Chapter 12 #3
“What the hell?” Was he hurt? With my hands planted on my hips, I paced the sideline, attempting a closer look at the scene on the field. I could kill that fucker, Rolly. If I ended up on the field with him, maybe I’d have time to give him a hard hit.
Everyone took a knee.
Fucking hell. He got hurt. I fell to one knee, next to Coley.
“Looks like his ankle.” Coley pursed his lips and swung his gaze to mine. “If he can’t walk this off, you’re going in.”
I cut my gaze to his. “Shit.” My heart kicked against my ribcage. This wasn’t how I wanted it to play out. If they took him to the hospital, how the hell could I keep my head in the game to play my best?
As Malik sat up, the trainer tested his ankle, moving it in a circle while Malik grimaced.
The trainer helped Malik stand while he held his injured leg off the ground and hobbled to the sideline.
“Moore, you ready?” Coach Barlow stepped to me, his eyes narrowed. “Just get us to halftime.”
“Yes, Coach.” I passed Malik on my way out and stopped at him. “You okay?”
“I will be. Make me proud, Moore.” He held his fist out, and I bumped it.
Fuck, I didn’t want to leave him. “I’ll see you after the game. Do what they tell you.” With my throat tightening, I sped to the huddle, James eyeing me with his gloved hands resting on his hips. I had big shoes to fill.
The next play was a pass to Bailey, while I focused on tackling Rolly and keeping another lineman away from James. I spied Rolly, the dick who injured Malik, and rushed into his space, grabbed him around the waist and tossed him to the ground.
While sprawled on his back, Rolly stared at me.
“That was for Thompson,” I said. There, I’d gotten a piece of him at least. My gaze flicked to the clock as it ran out, and I raced off the field. I had to see Malik. I just had to.
I blew by everyone, running first through the tunnel, past the locker room and into the medical room. I had a few minutes before Coach Reid would have everyone gathered for our mid-game strategy session.
As Malik came into view, lying on a padded table, my heart lurched. “Hey, how bad is it?” I stopped at his side, seizing his hand.
The head trainer, Randy Nelson, glanced at our entwined hands. “What are you doing back here, Moore?”
“I…just wanted to see his condition. How bad is it?” I focused on his injured ankle, the cleat and sock removed from it. Swelling had set in. “Does it hurt?” My attention drew to Malik.
“Only when I move it a certain way or stand on it.” He scoffed. “You can do this, Grey, but watch out for that big NAU lineman, Hennessy. The guy’s a monster and figured out how to read James. He’ll be coming for you.”
“But that’s not the guy who took you out.” I squeezed his hand. He was certain to take a trip to the ER with how his ankle looked.
“No, but Hennessy is worse. Don’t let him get to you. Focus on your quick starts and shuffles, like we covered at camp. The guy’s big, but he’s not fast. You can outmaneuver him.” Malik winced.
“Okay, you'd better return to the locker room before Coach knows you’re in here.” Randy ticked a brow.
“I’ll see you after the game. If you’re still there, I’ll come to the ER.” I glanced at Randy.
“Oh, he’ll still be there. I’m sure the team doc will want an MRI.” He wrapped an ice pack in a compression bandage around Malik’s ankle.
“I’ll see you there.” I made a move to kiss his hand and stopped. Fuck, I can’t do that here.
He gave my hand a last squeeze. “I’ll watch the game from the hospital. Wouldn’t miss it.” He gave me a thin-lipped grin.
Fuck, this was awful. Leaning down, I whispered in his ear, “Any touchdown I get is for you.”
“I know.” His grin grew genuine. “Keep your eye on Hennessy.”
“I will.” He was so concerned about me. With warmth flowing through my body and patting his shoulder, I sauntered into the locker room, where the guys were gathering. They hadn’t missed me…yet.
Coach Reid’s gaze locked on mine. “Moore, with Thompson out, we’ll need you to keep our lead. How are you feeling?”
