by S. J. Bishop
"Getting prepped for surgery." I barely recognized my voice as my own. It croaked out of me like a man on his death bed. I put my head back in my hands and closed my eyes.
"Someone explain to me what the fuck happened," Keith shouted. I heard the anger in his voice, but it was drowned out by his overwhelming fear. It was a fear I shared.
"I told her to get out," I wheezed, looking up again. My eyes were bleeding tears. "I told her to get out, and then she got hit."
Keith's stony glare turned to red embers. He crossed the hospital waiting room in three large strides and pulled me out of my chair. "So this is all your fault? I should kill you where you stand. I've already lost a wife. I'm not gonna lose my daughter, too."
I heard his voice break, but his face never changed. He was a robot who'd come to kill me, and I deserved it.
"It wasn't his fault," Carter said from the corner. He hesitated, then decided it was worth Keith's wrath to keep going. "Bryant was drunk." His face reddened. "We both were. I tried to get his keys, but he pushed me off. I watched him speed through the parking lot and plow right into her. I don't think he even saw her."
"Where is he?" Keith growled. He let go of my shirt and pushed me back into the chair I'd decided to call home for the next... however long it took for Emma to get out of here.
"The police have him," Carter said.
Keith looked around like he needed to punch something. "Here," I said, handing him a pillow one of the nurses had brought out for me. He took it and ripped it to shreds. Stuffing went flying everywhere. A few people looked at him, but one of the perks of being a celebrity was that at times like these, you could get away with shit that others couldn't.
My head was in agony. My whole body felt damaged. It was as if it was me who had gotten hit by that car instead of Emma. If I could have, I would have changed places with her in a heartbeat.
"Well, what are they doing?" Keith asked, finally taking a seat between me and Carter. "I got the call a half hour ago. Why isn't she in surgery yet?"
I debated for a minute whether or not to I should tell him the truth, then decided he was gonna find out anyway. "There's a complication," I said quietly.
"What complication?" Keith asked, real alarm ringing in his voice now. I could see the panic rising in his eyes. He'd finally lost the stoicism he was known for.
"Emma's pregnant," I whispered.
His eyes widened then shrunk as he reached for my throat. Carter pulled him off me. "It's not mine," I said, gasping for air.
"Are you calling my daughter a slut?" he roared, rising from his chair. He towered over me. His question taunted me. The memory of my last words to Emma hung in my mind, trapped there like a poison without a cure.
"She's not a slut," I said, my voice fracturing. "She's just human. She made a mistake." I took a deep breath as my words sunk in. Keith's face changed. His eyes grew bright and glassy.
"If I could change anything, I would," I told him. "I'd make that baby mine. But those aren't the cards I've been dealt. And I don't care. If I get the chance to grab her, I'm never gonna let your daughter go again. No matter what."
"I'm sorry I didn't believe you," Carter said sullenly, back in his corner. "I should never have listened to anything Bryant said. My sister texted me a while ago. Everything you told me was true. I'll make sure the Association knows what Bryant's been doing."
Keith wobbled on his knees before sinking back into his chair. He buried his head in his hands and sat like that until Emma's gurney came through. We stood up together, running to her side as the nurses tried to shoo us away. She was conscious, barely, but I thought that was a good sign.
"Emma," I said, taking her hand. "I'm so sorry." Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I wiped them away. I kissed her forehead. "Can you ever forgive me?" I was desperate for her to tell me that everything would be alright. That she'd go into surgery and when she came out, she'd be the same Emma as before. But when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.
"She can't talk," the nurse said. "Now step aside; we need to get her to the surgical room."
"Just a moment," Keith said, taking Emma's other hand. He held it tightly, kissing it tenderly. "Forgive me, too," he whispered. "If I've been hard on you, it's because I saw your mother in you every time I looked at you, and God forgive me, I hated you for it."
Emma squeezed his hand and tried to talk again, but her throat was either too dry or the drugs they'd given her had rendered her speechless. Instead, she pointed at her father. I turned my eyes to him and saw fresh tears running down his cheeks.
Epilogue
Emma
"Come on," I said, bouncing Brett on my knee. "Wave to Daddy." I searched the field and found Jackson watching us with a grin on his face. He waved.
"Emma, he's too young to wave," my father said. "They don't start doing that until five months."
"Says who?" I asked.
"Says me. And I raised you, so I ought to know."
