Chapter Nineteen
RAFAEL
The women pile out of the locker room. All of them except the three troublemakers, who are looking between one another with frantic eyes.
Elise is nowhere to be seen, and that rock in my gut is now a boulder of despair.
“Where is she?” I bark out, not caring which one answers so long as I get some damn answers.
Chelsea closes her eyes briefly before meeting mine, her fingers toying with the edge of her black-and-fuchsia shorts.
She swallows hard, and when she opens her mouth to speak, I swear there’s a high-speed train rushing past my ears because her words barely register past the blaring sound of panic coursing through me.
“I’m gonna need you to repeat that for me,” I grit out, and she gives me those big doe eyes that would probably work on someone with a bigger heart than mine, but after years of stomping on my own, there isn’t much left to salvage.
“We don’t know,” she says again, her voice small, and her words choppy.
“You don’t know?” I ask, enunciating each word.
“No.” She shakes her head. “We lost her,” she says, the words a quiet, watery whimper, her lips trembling before she slumps onto the bench behind her, tears soaking her sun-kissed cheeks.
I run a ragged hand over my face, disbelief and frustration humming inside me.
“Fuck!” I shout, unable to hold it in any longer.
The three women startle, their eyes widening, shoulders shaking, and I instantly regret my tone.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, tensing my jaw as I aim for a more even tone.
“Do you have any idea where the bloody hell she could be?”
Letty and Chelsea shake their heads, but Adhira whispers, “I think I might.”
I tug on the roots of my hair, the strands long from days of anxiety that I haven’t been able to pinpoint, my appearance falling to the wayside as I’ve grappled senselessly for control.
I stare at the ceiling with barely controlled rage simmering in my blood.
My eyes meet theirs before barking out instructions for them to follow if they know what’s good for them.
“Go tell the assistant coaches that there’s been an emergency.
They’re taking over, and Elise won’t be back tonight.
If they ask for more information, say she was sick and I’ve got it taken care of. ”
They nod, rushing out to do as I ask. Adhira comes to stand in front of me, holding her ground. “Before you go after her like a madman, there are a few things you need to know first,” she says, and I can already feel the pounding headache forming behind my temples.
“I don’t have all day, Adhira,” I grit out.
“Elise has bipolar 1 disorder,” she says, and suddenly so many pieces of the puzzle that make up Elise Auclair come snapping into place.
“Those were the meds she was taking when you saw her. She’s still too embarrassed about her diagnosis to tell anyone about it other than the three of us, so I guess she quit taking her meds in order to test clean, but instead of restarting them, she started edging into mania.
We don't have all day to talk about this, and frankly, it really is none of your business, but you need to know what you’re walking into so you don’t run the risk of her panicking and fleeing. ”
She gives me a rundown on what not to do when I see her, how to approach her, and where she’s banking on me finding her.
Apparently, there was a casino a few minutes away, and according to Adhira, people with bipolar 1 who are experiencing mania have a tendency to make impulsive decisions like gambling and seeking out sex.
The thought of finding Elise with another person pleasuring her has the edges of my periphery going black for reasons I can’t even begin to fathom.
When Adhira’s told me everything she can think of, I take off out of the building and down the road to the casino.
It’s hard to miss, especially with how gloomy the weather is. The building shines like a beacon, and when I rush inside past security, a cloud of cigarette smoke falls over me, burning the inside of my nostrils.
I cough loudly, ambling through the large space, cursing Elise for getting us into this situation. If she’s not here, I have no idea what I’m going to do.
Panic surges through me, my heart lurching inside my chest, my pulse speeding up as I pass by yet another set of slot machines without Elise seated behind them.
My fists clench at my side as I make it to the last row.
I release a loud breath, and my shoulders sag when my eyes land on her. She looks completely out of place in her gym shorts and sports bra, but no one seems to care. There’s a crowd gathered behind her, cheering as she excitedly stares up at the glowing board in front of her.
My eyes widen when I see the screen for myself, bright with the number seven thousand fifty-three. She’s somehow won over seven thousand pounds.
Before she can click the button to keep going, likely to lose everything she’s won the longer she sits here, I push past her onlookers and drop to her side, placing a hand on the top of her thigh.
