Big Time: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by KB Winters

  “She has to be okay,” Park whispered into my hair.

  ****

  Hours dragged on as we huddled in the waiting room. We were eventually joined by Hayley Alf, Kenzie’s social worker, and Tommy, her foster brother, once he was released. He recounted the entire event for us and it was evident in his way of speaking that he was placing the blame on his own shoulders.

  “I should have made her wait inside with me, but she wanted to go next door and get something to drink. I gave her some cash and she left…then…then I heard the gunshots.”

  Stephanie rubbed his shoulder as we all chimed in that he couldn’t blame himself, but from where I was sitting, it didn’t look like our words did much to appease his guilt. He felt responsible for letting Kenzie wander out of his sight.

  My heart broke all over again for him. I couldn’t bear to think about it and I didn’t even have the real images to replay. Poor Tommy. This moment would haunt him for the rest of his life.

  “Did the police have any theories on who did this? Or why?” I asked him, trying to shift the conversation away from the details that might trigger more images of him running out and finding his little sister lying in the street, covered in blood.

  Tommy shook his head. “They think it was probably gang related but until they get more information from the other witnesses, they won’t know who. I don’t know what I was thinking, taking Kenzie to that part of town. I should have known.”

  “Tommy, come on,” I said, taking his hand. “You have to stop blaming yourself. You’ve been in that neighborhood a hundred times before and nothing happened. How were you supposed to know this time it would be different?”

  He shrugged but the guilt still twisted his expression with pain as he stared down at the tops of his shoes.

  A doctor approached us and we all leapt to our feet. “Kenzie’s out of surgery,” he started, pausing to let us all take a collective sigh of relief. “The first bullet hit her in the left side. It had a clean entry and exit but did some damage. The second bullet shattered her hip. We stopped the bleeding but it’s going to be a rough recovery, I’m afraid. We have her on some heavy medications right now to keep her sedated and will continue to monitor those as she heals up. She’s going to need multiple surgeries going forward to repair her hip as well as some intense physical therapy.” The doctor tried to offer a comforting smile. “She’s strong though. She fought hard. You can go in and see her, but she won’t be able to respond.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” we all murmured.

  We let Stephanie and Tommy go with the doctor to see her first. Kenzie had been with Stephanie and her husband, Todd, for a couple of years, and while it was a busy household, she had done really well.

  “I’ll call Todd and let him know what the doctor said,” Hayley announced, pulling her phone from her large, beige tote bag. Todd was a long distance truck driver and currently in the Southwest on a stretch.

  Park, Mary Lou, and I all sat back down and reiterated our thankfulness that Kenzie had pulled through.

  “I just don’t know what they’re going to do…” Mary Lou said after a moment. “Stephanie and Todd have two other foster kids, plus two of their own. They aren’t going to have the time or means to help her with this.”

  I sighed heavily. It was an uncomfortable truth.

  She was going to need a handful of miracles.

  Beside me, a cell phone rang, vibrating against my thigh. “Oh, this must be Stephanie’s,” I said, picking up the device. “Should I answer it?”

  Mary Lou shrugged. “It might be Todd.”

  The number didn’t register on the Caller ID but maybe he was calling from a hotel room or pay phone at a truck stop. “This is Stephanie Perkin’s phone.”

  “Is Stephanie available?”

  I glanced down the hallway that Stephanie and Tommy had gone down minutes before. “Not right now. Can I take a message?”

  “Sure, this is Langston Rose. I play for the Bitsberg Cannons—”

  “Langston?”

  “Yeah. Is this—”

  “It’s Cassie.”

  “Oh…um…did I dial wrong?”

  I pressed my eyes closed. “No…I have Stephanie’s phone. Langston, there’s…there’s been a shooting.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Langston

  “A shooting?”

  I’d waited until Saturday, to call Stephanie, Kenzie’s foster mom to set up a time and place for the ice cream party. But instead of getting her, Cassie answered the phone.

