Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
Elizabeth
It’s been a week since our encounter with my father. The first few days were incredibly rough. I felt depression creeping in, and the only reason it didn’t take over my life was because I didn’t want to disappoint Logan.
He came home four days ago, ready to lay it into me.
I’m laughing now, but I was really scared when he told me that things would not work out the way they were.
Then he explained about the food, and when I showed him the freezer, which was almost empty, his face was priceless.
He really thought that I was starving myself, and that I was getting myself sick because of it.
Once we got that squared away, he got on me about not being out by the pool.
He called me a plastic house plant, for God’s sake.
I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry, but, either way, he was really invested in what he considered an argument, and I didn’t want to ruin it for him.
So, in the end, I promised him That I would spend at least forty-five minutes every day outside by the pool.
We went out shopping so that I could get sunblock and the bathing suit.
Now, he just ran to the store to buy more water and anything else he thought would be necessary to keep me hydrated, because he’s worried about that. He is really sweet in the way he wants to take care of me, and I appreciate everything he does for me.
The one thing I am really struggling with though, and which has nothing to do with him, is that I don’t have any inspiration to paint. I could stare for hours at the canvas, but I can’t make anything come to life. Logan suggested I should relax for a while and not force it, and I think he’s right.
I jump in surprise when I hear my cell phone ringing from where I have it under a towel. The heat really kills the battery, so I had to become creative. Expecting to see that it’s Logan calling, I am surprised that it’s actually my best friend.
“Mona,” I exclaim. “I’m so happy to hear from you.”
She huffed at hearing that. “Well, I would’ve never guessed, since you never call me.”
I press a hand to my chest in fake surprise. “That’s so not true. We talk all the time.”
“Yeah, we do,” she agrees. “That’s because I’m the one who does all the calling,” she points out.
I snicker, but I know she’s right. I’ve always done a bad job of keeping in touch with her, leaving her to do all the work to keep us connected.
“I really appreciate you. I hope you know that,” I say with all the sincerity I am capable of.
“Yeah, yeah,” she blows me off. “Tell me what’s new.”
“Well, I’m sitting by the pool as we speak,” I tell her. “I can’t believe that it took me this long to get out here. My tan is perfection already.”
“Sounds like you have it really rough out there,” she mocks me. “I wish I had your life.”
The smile dies on my lips. I know that she didn’t mean anything by it, but I’ve always been very self-conscious about my father‘s wealth, especially in her presence. I would hate to know that she thinks I ever flaunted it.
There’s something else in her tone of voice, though. She tries to sound happy and upbeat, but I can tell that it’s all fake.
“How are things with you?” I ask. “How’s the new dating site?”
“Meh, it could be better. Very slim pickings. All men are creeps.”
“Not all of them, though,” I argue.
“You say that only because you’re in the beginning stages of your relationship, honey. Things do change after a while.”
Since I am well aware of her messed up relationship with Alex, I understand where she’s coming from, and I don’t take her words to heart.
I remain quiet for a while, trying to think of what I could say that would make her feel better.
Sometimes, nothing that anyone could say helps.
I’m trying to be mindful of that, especially since I don’t want to upset her more.
As I sit here, mulling things over, I realize that there’s a loud noise coming from inside the house.
“Oh, that’s so weird,” I say into the phone. “I think Logan is home.”
“Do you want me to let you go?” Mona asks.
“No, not at all. Let me just say hi to him.”
I put the phone down and get up from my chair by the pool, rushing inside the house, happy to greet my man. I’m sure he will like that, especially after all the days when I could barely make myself to wave hello to him.
When I walk in, I realize that his phone is ringing from the bedroom that we share.
I head that way, expecting to see him in there, either changing out of his clothes or maybe using the bathroom.
I frown in confusion when I find the room empty, but his phone is laying in the middle of the bed, ringing furiously.
Just as I approach the bed, it stops ringing. But not even five seconds later, it goes off again.
“Logan,” I call out, “your phone is ringing.”
I wait for him to respond, but there’s nothing. I walk outside of the bedroom and over to the rest of the house. I don’t see him anywhere. I open the garage door to see if his car is parked outside, but it’s not there. He must’ve forgotten his phone at home.
Meanwhile, the annoying ringtone of his phone continues blaring from the bedroom.
Every few rings it stops, and then it starts again, over and over.
Deciding that it must be important, I run back to the bedroom and grab the offensive device sitting on top of the comforter.
I frown at the screen when I recognize that it is New York City area code.
I slide the bar to the left and answer the call.
“About time you answered your freaking phone,” a woman’s voice yells from the other end of the line.
“Uh, hello? Are you looking for Logan?”
There’s a short pause where she doesn’t say anything. I almost wonder if she hung up, and I’m about to put the phone back down when I hear her again.
“Elizabeth?” the woman asks.
Her voice sounds familiar, like I’ve talked to her before, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Yes, this is Elizabeth,” I say.
“This is Leyla,” she tells me. She sounds annoyed that I did not recognize her voice.
I press a hand to my chest, wondering what this is about. Leyla is in charge of the PR at my father’s hockey team, the New York Sliders. I haven’t talked to her in a long time. In fact, she helped me a little bit when I was looking for a job in Austin.
Leyla’s worked for my father‘s organization for a few years now, but I was never there enough to form any type of a relationship with her.
