead and I shake her off.
“Ha. Ha. Very funny. I’d definitely remember that.” Keeley is damn fine, and if she’d been into football players, I have no doubt we would have fucked already. But we definitely wouldn’t be dating. “I’m surprised they believed you.”
“They didn’t. But I guess one of the nurses felt sorry for me. She’s been nice enough to provide as much information as she can.”
“Why?” I frown, glancing away as Keeley’s look of concern makes me uncomfortable.
“God, I don’t know.” She throws her hands in the air, bringing my gaze back to hers. “The kindness of her heart.”
“No. I mean, why do you care?” A hint of vulnerability comes out in my tone, and I clear my throat to cover it up, ensuring it doesn’t happen again.
“We all care, Zane. Everyone in that waiting room.” Keeley points out the door, presumably toward where my teammates are waiting. “They’re here for you as much as they’re here for Reed.”
At that I scoff. “I highly doubt that. They all hate—”
“Cut the woe is me bullshit. If anyone out there hates you, it’s because you made them feel that way.”
“I didn’t know—”
“Believe it or not, this has nothing to do with you fucking my brother’s ex. It’s your attitude. Lose it and you’ll find yourself with more friends than you could ever imagine.”
Jesus. She’s a feisty one. But hang on… “Easton’s your brother? When did that happen?”
“When he was born. Catch up. He’s out there too. You might even have a friend in him.”
“What if I don’t want any friends?” Fuck. I grimace, cursing under my breath. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. The last thing I want is for her to pity me, exactly like she’s doing right now. “Please put those sad eyes away. I’m fine. I don’t need friends. But—”
“I think—”
“But,” I repeat, louder this time, “I wouldn’t mind having teammates I get along with. Though, I’d say I blew my shot with your brother.”
When it comes to life’s fuckups, I’ve got too many to count on one hand, but I refuse to feel guilty about sleeping with Easton’s ex, despite the fact she wasn’t his ex at the time. I didn’t know who she was. I’m not responsible for that lapse in judgment.
And I will die on that hill. Though, I can admit that I was a dick about it.
Keeley’s lips pull into a wide grin as she pats the side of my bed. “I knew there was a good guy hiding underneath that rough exterior. And you’d be surprised about East. What you did for Hayley and Reed…”
She trails off, and the sincerity in her eyes has my throat clogging, and as much as I’d love to change the subject, I can’t.
“I did what anyone would do,” I say instead, refusing to be painted as a hero in this. “A man is on life support because of what I did. It’s nothing to be praised for.”
“You can’t blame yourself for that, Zane. If you hadn’t come back to help them, I can’t even imagine—” Keeley chokes back emotion, and I release a long, drawn-out sigh.
“Okay.” I raise a hand between us to stop her from talking. “Thank you. For caring.”
She stares at me for a beat before huffing out a laugh. “That’s a start. I’ll take it. Baby steps. But we’re all here for you. Whether you want it or not.”
Keeley hangs around until I get discharged, and then offers to walk me to the hotel our team owner booked, so everyone could stay close by. And by everyone, I mean all my teammates that opted to stay until they knew Reed was okay. Something we still don’t know.
Refusing her offer, politely, I consider taking the next flight out of here, but think better of it. Because like my teammates, I can’t leave without checking in on Reed, and on top of that, there’s still the tiny issue of me being investigated by the police.
While they’re not presently charging me with anything, I was advised not to leave Florida until they had Reed’s and Hayley’s statements.
And despite the fucked-up shit I often say and do, I’m not stupid.
After finding Reed and Hayley asleep, I tell Keeley I’ll be back in the morning and grab my bag—reminding myself to check that I have everything since someone else must have packed up my original hotel room.
Avoiding my teammates, I slip out, needing a clear head and a proper night’s sleep before I throw myself into that situation.
I need to be free.
Only the second I make it outside and into the warm night air, my legs lock in place, my body heavy as the weight of the past twenty-four hours crushes my soul.
No, it’s been longer than twenty-four hours. The tension hasn’t left me since our flight first touched down on the Jacksonville runway.
It’s been years since I was last here, and that’s not by accident.
I left home a few weeks after my nineteenth birthday, and I never looked back. If I could have avoided it forever, I would have.
But here I am, and God, it’s worse than I ever could have imagined. As if I needed more of a reason to hate the place where I grew up.