  “There was a drive by shooting earlier today and Kenzie got caught in the middle of it. She was shot twice. I’m at Yarley’s, in the Emergency Room waiting area. Stephanie left her phone behind and I answered it, thinking it was her husband calling.”

  “Damn. Is she going to be all right?”

  “The doctor thinks so but she’s still under right now. She’s going to need a lot of help to recover properly. One of the bullets shattered her hip.”

  I raked my free hand through my hair, tugging at the roots. My mouth opened but nothing came out. What was there to say in the face of such devastating news?

  “Langston? Are you there?” Cassie asked, her voice urgent and scared, as though I were her lifeline.

  “Yeah. I’ll be right there.”

  Instead of arguing, she quietly said, “Okay.”

  We hung up and I tossed the phone on the bed before racing to get dressed in something other than athletic shorts and a white tank top. I pulled on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and stepped into my favorite beat up pair of runners.

  I found Cassie pacing the Emergency Room waiting area, nibbling on her nails with each lap back and forth. When she spotted me coming in the sliding doors, she dropped her hand and hurried forward. Automatically, I opened my arms and she stepped right into them. Against my chest, all her control broke and she cried into my shirt. I held her, stroking my fingers over her hair.

  “You’re here alone?” I asked.

  She shook her head and stepped back as though just realizing how tightly she’d been clinging to me. She wiped at the tears under her eyes and then dried her fingers off on her jeans. “Stephanie and Tommy, one of her foster kids, just left to go get the other kids to come visit. Park and Mary Lou are in with Kenzie now. I was just waiting for you.”

  “Okay. Well I’m here now. Can we go see her?”

  She nodded and led the way. “Why were you calling Stephanie in the first place? How did you get that number?” Cassie asked along the way down a wide corridor.

  “Oh, right. I promised Kenzie that I’d come and take her and her family out to ice cream over the weekend. She gave me her foster mom’s number to set up a time.”

  Cassie blinked up at me and I managed a small smile. “What? You gonna lecture me about how much sugar ice cream has in it?”

  She laughed softly. “No. Not at all.”

  “Good, cause I was planning on inviting you along too. Although, now it looks like we’ll have to move the party here.”

  Cassie nodded and her eyes drifted back to the hall ahead of us. She sniffed. “That’s really sweet, Langston. I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time about the soda thing. After all this…it seems even more pathetic and small. Why argue about soda and juice when there are obviously bigger issues in the world. God, sometimes I can be such a—”

  “Hey, now, don’t go beating yourself up, Cass. You were doing your job. No one can fault you for that.”

  We came to a stop in front of the door to room number 132E. She gave me a watery smile and swiped away the new tears in her eyes before pushing into the small hospital room. I recognized Mary Lou from Harvest House and the other girl was one I’d seen with Cassie the first night we met, out at the club.

  “Nice to see you, Langston,” Mary Lou said softly.

  “Likewise,” I replied.

  Park gave me a sad smile and I noticed that she was holding Kenzie’s small hand in hers, her thumb absently running over the bac
k of the girl’s knuckles. I wasn’t sure how she knew Kenzie, but the love was obvious. Kenzie was almost hard to look at. Her little body looked even more frail in the large hospital bed. Half a dozen machines were positioned around her, each chirping and whirling as stats rolled across the monitors.

  “I need to get going,” Mary Lou announced, pushing up from her chair opposite Park. “Here, Langston, take my seat.”

  I shook my head. “Cass, you need to sit.”

  Mary Lou and Park both swiveled to look at Cassie and her cheeks flushed. She avoided eye contact with me as she crossed and took the vacant seat. We all said goodbye to Mary Lou as she left the room.

  “Did the cops catch the fuckers who did this to her?” I asked.

  Park shook her head. “They’re working on the scene. There were two other’s shot. They didn’t…didn’t make it.”

  I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck. “Shit.”

  Cassie nodded. “Tommy, Kenzie’s foster brother was inside. He saw the whole thing happen.”

  My heart twisted. That was gonna fuck him up for sure.

