Legend (Arizona Vengeance #3)(27)

“Getting in the zone?” Bishop asks as he leans back against the wall.

“Yeah,” I tell him, because that’s the whole point of warm-ups. But something has been on my mind and this is the first time I’ve seen Bishop since the holidays. “But there is something I need to talk to you about.”

“What’s up?” he asks genially.

The elevator comes to a quiet stop and the doors open. We step off into the cavernous basement. It’s roughly finished with concrete floors, painted cinder block walls, and heavy cement support pillars. On the north end are climate-controlled storage rooms for the food vendors as well as custodial. All of the electrical and HVAC units are down here as well, but for the most part it’s just big and empty. Bishop and I are the only ones down here at the moment, which is perfect for what I need to talk about.

    We walk a few paces away from the elevator and we both automatically start with some casual stretches like lunges and knee lifts as we talk.

“I’m telling you this in our capacities as assistant captains for the team,” I begin by saying, doing a side lunge to the right.

“Shoot,” he says, his face taking on a more serious expression as he mimics my movements.

“You know Tacker spent Christmas Eve at my house…along with Dax, right?” I begin.

He nods. “Yeah. He spent a few hours on Christmas Day with me and Brooke over at her dad’s house.”

Brooke’s dad is none other than our head coach, Claude Perron.

I nod, because I knew that. “Well, Tacker was mostly Tacker for much of the evening. I mean…he had a great connection with Charlie and interacted with her a lot but outside of that, quiet and withdrawn as usual.”

“Sounds like Tacker,” Bishop says.

I nod, realizing everything we’ve said so far has probably just been wasted breath, but damn…it’s hard to talk about what I want to talk about.

    I stand up straight and step in closer to Bishop. Even though we’re alone, I feel the need to quiet my voice. “As he was leaving, he said something that bothered me a little. He thanked me for the invitation and then said he didn’t know that he would have survived the night on his own.”

Bishop’s eyes widen as understanding dawns. “Oh man.”

“Yeah,” I mutter in agreement. “And well…I’m worried. I mean, I’ve always been sort of worried about him, you know.”

“We all have. He’s been through a terrible trauma and he’s our teammate. Our captain. Everyone worries about him.”

I nod, because that is also true. “Do you think we should be ‘more’ worried?”

“Like do I think he’s suicidal?” he inquires.

“I guess,” I say with no real certainty. “I don’t know how to interpret those words. Is there hidden meaning? Do we need to intervene? Or is it possible he’s just starting to be more open and sharing his feelings? Maybe it struck me so hard because he’s so closed off all the time. Him sharing that shit with me was totally unusual.”

Bishop looks away from me, staring across the expanse of empty concrete flooring as he considers my words. When he glances back at me, he says, “Think we should talk with him?”

“Yeah, I do,” I say with a sigh. “But…he’s not the easiest guy to talk to.”

“Maybe we start out by hanging with him more,” he proposes. “That will just naturally lead into some conversation.”

“Yeah…I think that sounds good.” I feel a relief that someone other than me is worrying about Tacker too. “Tomorrow…he works out in the mornings here at the facility. Let’s work out with him and invite him to coffee or something after?”

    “He’ll probably say no,” Bishop snorts. Because Tacker is well…Tacker.

“Then we’ll keep asking until he says yes.”

“Deal,” Bishop says and holds his fist out to me. I bump mine against it.

For the next few minutes, we’re silent as we finish our stretches. My mind temporarily cleared of my worry over Tacker, I turn back to worrying about Lida and her schemes.

The thought of her having any control or care of Charlie is freaking me out. I don’t trust her with my kid at all.

“Are you okay?” Bishop asks, breaking into my thoughts. He’s jogging in place with high knees.

I look over my shoulder at him. No sense in lying. “Charlie’s mom is apparently refusing to sign the relinquishment of paternal rights to me.”

“What the fuck?” Bishop says in surprise, coming to a dead stop.

“She has an attorney who has contacted DCS. He says that she was suffering from postpartum depression when she left Charlie on my doorstep. Apparently, she’s on medication and is feeling better. She doesn’t want to give up her rights.”

Bishop leans in toward me, his face pinched tight with worry. “What in the hell are you going to do?”

I shake my head. “I have no clue. I talked to my attorney this morning and he told me to just stay cool at this point. I have an order from a judge that gives me full custody and Lida would have to challenge that. If she never does, after a certain point in time I can ask the courts to terminate her rights. So he says just lay low right now and let’s see if she makes a move to do something.”