“Great, Coach. I won’t let you down.” I scanned the guys, all focused on me.
“I know you won’t, Moore.” Bailey clapped my shoulder. “You’re playing more like Thompson every day.”
It was the middle of the fourth quarter, and we’d kept our lead. Malik was right about Hennessy. The guy had been on my ass every play to the point James could barely give me the ball. I had to escape from him.
After the huddle, I lined up on the field with the guys. We needed only two yards to get another first down and twenty-four yards to score. We were within field goal range, but we still needed to close the gap. I peered at Hennessy, crouching across from me.
He sneered. “You’re going nowhere, Moore.”
“Yeah? We’ll see about that.” James planned on giving me the ball, and I needed a big play so Coach wouldn’t lose faith in me. What would Malik do? Hell, he’d fake a wide run and rush the middle. As a smirk swept my lips, I listened for James’s calls.
Our center snapped the ball, and James drew back, keeping his gaze downfield so he wouldn’t give me away.
I jumped toward the sideline, sprinting a few steps, stopped on a dime and ran toward the center, just like I’d practiced in camp with Malik.
With his enormous body barreling toward the sideline, Hennessy faltered and tumbled as he tried to shift gears.
A hole opened between all the guys wrestling with each other, and I twisted around, my gaze locking on James’s. Don’t lift your hands until the last minute. You don’t want anyone to see it.
James threw a short spiral my way, and it landed on my chest.
Damn, the guy could throw with precision. As I eyed the end zone, I ducked my head and darted across the field.
An NAU safety spied me and took off in my direction.
Fuck, I had to move. Pumping my free arm and my legs, my chest burning with quick breaths, I got closer and closer and closer.
The safety stretched for me, his fingers brushing my jersey.
The roar of the crowd filled my ears.
Holy fuck, would I make it? My first touchdown at ASU? As my feet passed the goal line, I ran a few more steps. I had to be certain there would be no reason for the refs to take this away.
When I stopped, players surrounded me, slapping my back, my chest and my ass.
“You fucking did it, Moore.” James grabbed my helmet, making me face him, a broad smile stretching his lips. “I knew I could count on you. As soon as I saw Hennessy fall, you were my guy.”
“Yeah? Thanks, man.” Warmth bloomed in my heart. If only Malik were here. But he’d be watching. I tore off my helmet, strutted toward a camera, kissed the ball and said, “For you, buddy.”
After winning the game and showering, I left the stadium and hurried to Tempe St. Luke’s hospital, where I’d learned they’d taken Malik. I parked in the lot and jogged toward the tall, square building, which lit the clear night sky. Hopefully, the injury wasn’t worse than it appeared.
I strolled under the metal portico covering the circular drive for the emergency room and to a triage desk. “Hi, I’m here to see Malik Thompson.”
A man in blue scrubs glanced upward from a computer screen. “And you are?”
“His, uh, brother.” Might as well lie. It wasn’t like they could prove it, and it would get me in faster.
I slipped my phone from the pocket of my athletic shorts and texted Malik.
Multiple messages popped up from Ella. Fuck that, she didn’t need to hear from me right now. Malik was the one who needed me.
“Brother?” The man in scrubs narrowed his eyes. “Okay.”
Grey
I’m here. I told them I’m your brother, so they’d let me back with no hassles.
The three dots blinked at me, and my phone chimed.
Malik
Great. I had an MRI, and I’m waiting for the results.
I breathed in deeply. What if he needed surgery? That would take him out for at least half of the season.
A large, automated door swung open, and the guy from the desk said, “This way.”
I followed him past beds, most with curtains drawn, and to a small room with a sliding glass door. All around me, personnel in scrubs meandered and pushed medical equipment on carts. The place was busy tonight. But then, it was a Saturday night.
“He’s in here.” He slid the door open and then left.
I stepped inside, my pulse rushing through my veins. “Malik?” My gaze raked over him, the blue hospital gown with a nondescript pattern, the thin blanket covering most of him and then his ankle, bandaged with an ice pack. “Hey.”