  “He gave his statement to the cops and they are tracking it down. Most likely it was gang related. She was in a shitty part of town.”

  I leaned against the bar at the foot of the bed and stared up at the small girl tucked neatly under the covers. “Come on, Kenzie. You’re tough. You can pull through this. And, tell you what, I’ll hook you up with the best PT’s in the biz when you bust outta this place.”

  Park smiled and pressed a kiss to the back of Kenzie’s hand. “That’s right, baby girl.”

  I tore my eyes from the sleeping girl and glanced between Cassie and Park. “You two ladies need anything? I can go on a coffee run. Food?”

  Cassie started to object, “You don’t have to—”

  “I want to, Cass. Please, let me do something to help.”

  “I’ll take a latte and some kind of scone,” Park said. “It’s cheat day.”

  “Right,” I replied with a laugh. “Cass? Last chance?”

  “I can’t eat anything.”

  “All right.” I brushed my hand over her shoulder on my way toward the door. “Back in a flash.”

  “Thank you, Langston,” Park said.

  I pushed out of the door but stopped short of closing it as a team of doctors and nurses sped by with a woman on a cart, forcing me to freeze in place, pressed against the door.

  “What is your problem, Cass?” Park hissed, her voice filtering out to me through the crack in the door. I waited, holding my breath, to see what Cassie would say back.

  “I don’t have a problem,” she insisted, too quickly.

  “You’re being a brat.”

  “No. I’m just…keeping my distance.”

  “Baby girl, you know I love you, but you’re being an idiot right now. He’s hot, single, rich, famous, and he is crazy about you. This is a run, don’t walk, kind of situation.”

  I smirked to myself, silently thanking Park for her assistance and then silently shut the door the rest of the way. I didn’t really know much about Park, but whoever she was, she’d make one hell of a wingman.

  ****

  “So, how do you and Park know each other?” I asked Cassie, hours later, as I walked her out to my car. Kenzie was being tended to by her doctor and a nurse had gently forced the three of us from her room. Park had driven herself to the hospital but claimed to not have room in her car when Cassie had insisted that she could catch a ride with her instead of with me. Park had flashed me a knowing smile and said goodbye, sticking Cassie with me—much to Cassie’s chagrin.

  Cassie tucked two strands of hair behind her ears as the wind picked up the ends. “She used to work at Harvest House. We met when I first took the job and we’ve stayed close over the years.”

  “Aha. That explains how she knows Kenzie.”

  “Yeah. They were always super close. Even now, Park comes in once a week or so to hang out and drop off treats for the girls. Her mom runs a restaurant in China town.”

  “Nice. Remind me to try it out one of these days.”

  I opened the passenger door of my ’67 Chevelle and Cassie dropped inside. I shut the door gently and hustled around the front. “All right, you’ll have to give me directions here.”

  Cassie rattled off a set of instructions and I revved the engine up.

  It was an overcast day, but I blinked up into the light after spending the majority of the afternoon inside the hospital.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked, glancing over at her as we came to a stop at a red light.

  Cassie dropped her eyes to her hands as they twisted and knotted together in her lap. “Shitty. I hate that I couldn’t stay with her. What if she wakes up and she’s all alone and scared?”

  I reached across the dash and took her hand. “Pretty girl, she’s in good hands. The doctor said she won’t even be awake for a while. Maybe a couple of days. She needs to sleep so she can heal.”

  Cassie nodded and sniffled.

  I kept her hand as the light changed, using my knee to guide the wheel around the corner. “This you?” I asked, looking up at a series of apartments perched over a strip of retail shops.

  She looked up the strip of shops and nodded. “Yeah. You can park wherever you can. I don’t mind walking a little way. It can get kind of busy around here on Saturdays.”

  I swung into the first spot I saw open and killed the motor. For a long moment, we sat in silence, staring up at the apartments above. Cassie didn’t try to take her hand from mine and I brushed my thumb over her knuckles softly. She looked up, meeting my eyes, and neither of us said a word.