I did see her at our house once in a while, but I always assumed that it was something business related, and I never asked any questions.
We also ran into each other at any social events my father would ask me to attend with him.
“Leyla,” I say now. “I’m so sorry. I was not expecting to hear your voice. Is everything okay with my father?
She lets out a small sound of annoyance. “Your father is fine, I’m not calling about him. I was calling to talk to Logan.”
My eyes go around the room, like I’m expecting for Logan to pop out of nowhere.
“He’s not here,” I tell her.
“It is very important that you have him call me back, okay?” I get miffed by the way she talks to me, like she doesn’t believe that I’ll remember to have Logan return her call.
“What happened?” I can’t help myself but ask.
She sighs into the phone, but this time it is not the condescending tone that she had before. This time… she just sounds sad.
“I probably shouldn’t share this with you first,” she starts. “But from what I understand, you live with Logan now, right?”
I nod in response, but then I remember that she cannot see me. “Yes.”
“There’s been an accident,” she says. “His former teammates from the New York Sliders are involved, and also one of his current teammates from the Aces.”
I instantly cover my mouth with my hand, knowing exactly who she’s talking about, but I ask anyway. “Sebastian?”
“Yes,” Leyla confirms.
“Is it bad? What happened?”
“I honestly don’t have the time to give you all the details,” she tells me in a tired tone.
“It will probably be on the news soon enough anyway, but I wanted to make sure I let Logan know about Sebastian. The next few hours are going to be chaotic, but please have him try and call me. If I’m able to answer, I definitely want to talk to him. ”
“I promise that I will.”
My stomach is in knots as I wonder about the seriousness of the accident Sebastian was in. I am also worried about the players on the Sliders team. I know some of them, they are all great people, and I’d hate to learn they got seriously hurt.
Even though Leyla has to go, she does take the time to talk to me for a few more minutes. She asks me how I am and whether I am happy. She sounds very sincere when she tells me that she’s glad things are working out between me and Logan.
By the time we hang up, I feel like I could give her a hug if she were standing in front of me.
But once she disconnects the call, I look around in a panic, realizing that if I have Logan’s phone, there’s no way for me to get a hold of him.
Who leaves their house without making sure they have the cell phone on their person?
I walk out of the bedroom as if in a daze, with nothing better to do than wait for him to get home from the store. Hopefully, it won’t be much longer. This is when I remember that I left Mona waiting on my phone because I never anticipated I’d be gone long.
Expecting to find my phone melted in the hot summer sun, I am not surprised when I only find that the battery is dead.
I pick it up and walk back inside the house to plug it in.
Since I can’t stay still, I go back outside to pick everything up.
I am getting in with a handful of towels and two empty glasses, when I hear the door opening, then closing.
I drop the towels to the floor and place the glasses next to them, then take off in a run.
“Logan!”
He grins the second he spots me heading his way.
“Hey, babe, sorry it took me a while. I couldn’t remember if you liked pineapple or not, then I couldn’t find the juice I like.
Then, I got pissed as fuck because I realized that I’d left my phone at home, so I couldn’t even call you to ask about anything. ”
I remain standing in the entrance to the kitchen, and he finally catches on that something might not be right.
“Is everything okay?”
I shake my head in an effort to stop the tears from running. “No,” I manage to choke out.
Logans instantly drops the grocery bags he’s holding before rushing to my side. “What’s wrong?”
I stare at him, unsure of how to even tell him that his friend is in serious trouble.
“Leyla just called…”
He frowns at me. “Leyla who?”
“From the Sliders’ PR,” I explain. “She kept on calling your phone, and I answered, thinking that it might be important.”
“I don’t care that you answered my phone, babe,” Logan tells me with just a hint of annoyance in his tone. “What did Leyla say? Is this something to do with your father?”
I wipe at my cheeks. “No, I thought the same, but no.” The words are lodged in the back of my throat, mostly because I am scared to say them out loud. “There was a really bad accident in New York, and some of the Sliders were involved.”
Logan’s face looks stricken with shock. “Fuck. A bad accident?”
“I think so,” I speak through my tears. “And I’m so sorry, Logan, but…”
Now I have to give him the even worse news.
“Sebastian was with them… And it’s not good for him…”
Logan takes a step back. “Are you fucking serious?”
I nod in confirmation, hating that I have to be the bearer of bad news.
Logan turns on his heels and looks around frantically. “Where’s my phone?”
I point toward the kitchen counter where I walked with it from the bedroom. He runs to it and starts tapping on the screen.
“When did this happen?” he asks. “He texted me only a few hours ago!” He turns the phone over to show me.
My shoulders sag in defeat. “I have no idea. Please call Leyla. She wanted to talk to you about it.”
Logan already has the phone to his ear, ready to find out more about his friend. I pray that whatever they tell him won’t be as bad as Leyla made it sound.
“Leyla, this is Logan Mantei,” he snaps into the phone as soon as his call is answered.
He listens for the longest time, once in a while asking short questions.
How?
When?
Where?
Which hospital?
By the time he hangs up, he looks completely out of sorts and like I’ve never seen him before. I take a few steps forward with the intent to give him a hug, but the blank stare he gives me stops me in my tracks.
“What did she say?” I whisper.
He rests his hands on his hips and drops his eyes to the ground.
“Sebastian is in a coma.” His voice is so low, I can barely make out the words. “They don’t know if he’ll pull through.”