Below the Belt(67)

Hello, * Police? I’d like to make a report . . .

After a quick knock, his roommate stuck his head in. “Decent?”

“If I wasn’t, would you be staying to watch?” Brad rested his back against the side of the bed, resigned to company, but mentally rejoicing at the break. He’d finish his exercises later. Right now, Higgs was the perfect distraction. “What’s up?”

“Just curious why you weren’t with the hot AT, and seeing if you wanted company or to be left alone.” Settling in a chair, Higgs scanned the room. “So, are you sticking it out?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” He thought back to their first conversation. “How about you? Thinking of bailing?”

Higgs shrugged, looking unconcerned. “More fun than hanging out back at my own battalion. Here, I get to punch things.” He grinned, then his grin faded as his eyes caught on something sitting to the side of the bed. “Wanna talk about that?”

Brad knew what it was before he even looked. It was the knee brace the physical therapist had badgered him into getting, which he knew he’d never use but got just to get the therapist to shut up about it. He had a childish second of debate over whether to shove the brace under the bed, then realized how stupid that was. He rolled his eyes, making light of it. “That’s nothing. Overcautious docs.”

“Overcautious doc, or idiotic Marine?” Higgs scowled. “Dude, what’s going on? And don’t give me shit about it not being my business,” he said, cutting Brad off before he could speak. “I’m part of this team, and we’re both group leaders. Just tell me straight.”

Half his career had been about making last-second judgment calls. It had served him well up to now. He’d just have to keep going. “Just a small knee thing. Nothing big.” He looked at his phone as it rang again. His mother . . . again. He silenced it and put it aside.

“So what, Cook prescribed the brace? Why aren’t you using it?”

“Just got it today.” Truth. “And no, she didn’t. A PT did. Don’t worry about it, Mommy,” he mocked. “I’m fine.”

Higgs stared at him for a moment, then shook his head in disbelief. “Cook doesn’t know, does she? She’d be all over your ass for it if she did. She’d be shoving pamphlets down your throat about knee exercises and proper brace etiquette. You’re keeping it from her.”

“There’s nothing to keep from anyone. It’s no big deal.” Jesus H., would everyone just drop it? “I’m taking care of it, so don’t freak out.”

Higgs stood, still shaking his head. “Man, you need to get your shit sorted out. Is boxing worth busting your knee up? Is it seriously?”

“You don’t know anything about what this means to me, so don’t throw that pile of shit my way.” Angry now, he worked on standing as effortlessly as he could. His knee clicked viciously, but held him up. “You want to play the judgment card, then go right ahead. But I’m making the goddamn team. That’s the end of it.”

“Maybe it will be the end of it.” Looking disgusted, Higgs closed the door behind him.

What, so now you’re a comedian? Pride dented, Brad walked over and kicked the knee brace. It flew into the wall with a dull thump and landed, no worse for the wear.

“No, you know what?” Higgs reentered the room as if he’d never left. “You need to tell Cook. Tonight.”

“Or what, you’ll do it for me?” Brad picked up the brace, dusted it off—the thing had cost him a freaking car payment out of pocket—and set it on the chair. “I thought making the team wasn’t that important to you.”

“You jackass.” Giving him a pitying glance, Higgs sat on the corner of the bed. “Push me away all you want, but I live here, so I’m just gonna keep coming back. You can’t get rid of me. I’m your personal circle of hell.”

“Goody.” Brad picked up his phone and set it on the nightstand by the alarm clock.

Higgs studied him a minute. “Tell her.”

“I will.” Eventually.

“Tell her now. She’ll be pissed, but Cook doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman to hold a grudge.”

“Lot you know.” All women held grudges. It was coded in their DNA. Having a younger sister had taught him that one fast enough. “And pissing her off isn’t what I’m worried about.”

“What is?”

Making her give up on me.

He scoffed, tried to play it off. “I’ve got an easy thing with her. Don’t wanna blow it, right?”

His roommate blinked once, twice, then laughed. Laughed until his sides apparently hurt, as he doubled over and grabbed his stomach. “Oh . . . oh my God . . . Oh, that was a good one.” Higgs knuckled a tear away. “Do it again. Do the I’m Benny Badass Womanizer again. Wait, let me get my phone first so I can record it. I wanna show Sweeney.”

“Kiss off.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” He shook his head, chuckling as he walked to the door. “You’ve got an easy thing with her, that’s for sure. But it’s not about the sex. Or not just about the sex,” he corrected as he closed the door.

“Guy thinks he’s a fortune-teller,” Brad muttered as he studied the brace. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, unsure whether he should call Marianne or his mother first. Mom, probably, to get that over with. Then Marianne.