32. PAUL
“Has anyone seen Greyson?” Coach Rivers yells into the locker room, letting the door swing shut behind him as we prepare for our game.
Everyone looks around, shaking their heads.
It’s unlike Greyson to be late for a game, or even a no-show, for that matter, and immediately something feels off.
“I’ll call him.” Glen picks up his phone and places it against his ear, but after a few seconds, he lowers it, glancing at the screen. “It went straight to voicemail.”
Coach runs a frustrated hand through his hair, shaking his head. “We have five minutes until we’re supposed to be out there.” Placing his hands on his hips, he stares down the entire room. Every teammate straightens their shoulders, holding their heads high. “I expect everyone to give it their all tonight—no sloppy passes. Stand your ground when you’re on defense. I want to see powerful blocks and well-executed shots.” Every player in the room intently listens when he says, “Now, let’s go kick some ass!”
Whooping and hollering resounds in the room as everyone closes their lockers and begins walking through the doors, heading into the arena.
Glen pats me on the back. “You coming?”
“Yeah.” I nod, momentarily distracted by the news of Greyson.
“You don’t think…” Glen’s brows raise as he scratches his head. He’s the only person I told about what we found on Greyson’s computer and how we erased it all. Every single last one. Figured he deserved an explanation after I lost my shit in front of the team.
“No. I’m sure it’s nothing,” I state, trying to convince myself more than him as fear mounts within me. “There’s no way he knows it was me. Ray hid all traces of everything.”
He lets out a breath. “I hope so. The last thing you want is for him to find out it was you. He already hates your guts as it is.”
“Thanks for the reminder, but he won’t. I’m sure of it.” I unzip my warm-up jacket and throw it in my locker. “I need to finish putting my stuff away, and then I’ll meet you out there.”
Glen stretches his arm over his opposite shoulder, pushing on his bicep. “I’ll be the one scoring all those threes tonight,” he declares confidently.
“Yeah. And Earth orbits around the moon,” I say, amused.
Glen pauses. “Wait, it does, right?”
“No, you idiot. The moon orbits around Earth.” I place a towel over my shoulder before applying gym chalk to the palms of my hands, rubbing them together to help enhance my grip.
“Jesus, you really are a nerd.” He snorts as he bends over laughing.
“Get the hell out of here.” I whip my towel at him, but he runs out of the room right before it strikes him. His hyena laughter echoes down the hall.
With Glen gone, I reach into my locker and grab my phone, finding a new text from Sarah waiting for me.
Sarah
No pressure, but if you win, I’ll let you do whatever you want tonight…
I smirk, knowing the trap she just set for herself.
Paul
Anything?
Sarah
Whatever you want, big guy.
Paul
Looking forward to a Star Wars marathon.
I laugh, wiping the chalk dust from my phone, and then shut it off. Turning toward the door, I leave the locker room and head down the hallway into the arena. The place is packed with overzealous fans tonight, more so than usual, as we get closer and closer to the finals, aka March Madness. A buzzing energy in the air takes over me as I step onto the court, catching a basketball from my teammate nearby, and begin to dribble casually, glancing around the gym as I search for my favorite pair of eyes.
Relief fills me as I lock eyes with Sarah.
My green-eyed goddess is front and center, sitting beside my mom, waving at me as her eyes catch mine. Her whole goddamn beautiful face lights up in a smile so big that it produces one on my own. But it’s the sight of that stunning baby bump beneath my jersey that makes my chest tighten.
Damn, she looks good in my jersey.
Sometimes, I have to pinch myself to be sure I’m not dreaming. To be sure that this girl in front of me, having my baby, is the girl I will spend the rest of my life with.
And knowing that we’re having a beautiful baby girl, who I’m hoping is blessed with her mamma’s eyes, spreads a tender warmth through my chest.
I jog over to them, dribbling in between my legs. A giant smile tugs at my lips at the sight of the two of them together, and I make a mental note to ask the team photographer to try to get a picture of them at some point tonight.
“Show-off,” Sarah murmurs as I approach, watching me gracefully handle the ball like I was born with it in my hands.
“He gets that from his father,” Mom tosses out, laughing.
“Hey.” I hold my hand up, examining my fingers, looking right at Sarah when I say, “I thought you said you loved what my hands can do?”
The blush that spreads over Sarah’s face is priceless.
“Paul!” She covers her face in embarrassment, and I enjoy seeing that pretty pink shade that covers her cheeks.