I stopped at his bedside and grabbed his hand. Fuck, he looked worn out. “Where’s Randy?” Surely the trainer would be around here somewhere. But for now, he wasn’t. Bending over, I kissed the back of his hand.
A slow grin worked over Malik’s lips. “He went to get some food.” His grin grew wider as his grip tightened on my hand. “That touchdown was amazing, Grey. You totally faked out Hennessy.”
“I did. You want to know how? I thought, what would Malik do?” I freed a soft chuckle. He had to know how much playing with him had improved my game.
“Yeah? I thought those moves looked familiar.” He beamed at me. Lowering his voice, he said, “I saw what you did after the play. Thanks.” His cheeks reddened.
“I wanted to make you proud.” Could I get away with a quick kiss? Why the hell not? They’d drawn the surrounding curtain. Bending over, I placed a soft kiss on his lips.
“You always make me proud, Grey.” He sighed and slumped against the thin mattress. “I’ve gotta tell you something. I’m worried about the results of the MRI.”
“Yeah? Why?” I glanced at his ankle. The ice had reduced the swelling. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
“No, but…” He inhaled deeply. “Shimá warned me something bad would happen. She had a dream.”
“She did?” I wrinkled my forehead. Why hadn’t he mentioned this before? She was never wrong. “Were you worried going into the game?”
“No, she didn’t think it related to a physical injury. She thought it would be emotional.” He huffed a sigh. “But who knows? She can’t be right one-hundred percent of the time.”
I worried my lower lip. If this injury prevented him from playing most of the season and affected his draft position, he might get emotional. “Malik, whatever the docs say, I’ll help you get back on the field as soon as possible.” I cared for him too much to want to take his position.
“Thanks, Grey.” He gave me a sad grin.
Randy strolled into the room, holding a drink in a plastic cup. “Oh, hey, Moore.”
Startled, I dropped Malik’s hand. Did it look weird? He hadn’t seemed to notice it. “Hey.”
“No word from the doctor yet.” Malik glanced at me. “Grey can take me home. We, uh, we’re roommates.”
“Oh, cool. Saves me a trip.” He turned and pushed the curtain aside. “I think the doc is on his way.”
A knot formed in my gut. If his auntie was correct, this could be terrible. But I’d get him through it.
A man with grey hair and black glasses slid the door open and stepped inside the room. “I have the results from the MRI.”
“Okay.” Malik clenched his hands into fists.
“Relax, it’s good news. Nothing is torn, so we’re looking at a sprain and not a major one at that. We’ll put you in a boot for a week and then a brace plus physical therapy for a few more weeks, and you should be back on the field.” He patted Malik’s bed and glanced at Randy. “Questions?”
Malik relaxed his body and chuckled. “Thank God.”
“It’s a lateral sprain, and I’ve seen plenty of those. I know exactly what he needs.” Randy sipped his drink through a straw.
“When can I take him home?” The knot in my gut unwound. My sole desire was to take care of him. At home, I could shower him with the affection I couldn’t here.
“We’ll get him a boot, and I’ll send the discharge papers along. I’ve already spoken with the team doc, so we’re squared away there.” He turned to leave and then stopped, facing Malik. “Don’t worry, you should only miss three games and then you’ll be good as new.”
“Thanks, Doc.” A smile swept his face.
“You’re welcome.” The doctor left.
“If you’re taking him home, I’m going to bounce.” Randy’s gaze darted from me to Malik.
“Sure, man. I’ll see you at the gym. Thanks for everything.” Malik waved at him.
“See you.” With a short wave, Randy strolled through the sliding glass doors.
Finally, I was alone with him. “Malik, I hope you know I intend to spend the next week waiting on you hand and foot.” I squeezed his forearm.
“Oh, the rich boy with the maids and butlers and cooks knows how to do that?” He smirked at me.
“After watching them all those years, you could say I learned from the best.” I leaned over and kissed his forehead.