“The nurses took him for some tests,” Dad says vaguely, looking up from the crossword puzzle he’s working on.
“He talking yet?” I mutter.
“No.” Dad sighs. “He’s still pretty quiet.”
“Good,” I say fiercely. “I hope this eats at him. Forever.”
“Mason,” Mom whispers the reproach, her chin quivering and eyes filling with tears. She’s been through hell these last few days. Shit, Derek’s made everyone’s lives hell for almost as long as I can remember. But he’s her son. I know it hurts her to see him in pain. As much as he deserves it.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I murmur, even though I’m not really.
Mom starts to cry softly, and I feel like a goddamn shitheel. Dad glances over at me, disappointment written all over his face. “Why don’t we go get some coffee, honey?” he says to Mom, standing and walking over to her chair. He leads her out into the hallway, tossing me a harsh look over his shoulder as they leave. I flop down into one of the chair he vacated and rub my hands tiredly over my face. I hate that I’m just making things worse for them. It’s not their fault their kid is a fucking drunk. They’re doing what any parent in their position would do: they’re being there for him. Just like they’ve always been there for me. As much as I want to punch my brother in the face for being such an asshole, I know I need to keep my shit to myself, at least while my parents are around.
A couple of minutes later, two nurses I haven’t met yet wheel Derek’s bed back into the room. “Good morning,” one of them says to me, with the kind of professional cheer in her tone I’ve come to recognize as standard for this hospital. “You must be the brother, judging from the family resemblance!” she smiles. My fists clench at the notion that I could look anything like Derek, but I just nod.
The nurses make small talk, with me and with each other, as they hook him back up to the monitoring machines and IV drips. Derek stares straight ahead, not responding and basically not registering that he even hears them. Eventually, they finish up their work. One of them scribbles a note on the little whiteboard hanging on the wall. They tell me the doctor will be by in a few hours to check on Derek. Then they walk out, pulling the door mostly shut behind them.
Leaving me alone with my brother, whom I haven’t actually addressed a word to since I arrived in Denver.
Being in the room with him without my parents is instantly tense and uncomfortable. Even more so because I don’t have a fucking thing to do. I still don’t have a phone, since one of my asshole teammates drowned my last one. I didn’t bring a book, and Dad took his newspaper with him. I’m stuck here either trying to make conversation with Derek, or twiddling my damn thumbs until my parents get back.
Fuck.
“You want me to turn the TV on?” I ask him, hoping he’ll say yes. Derek just shakes his head slightly, his dead eyes still staring straight ahead.
“Mom and Dad are in the cafeteria,” I offer grudgingly. “They’ll be back pretty soon, I guess.”
His nod is so tiny I almost wonder if I imagined it.
I take a deep breath and let it out. I look out the window at the hospital parking lot below. I wish I could leave. This shit is too awkward. But my mom would be upset if she knew I left Derek alone.
I try to figure out how I’m gonna fill the time until my parents come back. If my mom was here, she’d be bustling around the room trying to do shit for Derek.
“You need anything?” I ask. “Some water?” I nod toward the plastic carafe thing of ice water sitting on the shelf by the window.
I expect another zombie head shake. But instead, Derek turns his face to look at me.
Then, before my horrified eyes, his features crumple like a piece of paper.
“I… I killed a little kid!” he whispers, the end of his sentence turning into a moan of pure pain.
As I watch in helpless alarm, Derek starts to cry. No, cry isn’t the word. He starts to implode. Great, wracking sobs shake his entire body. The sound of his keening is awful to hear, punctuated with little cries that I think must be physical pain from his heaving lungs accordioning under his broken ribs. My brother’s entire frame seems to fold into itself; his arms reach up to cover his whole face and head, as though he’s warding off imaginary blows. He seems to literally shrink in front of my eyes.
I stand there, frozen. Watching in shock as my brother breaks down, the veneer of the boisterous, loud-mouthed drunk falls away, as do all the years of hurt feelings and grudges. For just a moment, all I see is just my big brother — the one I loved and admired so much, back before we started down the paths that took us so far away from each other. The brother I followed around like a puppy when I was six.
The one who used to beat up on me when I was ten.
The one who was getting high and staying out late partying in high school, worrying the shit out of my parents.
The one who’s created a path of destruction in his wake for years, not caring who got caught up in it.
I hate him. I hate what he’s done. To our folks. To that little girl. To me.
But for some reason, instead of telling him all that, my body rises from the shitty chair I’m sitting in. Before I realize it, I’m standing next to his bed.
I watch as my hand goes out, and places itself on his shoulder.
And stays there, as my big brother continues to sob in his hospital bed.
In the end, he just sort of cries himself out. His breath hitches, and he heaves a deep, body-shaking sigh that makes him wince from the pain.
“What am I gonna do?” he asks quietly then, his voice sounding like a bewildered child.
I’m not even sure if he’s asking me, or the room, or himself. For a second, I almost don’t respond.
“I don’t know, Derek,” I finally say. “But whatever it is, now’s the time to start.”
