Chapter Thirteen
T he first thing Jackson saw when he entered Tommy’s hospital room the following morning was the giant banner that stretched the full length of the wall opposite the bed. Covered in green painted letters and what looked like several fistfuls of gold glitter, it was kind of hard to miss.
Get Well, Tommy! Bulldogs Always Bounce Back!
Dozens of signatures surrounded the main message. A quick glance told Jackson the banner had been signed by his players, although Stokes’s, Collier’s and Brown’s names appeared to be notably absent.
“Well, look at this,” Jackson said, gaze sweeping over the flower arrangements, teddy bears and stuffed bulldogs covering every surface. “I guess I’m not the first visitor this morning.”
“Hi, Coach!” Tommy beamed. The boy looked impossibly small tucked into his white bedsheets, and a black eye had blossomed since Jackson had seen him the night before. But he was okay, and against all odds, he was happy. That was all that mattered.
“Hello, Coach Knight. Thank you so much for coming.” Tommy’s mother rose from the chair beside the bed to clasp both of Jackson’s hands with hers. “Tommy’s had a lot of visitors today, but I know there’s no one he’d rather see than you.”
Jackson’s heart clenched at her kind words. She had every right to blame him for what had happened. His team was the reason her son was lying in a hospital bed right now. She should be yelling or screaming or demanding answers. Not thanking him and treating him like visiting royalty.
“I’m happy to be here. I’d never miss the big send-off.” Jackson reached out to give Tommy’s foot a gentle squeeze through the green-and-white Bulldog blanket folded at the end of the bed. “I hear you’re headed home, bud.”
The nurses had given him an update when he’d passed the medical desk after exiting the elevator.
Jackson guessed that had violated at least one or two privacy rules, but he’d been grateful for the update.
With Calla’s latest column splashed just under the banner on the front page of today’s paper, Tommy’s hospitalization was literal headline news. The cat was officially out of the bag.
The article had been brief and to the point.
Knowing Calla, she’d fought for every single word.
When they’d parted ways last night, she hadn’t been convinced her boss would even let her run it.
Seeing her byline above the fold had been both a surprise and a relief.
Tommy’s name had been left out of the piece, but trying to keep a secret in Bishop Falls was next to impossible—especially if said secret involved the Bulldogs.
“We’re just waiting on the discharge paperwork.” Mrs. Riess flitted around the room, straightening the get-well gifts like she didn’t know what to do with her hands.
“The cheerleaders were here, and some of the guys from the team just left.” Tommy struggled to sit up higher, wincing a bit.
“How are you feeling today? How’s your head?” Jackson asked. Now that the doctors weren’t worried so much about his spleen, Tommy’s concussion was Jackson’s main concern. As a professional player, he knew all too well the long-term consequences that could arise from head injuries.
Tommy was too young to be dealing with this. He was only in tenth grade. The kid couldn’t even drive yet. It would’ve been bad enough if he’d been hurt during practice or a game, but this…
A bitter taste crawled up the back of Jackson’s throat.
“Not too bad.” Tommy’s fingertips grazed his left temple. “My headache is almost gone.”
“It’s his ribs that are really bothering him today. The doctors say there’s not much they can do for the bruising, other than ice and rest. It’s just going to take time.” Mrs. Riess took a long inhale. “He’s already talking about getting back on the field, and I keep telling him there’s no hurry.”
Jackson crossed his arms. “Listen to your mom, bud. That’s not a conversation we should be having right now.”
“Because this is a bye week. That gives me some extra time to get better,” Tommy said.
Maybe it was a good thing that he still wanted to play. Other players facing the same circumstances would’ve given up on football. It wasn’t like Tommy didn’t have anything else going for him. He had marching band and his job at the vet clinic, plus he was an honor roll student.
The kid had heart, though. Giving up wasn’t in his nature. When it came to football, that was just as important as athletic ability, contrary to what a lot of people probably believed.
“Let’s just get you home and healed first. How about that?” Jackson forced a smile. Odds were, he’d never see Tommy play again. The season would be over in just a few weeks, and then he’d be headed back to Chicago.
If you even last that long.
It felt like a pretty big if at this point.