Her eyes are wide, pupils blown as they meet mine, and I give her a small smile, pushing past every emotion I’m feeling because I know my internal response to this situation would have her bolting out of here. Thank fuck for Adhira.
My gaze flicks to the screen for a moment. “Wow, you’ve won a lot of money, huh, princess?” I ask, keeping my voice light.
Her brows pinch, sending another wave of anxiety straight to my gut, but her expression smooths, and she gives me a bright smile.
“I did! I’ve got to keep going,” she says, turning back to hit the button in front of her.
I snatch her wrist, and she opens her mouth to protest, her eyes crinkling at the sides, and her lips pull tight.
I improvise, bringing her hand to my mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.
This is so fucking inappropriate.
Yeah, well, so is threatening to drug test your coach’s daughter based on a poor assumption and a massive chip on your shoulder.
I’ll be dealing with those consequences a lot longer than I will this one, so I stand, hoping I’ve distracted her enough to pull her away from the machine.
Her eyes dilate, and she sucks her plump bottom lip into her mouth.
“Come on, sweetheart, I’m gonna take you somewhere fun,” I whisper into her ear, dragging her alongside me and out of the casino to where taxis line the front of the building.
Those big blue eyes of hers are darting around as she lets me guide her outside. It’s almost like she can’t focus on any one thing, as if there’s nothing tethering her to reality right now, and it breaks something deep inside me to see her like this.
Goosebumps scatter across her arms at the chill in the air as wind whips past us. I usher her into the back of the taxicab, waiting until she’s slid all the way in before I tell the taxi where to take us.
I hope she’s not too upset about all the money she just left there.
I continue pacing the hall outside of Elise's room. The sound of my trainers squeaking bounces off the linoleum floors and white walls, a harsh, cold reminder of the last time I was in a hospital.
The sound grates on my nerves, but I'm unable to stand still, walking from one end to the next and back.
Over and over again, my heart battering against my ribcage as I wait for Coach to come out and give me an update.
Kick me out. Kick me off the team . Anything would be better than the incessant worry clawing at my throat.
Anxiety thrums in my gut, churning with newly found remorse.
“Rafa,” Coach’s smooth, deep voice cuts through the rhythmic beating of the monitors in the rooms along this hallway.
My head snaps to him, blood rushing behind my eardrums. “Is she okay?” I ask, my tone thick like my tongue feels.
He nods, not speaking as he closes the door to her room with a gentle snick. “Come on, follow me to the cafeteria. I need a cuppa.”
I walk aimlessly behind him, nerves coursing through my blood. My heart and mind feel heavy, like a thick layer of fog has settled over me. Memories of that day. Of my mistakes. They flood me, one after the other, rushing through me, gripping me by the throat and refusing to let go.
Coach claps a hand on my shoulder, levelling me with an earnest expression.
“This is not your fault. I can only imagine what's going through your head right now, all things considered with what happened to your brother.
But I'll tell you now what I told you after you'd confided in me about Carlos because it is still true, Rafa. Elise is an adult. She made her own decisions. Nothing that you did or said could have driven her to make those choices.”
I try to cut him off. “But if I hadn't confronted her like?—”
“Stop,” he says, his tone terse and no-nonsense. “She should have told you what the medication was for. She could have handled that situation a hundred different ways, but she chose to stop taking her medications, not you. That is not your fault and not your responsibility.”
I want to hear him. I want to believe him, but just like with Carlos, it all feels like it's just that.
My fault.
“I just—” I clear my throat. “I feel like I'm always bringing horrible shit to everyone's doorstep. Like I'm some harbinger for bad situations.”
“And has Carlos ever told you as much?” he asks, pressing the button for the basement as we step into the elevator.
“Never.”
“Well, here's a thought. Maybe you should start listening to him. I know it’s hard to do with that thick skull of yours, but you should give it a go, ” he teases.
The doors open, and my shoulders feel a little less tense, but then we get to the cafeteria, and all the anxiety is back with a vengeance.
“Who the bloody fuck thought it was a good idea to put the cafeteria next to the morgue ?”