Chapter 48
Rhys glanced at Alfie, sitting in the chair next to him. He had not said much since coming into the locker room after their loss the evening before. Did he blame Rhys as well? If he hadn’t thrown himself at second base, he wouldn’t have messed up his shoulder in the first place.
If he hadn’t insisted on going back out there, he could have iced the damn thing and been on the lineup card for today’s game. Instead of sitting in the waiting room of this imaging center.
“You didn’t have to come with me. I could get a ride by myself.” Then, he could stop pretending everything would be fine.
Nothing was going to be fine. Not if he couldn’t play.
“I know you do not like to sit and wait. Hospitals are always full of that.”
“I can sit still,” he groused.
Alfie looked over at him, and he thought that might have been a small smile on his face. “No,” he said as Rhys shifted in the chair. “You cannot.”
“Who knew being active was a bad thing.” Except for every foster parent and teacher Rhys ever had.
He could not believe he’d let so much slip to Mel the night before. He didn’t talk about his childhood. Not to anyone. Brady had already gotten more out of him than he was comfortable with. Now Mel knew.
They wouldn’t want anything to do with him. Even his mother hadn’t. Why should anyone else?
“I did not say it was bad,” Alfie said, his voice low. Rhys couldn’t bring himself to look at him again and see if that smile was still there or not. “It is just the way you are.”
Before Rhys could think of what to say, a nurse called his name. He went through the scan and then headed back out to the waiting room. Alfie still sat in the same position. He looked up from his phone when Rhys approached. “What did they say?”
“That the doctor will have to examine the scans. They’ll let us know when they see how severe the damage is. Until then, I’m to keep it immobile. Fuck. I fucking hate this. Why was I so stupid?”
“You are not stupid. Do not talk about yourself that way.”
Rhys shrugged and instantly regretted it. “Right. Not stupid. I’m going to see if there’s a rideshare available.” He didn’t want to have to wait, but since they didn’t have their own cars while on the road, there wasn’t much else to do.
Alfie looked like he might say something else, but Rhys turned away. It didn’t matter what Alfie thought. Rhys had been told enough times exactly what he was. He should have known better than to think he could amount to anything else.
Simon never thought those things.
That stole his breath. Why was he thinking so much about a man who had been dead for nearly a dozen years?
Because of this damn fucking town. He could not wait until he could be out of it again. Just leave the past where it should be.
Alfie touched his elbow but didn’t say anything. “Don’t worry,” Rhys said, “I’ll get you back to the clubhouse in time for practice.”
“I was not worried about that. I am worried about you.”
“It’s fine. Not the first time I’ve been injured.” Alfie opened his mouth, as if he would say something else, but Rhys found the car. “It’s two blocks away. Let’s go outside to wait for it.”
He wanted to get this day over with.
Alfie was mostly silent on the trip back to the clubhouse. Rhys figured that meant he had given up arguing with him. Or he figured out the truth.
He hoped Alfie never figured out just how worthless Rhys was.
When they entered the lounge, Maggie stood right outside the door of Turner’s office. She pointed one finger at Rhys then jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward the office. “Guess it’s time to pay the piper.”
“You did nothing wrong,” Alfie said, his voice gruff.. “You should have to pay nothing.”
“Should doesn’t always come into it.” Rhys started toward the trainer. The truth was, it was his fault. It was always his fault.
Turner had a hard look on his face, but he was aiming it beyond him. Rhys glanced over his shoulder—and that was a mistake—but he caught a glimpse of Alfie standing there before Turner closed his office door. There was something on Alfie’s face Rhys couldn’t quite place. Not just concern.
He didn’t let himself think too much on that. He had enough to worry about facing the consequences for his stupid play out there.
“We heard back from the imaging center.”
Rhys stared at Maggie where she leaned back against a rickety looking desk. How old was that thing? Rhys shook off that random thought and focused on their trainer. “Already?” he asked. “I only got the scans like thirty minutes ago.”
“The club put a rush on it. They really want to know what’s going on. You’re important to this team, Molson. Which means not abusing your body in ways which won’t help us.”
“How bad is it?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Was that one decision going to bench him for weeks, at least? He didn’t know how he would deal with that. If he couldn’t play…
“Not as bad as it could be,” Maggie said. “There’s no evidence of tears in the muscle or ligaments. It appears to be a case of impingement. And minor, at that. Rest and anti-inflammatories, and you should be back to normal.”
“Like that’s ever been an issue,” he said, without even thinking.
Maggie’s lips twitched. “Be that as it may, you’re down for at least a week. No catching. At all, Molson. Rest your damn shoulder. When we get home, I’ll have some resistance exercises which will help strengthen it back up.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.
It was better than having a ligament tear, or god forbid, something wrong with the muscles themselves. Why did it have to happen now of all times? When he was back here, when he was having trouble not thinking about everything that happened here. When he’d almost told Mel about his early life.
Because that was really a way to keep their interest in him.
Like it would last. He knew better.
“Molson, did you hear what I said?”
He forced a smile as he realized his mind had gone off down a dark trail. “Yeah, Maggie. I get to be lazy for the next week. Lucky me.”
“Resting is not lazy,” she scolded, though she softened it with a smile. “It’s a necessary part of recovery. Maybe the time off will help convince you of that.”
Rhys highly doubted it. Not after hearing the exact opposite nearly every day of his life. “Is there anything else?” He looked over at Turner and waited for the lecture to begin.
Even though Turner’s eyebrows were pinched together, he didn’t say anything. Rhys could only think that meant this lecture was going to be bad. Probably worse than any of the diatribes he’d heard over his time with the Lowrys, mostly because he didn’t want to disappoint Turner.
That had been an inevitability with the Lowrys, no matter how hard he tried to be good.
Turner shook his head. “Go on. Are you sticking around for the game?”
He couldn’t dress for the game, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t stay to support his team. No matter how hard it would be knowing he couldn’t go out there and help. “Where else would I be?”