Overnight, everything had changed, and for once, Jackson wanted to be on the right side— publicly —regardless of what anyone thought.
But was he willing to take a stand if doing so meant losing his job?
Because if he did, that would mean walking away from Bishop Falls. From the team. From Calla…
He just wasn’t ready. Not yet.
“Coach, can I talk to you in the hall for a second before you go?” Mrs. Riess said, dragging him away from his thoughts and back to the here and now.
Jackson nodded. “Of course.”
He said his goodbyes to Tommy and followed the teen’s mother out of the room as his gut tied itself up in knots.
This couldn’t be the end. There had to be a way to make sure something like this never happened again without getting himself tossed out of town for cutting the football program off at the knees.
There were only three games left in the regular season.
If they finished with a perfect 9–0 record, the Bulldogs would advance straight to the state championship playoffs in Austin.
Could the team win without the so-called Holy Triangle?
The door to Tommy’s room clicked shut behind him, and Mrs. Riess lifted tired eyes to meet his gaze.
She didn’t bother asking whether her son’s attackers would be punished.
She already knew, and the answer was etched in the worry lines that creased her forehead and the tremble of her hands as she brushed her hair from her face.
“Coach, my son has always been the quiet kid at school. He’s gentle and sweet and goes out of his way to never cause trouble. ”
Jackson’s throat went thick, and as he looked into her glassy eyes, wide with sorrow, his mind went back to the warning his agent had given him back on his first day in Bishop Falls.
No trail of broken hearts in your wake.
He’d laughed it off, thinking it would be easy to swear off the sort of fleeting romantic entanglements and hollow promises that made up his dating history.
Heartbreak came in many forms, though. Jackson should’ve learned that lesson by now, given his upbringing.
He kept people at arm’s length for a reason, convinced he knew what heartbreak felt like.
He didn’t ever want to feel unloved or unwanted again, so he never gave anyone the chance to hurt him.
He’d thought he was untouchable. The only person on earth who had the power to crack his heart in two was Ryan, and that was one person too many.
And now Bishop Falls seemed intent on proving otherwise.
Everywhere he turned, he was faced with heartbreak like he’d never known.
Ethan’s accident had touched everyone around him in different ways, and now, once again, he was looking brokenness right in the face.
It was a wonder he didn’t want to run away from this place as fast as he could.
He’d been running his entire life, though. It had certainly served him well on the football field. But if the past few months had taught him anything, it was that football wasn’t real life. Sooner or later, he’d have to hang up his cleats and stand still.
“Tommy didn’t deserve this,” Mrs. Riess said as she swiped at the tears rolling down her round face.
“No one does.” Jackson reached for the tissue box situated on the corner of the nurse’s station and handed her one.
Helplessness tore at him. If handing her a tissue was the only real thing he could do to help, he didn’t deserve to coach those boys.
“I know it’s too little, too late, but I’m sorry.
I’m not standing here as Tommy’s coach right now—I’m a man who failed your son.
Please believe me when I say I’ll do everything I can to make this right.
I know it doesn’t help right now, but I’m here for you and Tommy.
If there’s anything I can do for either of you, just say the word. ”
“I appreciate that, but I know how this town works. This will just be another story about how the Bulldogs are cursed.” Another tear slid down her cheek and this time she didn’t bother wiping it away.
“I need you to promise me something, though. When my son gets back on the field with those boys, I need to know he’ll be safe. That’s all I ask.”
He could promise that much, couldn’t he?
Those kids should never set foot in Bulldog stadium again, and you know it. What happened Halloween night hadn’t been a hazing incident. It was assault, plain and simple.
“You have my word,” Jackson said.
Then he bowed his head and made his way back home to try and figure out how to keep it.
* * *
“Oh, good.” Relief washed over Cade’s face as he stood on Jackson’s front porch the following morning. “I tried to call you a few times yesterday, and you never answered. I wasn’t sure you’d be here when I showed up this morning.”
Jackson clipped Bishop’s leash onto his collar and stood, meeting his friend’s gaze. “I’m still here.”
“I’m glad. I heard what happened Saturday night, and when I couldn’t get ahold of you, I thought…” Cade shook his head. “Never mind what I thought. I’m glad you’re still around. Let’s just leave it at that.”