I swear it’s cursed.
For me, anyway.
An image of her lifeless body scars my already fucked-up mind, and I slam my eyes shut—as if that will help—swallowing back the bile rising in my throat.
I want to escape, but with my lids closed, my thoughts drift into unwanted territory, and the events of last night torment me again, making me relive every heart-pounding moment.
Hayley’s terrified call for help.
The adrenaline coursing through my veins.
A flailing body slamming into mine.
The anger.
The heartache.
Hayley crying in my arms.
But the one moment that hurts the most, the one I’ll never get over, is the split-second decision that could cost a man his life. The moment I pushed Hayley aside, racing forward, tackling…
I jolt as something pulls me out of my thoughts, and it’s not until the world around me comes back into focus that I hear it again.
“Zane?”
Huh? I glance up and immediately regret it.
“Fuck, it is you.” My high school best friend steps into the bright hospital lights, his eyes wide as he takes me in.
“Blair said you were here, but honestly, she’s my sister, and I only believe half the shit that comes out of her mouth.
” He laughs to himself and I force a soft smile.
At least I’m not delusional. Blair was here.
And she decided she didn’t want to see me again.
Not that I blame her. I probably would have run, given the chance.
“What the hell happened?” Cade reaches out to do God knows what but thinks better about it, letting his hand fall to his side. “You look pale.”
“Thanks.” I huff out a laugh. He’s always been one to tell it like it is. “I got in a knife fight.”
“And you lost?”
I wish. “Unfortunately, there were no winners in this fight.”
“But you’re alive.” Cade smiles wide, ever the optimist. “You cheated death. Again. You better be careful, Fitzpatrick. I hear that the third time’s a charm.”
His smile fades while I shake my head.
I hate to say it but, “I’ve heard that too.” Only I’m not sure I could handle a third. My body might survive it, but I’d lose my mind in the process.
We fall quiet for a beat until Cade slaps me on the back and turns to face the parking lot. “Are you ready to blow this joint?”
“What?”
“I’m busting you out. Hand me your bag. We’re going home.”
I stare down at the bag in my hand, before laughing under my breath. “I’m not going home, Cade. I can’t.”
“Why? Because you fucked up years ago, running away instead of facing your problems, leaving behind everyone that ever cared about you?”
“Yep,” I say honestly, his words barely causing a sting. “That about sums it up.”
“Fucker.” He smirks like I’m joking. “Get in the truck. If you’re lucky, I’ll show you where my sister lives.”
My eyes widen at the mention of Blair. “Why would—”
“Woah.” Cade throws a hand up between us. “I’m going to stop you before you lie to my face. I’ve forgiven you for running away. I’ve forgiven you for not even bothering to pick up a phone to check in. But I will not forgive lying anymore. God knows you did it enough when we were kids.”
Damn. Okay. I nod and opt for silence over lying again. But he doesn’t let me off the hook.
“Anyway, Blair told me she went home sick after you woke up. I think the two of you should talk. You’re both mourning the same loss; maybe you can heal each other.”
“It’s been years.”
“Exactly. And it’s safe to say that since you haven’t been back, you’re still not over it. Neither is Blair.”
“I’m not going home.” And I’m not talking to you about your sister.
“Yeah. You are. Get in my fucking truck before I make you.”
I stare at him unmoving, taking in his slim build compared to my muscular form, a body that’s been forged by hours in the gym, working myself to perfection. He can’t make me.
Not anymore.
He may have been stronger when we were teens, but he gave up on football when he started college. He’s no match for me now.
“I’m not going home,” I repeat, louder this time, standing my ground. “This isn’t even home anymore.”
Cade’s eyes widen before his expression turns cold.
“It’s not home anymore? So what? Is San Francisco home?
Because from what I’ve been seeing in the media and on that TV show, that isn’t home for you either.
Seems to me like you’re pushing your teammates away like you did with us. Which I guess means you’re homeless.”
Fuck. I don’t think I’ve ever looked at it that way, but he’s right. I don’t have roots, just footprints. I exist wherever I happen to be. But I kind of like it that way. Never making a home means I never have anything to wreck. Anything to lose.
Cade stares at me in challenge, his gaze boring into mine until he seemingly finds what he’s looking for. “Get in the damn truck, Zane.” He shakes his head as he turns to walk away. “I’m not leaving here without you.” Conversation over.
Fuck my life.