“What?” I feign innocence. “It’s not like my mom doesn’t know we’ve had sex. I mean, you are preg—”
“I’m begging you to please stop talking!” Her hands fly down to the tops of her thighs as she stomps her foot.
She’s so adorable when she’s embarrassed.
I chuckle. “Anything you say, baby girl.”
My mom laughs, watching the two of us. “I’m so glad to have another girl in the family.” She places her arm over Sarah’s shoulder. “Not to mention, another one will be joining us soon enough.” She bends toward Sarah’s slightly protruding stomach. “We girls have to stick together,” my mom whisper-yells as though the baby can hear her.
“Paul!” I look over my shoulder, finding Glen calling me to the team huddled together.
“That’s my cue to get my ass over there. I’ll see you guys after the game.” Leaning down, I kiss Sarah.
“Good luck,” she whispers.
“I don’t need luck.” I shake my head. “I only need you.”
Jogging over to the team, I find every set of eyes on me, ready for tonight’s speech.
Gripping Glen’s shoulder, I scan the faces of my teammates. These men look up to me, not because of the last name on my jersey, but because of what I’ve brought to the table with my skills and talent to every game we’ve had so far. “I’m not going to sugarcoat things for you. Detroit is tough, and they won’t back down tonight without a fight. They’re ruthless with an unstoppable winning streak, but that ends tonight! They’re on our home court! These are our fans! And we are going to show them tonight what Boston does best.” Everyone waits for me to say the magic words. “What is Boston going to do?” I roar.
“Win!” they all chant back.
“We’re going to show them whose house this is, boys!” Hollers erupt around me as I place my fist in the middle, waiting for everyone to join. “Let’s get out there and give them a night they’ll never forget! Linrey University on three. One… Two… Three!”
“Linrey University!” we all roar before separating, making our way to our prospective spots on the court or the bench.
As I walk toward the center of the court, Coach Rivers shouts, “No word from Greyson?”
I shake my head. Fuck, this isn’t good.
Coach nods and puts his phone to his ear, appearing distressed.
Pushing down the unease creeping up inside me, I stride to the half-court line and wait in the center circle. The opposing player has to look up at me as he draws near, and I already know this will be an easy tip-off. The ball will be ours in a matter of seconds.
The referee approaches, standing beside us with a whistle in his mouth. I crouch down slightly, ready to spring upwards when the ref blows the whistle, releasing the ball into the air so I’m the first one to reach it.
And that’s precisely what I do.
* * *
Fifteen minutes into the game, I glance over at Sarah’s empty seat. I don’t think much of it until a few more minutes go by, and she’s still not there. With the ball in my hands, I dribble toward my mom, passing it off to Glen, and then quickly face my mom and mouth, Where’s Sarah?
She mouths, bathroom, but something doesn’t feel right.
Glen scores, running a lay-up to the backboard, and then runs past me, brows furrowed as he asks, “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, eyes glued to Sarah’s empty seat. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
As one of my teammates blocks a shot and steals the ball, he passes it to me, probably expecting me to pass it to our point guard, but instead, I slowly pace up the court, dribbling the ball leisurely beside me. My eyes move to the scoreboard, viewing our leading score by twenty points. We’ve been on a back-and-forth nonstop sprint, and I shouldn’t slow down the pace of the game, not yet, anyway. But I can’t help my gut instinct that overrides every logical part of me as I approach the center line and call timeout, catching my team by surprise.
Tossing the ball to Glen, I jog backward.
“Where are you going?” he yells, his arms in the air.
“I’ll be right back. Stall for me!”
“How?”
I shrug. “You’ll think of something.”
Spinning around, I dart down the hallway toward the locker room. Every instinct tells me, no, demands me to head this way. And the second I barge through the locker room doors and come to a complete stop from the sight before me, I understand why.
My stomach plummets from pure, unfiltered terror. My heart pounds violently beneath my rib cage. And my fists clench painfully by my sides.
Sarah.
My Sarah is on her knees, shaking, with tears pouring down her cheeks and trembling hands bound before her. A piece of silver duct tape is placed over her mouth, preventing her from saying anything as her eyes plead for me…to what?
To leave?
Does she really think I would ever leave her?
Has she not been listening to me this whole time?
To the words, I promised her.
“I will never let you go.”
And right now, there is no exception to my promise.
The gun that Greyson holds against Sarah’s temple clicks as he pulls back the safety, his cold blue eyes narrowing in on me as he coolly utters five words that ignite a raging inferno inside me.
“We’ve been waiting for you.”