  Her lips parted and I leaned closer, desperate to kiss away the pain in her eyes. She didn’t move and when our lips touched, the kiss rapidly deepened into desperation, as we held each other.

  When we stopped to catch our breath, our heads rested together and Cassie whispered, “Don’t go, yet. Come up with me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Cassie

  “Nice place,” Langston commented as I pushed into my apartment and flipped on the entry way lights.

  My apartment was small, but I kept everything clean and organized. Too organized, if Park was right. She called it serial killer chic. I’d received a label maker a few Christmases ago from my mom and had gone a little overboard. Maybe. In any case, it was home.

  I glanced over my shoulder as Langston stepped inside and closed the front door behind him. It was strange to see him against the backdrop of my apartment. It was certainly not a scenario I’d seen coming at all. At least not in real life. In many of my fantasies, we’d tangled together on my couch or in my bed. My gaze fell to my kitchen table and my cheeks flushed. Yeah…there too.

  “Do you want anything to drink? I think we’d be in the clear to switch over to something harder than coffee, given the day…” I paused, letting a wave of sadness pass over me. “I think I have a couple of hard ciders in here somewhere,” I asked, moving to the fridge. My throat was dry but I knew it had nothing to do with needing a drink.

  Down in the car, pressed against Langston, pouring all my emotions into that kiss, and then asking him to stay was just a thought that had barely circled through my clouded mind before finding its way out my kiss-swollen lips. Now…standing in my small kitchen, smelling the lingering trace of his cologne as he came to stand beside me, I was nervous all over again, as though we’d only just met.

  Langston took my place at the fridge, gently pulling my fingers from the handle. “Here, let me get them. Go sit.”

  My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I stared up at him. His hazel eyes were soft and full of…concern? Whatever it was, gleaming in those green-brown pools, it made me want to cry all over again.

  “Thanks. Glasses are above the sink,” I said, backing up a step. I pointed to the trendy open shelves above the sink where a line of six matching glasses sat.

  Langston pulled the fridge open and before I turned away to go
into the living room, I noticed a faint smile on his lips as he checked out the contents inside. He grabbed two bottles of hard cider and I went over to the brown couch lining the wall opposite my small flat screen TV.

  The kitchen was visible over a half wall and I smiled as Langston bustled around in my kitchen, and then filling the glasses. I thought back to what I’d seen of his sprawling estate on my mad dash out the night we’d spent together. He probably had a pantry that was large enough to fit my entire kitchen inside. Hell, he probably had a walk-in closet in his bedroom that was as big as my entire two-bedroom apartment.

  With a sigh, I sagged back against the overstuffed couch. I loved my job but it certainly didn’t pay well. Most of the items in my apartment were second-hand pieces that I’d rehabbed back to life. I’d made my own curtains, reupholstered the couch I was sitting on, and had patched and stained the coffee table in front of me. Even the throw pillows were thrift store finds that I’d put fresh covers on. I always loved having my own stamp on my home and didn’t mind that so much of it was DIY. But now, watching Langston putter around the small kitchen, I wondered what he was thinking.

  He came out to the living room a moment later, wearing a soft smile, as he carried the two full glasses of cider. He handed me one and waited a beat for me to shift in my seat before he took the spot beside me, so close that his muscled thigh pressed against my knee as I perched cross legged in the corner.

  “Thanks,” I said, glancing down at the cold glass in my hand.

  “No problem.” He took a sip of his and smiled. “Shit, the good stuff.”

  I laughed softly. “Park spoils me.”

  “Aha.”

  “You might have noticed that I don’t exactly have a champagne budget.”

  His brows creased. “What do you mean? This place is super nice.”

  I snorted into my drink. “Compared to…?”

  Langston angled his body toward me. “I keep telling you that I’m not who you think I am, Cass. When are you gonna believe me?”

  My cheeks warmed and I took a long sip to buy myself a few moments to answer.

  Langston pressed on. “Yeah, I live in a big house, but that wasn’t always the case.”