Fumbled (Playbook #2)(85)

I watch, frozen to the spot, as the Mustang coaches and trainers rush to the field, pushing players away, creating space for the medics already making their way to TK. The hit replays on the JumboTron, actually in slow motion this time, and competes with my mind. I screw my eyes shut, trying to block it out. Thinking to minutes ago when I dropped a kiss on TK’s lips. To last night, lying in bed, his heavy thigh draped over mine as we fell asleep. Me stupidly agreeing to come to another game. Me pretending I could tag along for the ride while it lasted.

Ace’s sniffling pulls me out of my stupor.

I turn around to look at him, hoping I was able to shield him from the worst of it, but his face is ashen and his beautiful green eyes are haunted as they focus on the screen above the end zone.

I reach for him, realizing Charli’s hand is locked in mine, squeezing hard, trying to evoke a comfort that, quite frankly, doesn’t exist. I try to smile at her before I pull my hand away.

“Let’s go, buddy.” I move the nachos from his lap and put his drink in the cup holder in front of him, but he doesn’t move. He’s staring, his eyes glazed over and unseeing, at the field, where TK’s still lying on the ground, surrounded by teammates on a knee with their heads dropped in prayer. Color has returned to Ace’s face, but it’s green. I know he might seek emancipation if I pick him up and carry him out of this stadium, but I’m willing to chance it. “Ace.”

His head snaps up, the sudden movement forcing the tears brimming in his eyes to fall over.

“Come on,” I whisper.

He nods, swiping at his cheeks, not wanting anyone to see he’s crying, and puts on a brave face. He looks up at me, then reaches his hand to mine, locking our fingers together. “It’s fine, Mom,” he whispers back. “It’s gonna be okay.”

I know he’s not talking about TK. I know he sees through me just as quickly as I see through him. And it makes me feel equal parts proud and guilty. We’ve been through a lot together, and as much as he looks like and worships TK, he’s still my boy.

Always will be.

“I know.” I nudge my head toward the aisle and tighten my grip in his. “Ready?”

He takes a deep breath, knowing without me telling him that this is our last time in Mile High Stadium. “Yeah, Mom.” He smiles, it’s weak, and his dimple is nowhere to be seen, but it’s still a smile and I’ll take what I can get. “I’m ready.”

“Call me?” Charli asks, also forcing a smile, but all I see are the streaks in her makeup and melted mascara.

“Of course,” I lie.

We haven’t known each other long enough for her to catch the lie and I feel the stab of guilt when she leans in and hugs me, whispering in my ear, “TK’s a beast. He’ll be fine.”

I don’t say anything because I can’t lie again.

And we both know he won’t be.

Fucking football.





Thirty-seven




A small silver lining is that Mrs. Duncan is a huge Mustangs fan, so the phone doesn’t even finish one full ring before she picks up.

“I’ll meet you at your house,” she answers without a hello. “Tell Ace I’m bringing peach cobbler.”

“Thank you.” I let out the deep breath I’ve been holding.

Just like last time, the Mustangs trainers called me to give me an update on TK and tell me to come see him.

But unlike last time, he’s not in the training room. Instead, he’s being transferred to Saint Joseph Hospital, where he’ll be under observation overnight.

“Mrs. D says she’s bringing you cobbler.” I look at Ace in my rearview mirror. “And I’m sure she won’t mind if you invite Jayden over.”

“Jayden’s at the game,” he says to the window.

Crap.

I know he wants to see TK, but I also know the last time we were at Saint Joseph, we were saying our final good-byes to Maya. Seeing his dad in the same place will be too much. I suspect he knows it, too, which is why he didn’t fight me when I said I was going to drop him off at home.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, even though I know he’s not. “It’s okay to be worried and sad.”

“I’m fine.” He keeps his eyes focused on the fogged-over window. “Tell TK I said I hope he feels better.”

God.

My nose begins to burn as my vision clouds over and I damn near bite through my bottom lip trying to hold back the river of tears threatening to break free.

TK. Not Dad.

I want to punch my steering wheel and scream at the top of my lungs. I’m pissed at TK for putting us in this situation. Pissed with myself for letting TK burrow so deep into our lives that now I can almost see the hole forming in Ace’s heart. I want to rip apart the freaking world.

I don’t.

I tap my brake and check my speed. Because that’s my job. Has been since I walked out of a clinic and away from my parents ten years ago. I hold myself together. I make sure Ace is safe, mentally and physically.

I slipped up.

But I know for damn sure it won’t happen again.

Not ever.

We pull up to the house at the same time Mrs. Duncan opens the door to her Camry, climbing out of the car with a giant metal tray.

“Go help,” I tell Ace.