His eyes meet mine.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
The emptiness I see in his expression is frightening. It looks like there’s a hole in his soul. A hole of pure suffering. In all the years I’ve known Derek, I’ve never seen anything like the look on his face I see right now.
And more certainly than I’ve ever known anything, I know that the fact he killed that little girl will eat at him for the rest of his life.
Which is as it should be.
And hell, it may be the only thing that ends up saving him in the end.
I can’t forgive him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
But maybe I can try to stand by him anyway.
When my parents come back from the cafeteria, Derek has quieted. I turned on the TV so that he could disappear into himself for a while. So that we could both be alone with our thoughts.
Mom looks shaken, but a little better. Wordlessly, I stand and give her a hug. She returns it twofold, as she always does.
“Honey,” she says when we break apart. “There’s someone outside who’d like to see you.” Mom cranes her neck to look up at me, because I’m almost a foot taller than she is. “I thought maybe you’d prefer to step outside, rather than have her come in here.”
“Her?” I ask, confused. Derek’s doctor is a guy, and his nurses were just here.
Mom doesn’t respond. She looks over to the door, then back at me. She nods toward it.
A sick sensation starts to grow in my stomach.
“Please.” Mom’s eyes are wide. Her eyebrows raise, imploring me. “Just go see what she has to say.”
35
Mason
I only go out to the hallway because I don’t want to bring the fight I’m about to have with Anna into my brother’s room.
She’s standing about twenty feet away, her arms clasped tightly around her. Her head is lowered, her gaze somewhere near the floor. She looks small and vulnerable. And a little scared.
My gut twists. Because I’ve missed her like hell. And fuck, she looks even more beautiful than I remember her in my mind. But I’m so fucking angry that she’s come here. This shit with m
y brother is hard enough, but the only silver lining of being here was that I was far away from Springville and her. I don’t want her here. I don’t want her anywhere near me.
I march up to her, every muscle in my body tense in an effort to keep myself in control. She turns when she hears me, with a look of hope that quickly melts when she sees the anger on my face.
“What the hell are you doing here, Anna?” I say through clenched teeth.
“I…” She starts, her voice low and shaky. Anna swallows and her eyes meet mine. “I wanted to be here for you, Mason.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I snarl, loud enough it’s almost a shout. “What the fuck could I possibly want you here for?”
Anna flinches and takes a step back. I almost feel bad.
“I…” Her eyes fill with tears. “I shouldn’t have come,” she chokes, her voice cracking.
“Damn straight you shouldn’t have come!” I just barely manage not to send my fist into the wall next to her. “What the hell were you thinking? That I’d care if the paparazzi could get some pictures of my devoted fiancée at my brother’s bedside, to kill the rumors that this is all a sham?” My laugh is harsh, bitter. “You’ve already fucked this up, Anna. Don’t try to fix it now.”
“I know!” Anna’s crying now. Tears are streaming down her face, and it’s making me sick and also happy to know that I put them there. “I know I didn’t do the right thing, Mason! I know I screwed everything up! But I was trying! I was thinking about you, wanting to make sure everything kept going so well for you! Yes, I was stupid to do it!” Her voice breaks. “But please, if you have to hate me, then hate me for the right reasons! Hate me for being an idiot! Please, please at least don’t hate me because you think I was breaking the story to get ahead!”
Her last word ends in a sob. Anna turns away from me, covering her eyes with one hand. Her shoulders are shaking. And fuck me, I can barely stand not to put my arms around her and comfort her.
I want to hurl another insult at her, but her words have taken a little of the wind out of my sails. I haven’t let myself even consider for a second that Anna didn’t do this for her own gain. My past experiences with the media have taught me better than that. But watching her weep in front of me, she looks so sincere, so completely heartbroken.
She’s just upset because her scheme didn’t work out the way she wanted it to.
But inside, I’m waffling. Because everything I’m seeing right now tells me Anna’s not lying.
“You’re trying to tell me you spilled the beans to Mackenzie only because you were thinking of me?” I sneer. “How very noble of you, Anna.”
“I swear, Mason!” She’s still sobbing, but she squeezes her eyes shut and takes a few deep breaths, then tries again to talk. “I never meant to do anything that would hurt you or your career. I know you don’t believe me, but I was trying to protect you. I was stupid for thinking Mackenzie wouldn’t take the story and run with it. So stupid. But I’m not what you think I am. I’m not a journalist who would sell out someone I care about for a story!” She shakes her head, misery etched in her stricken features. “And maybe I was thinking of myself, too. I don’t know. But I don’t want to be part of any of that anymore. I quit anyway.”
At that announcement, my eyes snap to hers.
“What do you mean?” I squint at her in suspicion.
“I quit at WSPR,” she repeats.
Holy shit. It sounds like she’s serious. “Really?” There’s less of an edge in my voice than I want there to be. “What will you do?” I ask grudgingly.
“I don’t know.” Her breath hitches and she shrugs, looking despondent. “Maybe I’ll move back home to Nebraska. I know my dad will take me in. Maybe I can start fresh there.”
For a moment, she’s still. But then a tremble goes through her body, and I grow alarmed when I see tears start to fall down her cheeks again.
