Say the Word(102)

“Did you see it?”

“See what?” I whispered back.

She held my eyes for a beat, a flicker of unease flashing across her face. “One of the names on the list…”

“Yeah?” I prompted.

“It was Senator Covington.”





Chapter Twenty-Eight





Then


“Yahtzee!”

“How are we even related?” Jamie snorted. “This is poker. You don’t yell ‘Yahtzee’ in poker.”

“I have a royal flush and just whooped your ass — I’ll yell whatever I damn well please!” I grinned.

“She must be cheating.” Bash shook his head. “Maybe she’s counting cards?”

Jamie snorted. “Oh, please. She’s not that smart.”

“Hey!” I objected.

“I think it’s more likely that you’re going easy on her,” Jamie said. “To keep her from whining about her losses all night.”

“Or maybe Bash is just a shitty dealer,” I chimed in, sticking out my tongue in my boyfriend’s direction.

Bash raised his brows at me. “Oh, really? Well maybe you should walk home tonight.”

I turned to Jamie with a shameful look on my face. “He forgets that his keys are in my purse,” I said, nodding in Bash’s direction. “It’s all looks, no brains with this one.”

At that, Bash leapt from his seat and pulled me into a playful headlock. “Someone’s asking for it, today,” he muttered, tickling my side with his free hand. I giggled, squirming in his arms so I could look up at his face.

“I might be asking for it,” I whispered slowly, a telltale blush rising to my cheeks. Bash leaned in to bump his nose against mine.

“Later,” he promised in a whisper.

Jamie began to wretch loudly, his fake-vomiting antics a clear protest of our mini PDA session. “Seriously, you guys are gross. Watching that two second interaction was more painful than a two hour round of chemo, I swear to you.”

Laughing, I detached from Sebastian and hopped up on the bed next to Jamie. I snuggled lightly into his side, laid my head on his shoulder, and wrapped an arm around his midsection.

“You nervous?” I asked in a quiet voice.

I felt Jamie’s body tense slightly. “A little,” he admitted, his voice unsteady.

I hated that he was afraid.

“You’re gonna do great, man,” Bash said, settling into the chair on the other side of Jamie’s hospital bed.

“Dr. Huntington has a spotless record, and I asked all the nurses about him,” I revealed. “He’s one of the best surgeons on staff. You’ll be in great hands, Jamie.”

“It’s not that,” he said flatly, staring down at his left leg which, after tomorrow, wouldn’t be there anymore.

“I know,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I wish there was another way.”

We fell into sad moment of reflection, each wrapped up in our individual musings, until Sebastian cleared his throat and shattered the heavy silence.

“I know this is a few weeks late, and I feel like a real dick for hanging onto it for so long,” Bash said, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out an envelope. A red adhesive Christmas bow, flattened from its time in his pocket, was affixed to the top. “Merry Christmas, man.”

He handed the thin package to Jamie, who accepted it with a stunned expression.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Jamie said, eyeing the envelope curiously. “And now I feel like a dick. Your gift may be late, but I didn’t even bother to get you anything.”

Bash laughed. “Well, before you convince yourself that I’m entirely selfless, just open it.”

Jamie happily tore into the paper and pulled out two vouchers. The familiar hammer sigil alongside trademark blue and red script made them instantly identifiable.

“Dude! This is sweet!” Jamie grinned, holding the Braves tickets aloft. “I’ve never been to a major league game!”

“That second one’s for me,” Bash noted, grinning. “See? Not so selfless after all.”

Jamie laughed, reading the tickets more carefully. “Wait, are these…” he trailed off. “No way! No freaking way!”

He sat straight up in bed, his excitement tangible and his sudden movements launching me onto the floor.

“Care to enlighten me?” I asked Sebastian, arching an eyebrow as I regained my balance. I’d never seen my brother so excited.

Bash laughed, watching with a happy smile as Jamie practically bounced up and down in anticipation. “They’re VIP Meet & Greet passes. You get to tour Turner Field before the game, meet all the players, take photos, get autographs… It’s supposed to be awesome.”

“Wow,” I murmured, more than a little in awe of my boyfriend. He’d managed to turn this day of mourning and grief into one of light and joy for my brother — a price I’d never be able to repay. Slipping one hand into his, I squeezed lightly and dropped my head against his shoulder. “I love you.”

Bash kissed the top of my head. “The tickets are flexible, so we can choose a game once the season kicks off and Jamie’s feeling up for it.”