But then, it truly hits me that Anna is seriously thinking about leaving.
“Why would you leave Springville?” I murmur. “Why not just try to find another job, at another station?”
“Because I don’t want to be in Springville without being with you.” Anna’s wet eyes meet mine. “Anyway, I don’t want to be a reporter anymore, I don’t think. At least, not like this. Not when it’s all about screwing over other people to get ahead.” She sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s for the best that I go back home, to take care of my dad before he can’t take care of himself anymore. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.”
She sniffles again, then digs in her bag for a tissue. She wipes at her eyes, then starts to twist it nervously in her hands.
I watch her, struggling to process everything she’s just said. I don’t know how I feel.
I’ve been so focused on hating Anna for days. On telling myself what a fucking fool I was to fall in love with her. Because I am in love with her. Goddamnit, I am. Even now, still half-angry and not knowing what the fuck to do or say. And I don’t know how to change that, as much as I’ve wanted to.
Although I’m not so sure I want to anymore.
“Anna. Why are you here? Why did you come to Denver?” My voice comes out a little hoarse. I lean against the wall I wanted to punch a minute ago, and shove my fists into my pockets.
Anna glances quickly at me, the thinnest light of hope in her eyes, but she just as quickly looks away.
“When I heard about Derek in the news, and I texted you and you didn’t respond… well…” She takes in a shaky breath, then swallows a couple of times before continuing. “I figured you really didn’t want to talk to me. So I decided to leave you alone. It was Harriet who convinced me to try one more time to talk to you. She suggested that I should call around to hospitals in Denver. Eventually I managed to find out where Derek was.”
“Harriet convinced you?” I say in surprise. “I didn’t think she liked me.”
“I’m not sure she does,” Anna replies, her lips quirking up just the tiniest bit. “But she cares about me. And she knows how I feel about you.”
Her last words are a whisper. They pierce through my heart, almost painfully. I don’t say anything.
“When I called the hospital, they connected me to Derek’s room and your mom answered.” She looks over at me, an apology on her face. “Please don’t be mad at her for letting me come,” she begs. “I told her everything. I mean, obviously she knew about the arrangement between us. But I told her what happened with Mackenzie. And that even though I was faking being your fiancée, I wasn’t faking how I felt about you, at all.” Her voice cracks again. “And that, until I screwed everything up, I thought maybe that was how you felt about me, too.”
“Anna. You know it was.” I rasp, my voice hoarse.
It still is, I want to say. But I don’t.
She nods sadly and looks down. “I know. Your mom said she thought as much, as soon as she and your dad saw us kissing in the parking lot that day at Angelo’s. Anyway, I guess that convinced her I was telling her the truth about not leaking the story on purpose. She told me the address of the hospital, and Derek’s room number. I swear I asked for her permission before I came, Mason. I didn’t want to make things worse for your family.” Her voice softens. “But I guess I did.” Anna shakes her head and looks into my eyes. “I’ll leave, now. I just wanted to tell you face to face how sorry I am. For everything.” She takes a deep breath. “And I hope your brother gets better soon.”
Anna turns to go, but I reach out and grab her arm to stop her. She freezes at my touch.
I take another step even closer. She shifts in place, but doesn’t move, though she doesn’t look up either. With just a couple steps between us, I stop. I want her to look up at me, but I won’t force her.
“You don’t need to go anywhere, Anna.”
Other than back to my hotel room with me, I think, but I decide I can tell her that later, after she calms down.
That earns me a quick, furtive glance. “I don’t want to intrude. I know
this is about your family right now.” Anna nods toward Derek’s room.
“Yeah.” I give her a serious frown. “So it’s about time you got here.”
Anna doesn’t understand. Her eyes search my face in confusion.
“Well,” I say slowly. “You’re my fiancée, right? So you’re family.”
There’s another sniffle as her brow furrows. “But…” She trails off as I grab her hand and lift it up between us. I’m glad to see the ring is still there.
“This fiancé of yours,” I say, voice falling quiet. “I understand he’s a star football player, right?”
“But…”
“There are no buts,” I growl low in my throat. “That is, if you will have him?”
I wait, holding my breath for her verdict.
I’m done with regrets.
She sniffles again, and smiles up at me. “Why don’t you let me think about it?”
She pauses. I count two seconds, before she jumps at me, arms flung tight around my neck. My own arms are ready, wrapping around her waist and holding her close.
“Let’s start again, Mason,” she whispers.
I tighten my arms around her and let that be my answer.
Epilogue
ANNA
A year and a half later
“You okay?” Mason asks me, looking down at my white knuckles as they clutch the armrests.
“Yeah,” I say, taking a deep breath. Underneath us, the plane jolts a little as it starts to taxi. I let out a tiny squeak, and Mason grabs the hand nearest him and gives it a supportive squeeze.
“Did you take your Dramamine?” he asks.
“Yeah. About half an hour ago.” I give him a tight smile. “So I should be okay.”
PLAYERS: The Complete Series (Springville Rockets (Sports Romance Books 1-3) Page 53