"Ha!" I cried as Brett's hand flapped up and down.
"That's just gas," my dad said. I rolled my eyes. "I still can't get used to how small his hands are. Do you think they'll get bigger?"
"Well, of course they'll get bigger," my father said. "For fuck's sake, Emma, he's only three months old."
"Dad! Language."
"Oh, right, sorry." His cheeks reddened.
The ref blew the whistle, and the players lined up. The first quarter was about to start.
"So," my dad said, glancing sideways at me. "Jackson's year-long contract is almost up. What do you think he might do?"
I grinned. "You're trying to get insider information."
"It's not my fault you’re Jackson's new agent as well as my daughter," he said. "As my daughter, you're supposed to keep me informed on things like where you might be living next season. I know Florida hasn't stopped gunning for him. Especially with his new reputation as a family man."
"I'm his wife first, your daughter second."
"I'm not sure it works that way," my dad said, grinning. I ignored him.
"And if Jackson wants to keep it a secret, then I have no right to tell. I'll let you know when I'm ready to start negotiating with you."
My dad pouted next to me as the kickoff went long. "I just don't want you to go to Florida," he said. "It's on the other side of the country. I'll never get to see you or my grandson."
I smiled softly and glanced at my father. He wasn't paying any attention to the game. I was touched that was being so open with me. I knew it still wasn't easy for him.
"Don't stress yourself about it too much just yet," I said. "Jackson's not exactly a fan of crocodiles."
My dad's eyes lit up. "Here, give him to me," he said, and I passed Brett over to him. He rocked him gently in his arms. "Who's got your nose?" he asked, grinning stupidly and making his voice go squeaky. He pretended to take Brett's nose off and hide it in his pocket. Brett laughed. "Now I'll just give it back," he said. It was so strange to hear my father making baby talk. "One day, when your biological daddy gets out of prison, I'll make sure he knows you like your nose just the way it is, not all crooked and bent out of shape like his."
"Dad," I said, shooting him an annoyed glance.
"What? He doesn't understand."
"It doesn't matter."
"Oh, fudge off, Emma," he said, grinning, and I couldn't help laughing.
Jackson missed a pass that Carter threw to him, fumbling the ball. "Fuck!" I said, standing up and screaming with the rest of the fans.
"Emma," my father said, and I looked at him. "Language."
THE END
Dirty Quarterback
BLITZ - BOOK 1
Prologue
I watched Carter from a distance and nudged Hannah. "Your brother looks..." I was about to say "good" or maybe even "amazing," but then I realized how that would probably sound and settled for "healthy," which just sounded lame. Luckily, Hannah was too preoccupied with our graduation to notice my cheeks flush.
/> "Hey guys," Carter said when he’d finally zigzagged his way through the crowd. "Congrats, little sister. You’re a free woman." He beamed at us and kissed Hannah’s cheek. After a pause, he leaned in and kissed mine too. No one thought anything of it, not even our parents. Hannah and I had grown up together. Carter had always been like the big brother that I never had.But when he kissed me, me cheeks burned a bright red. The spot where his lips had touched me was on fire.
"You’re coming to the party later, right?" Hannah asked. Carter nodded. Phil Baxter’s graduation party had been the talk of Dover Chase High for the last six months. He’d gone all out. A band, caterers, the whole nine yards.
"Good," Hannah exclaimed, then wrapped her arm around me, yanking me away. "Come on," she said, "we’ve gotta get ready."
"The party’s not till six." Hannah looked confused. "It’s only noon," I told her.
"Yeah," Hannah said. "But there’s hair and makeup and I need to check your dress. Did you get that blue one I told you to?"
I nodded and sighed. I should have known better. Between the two of us, Hannah had always been the one who cared about the girly stuff. I would have preferred to spend the next few hours lounging on my parents’ patio and going through the stuff Harvard had sent me. Three months from now, I’d officially be a student at Harvard Medical School, and my dreams would be on their way to becoming a reality.
"What are you thinking about?" Hannah asked. She knew me too well not to recognize I was a million miles away.
"Just about where we’re going. I can’t believe you and I are splitting up."
"I know. Boston and Los Angeles... we couldn’t get any further apart, could we?"
I felt my eyes tear up then Hannah couldn’t stop hers from tearing up too. "It doesn’t matter," Hannah said. "I’ll call you every day. And soon I’ll be a famous actress with tons of money and I can come visit you whenever you have time to spare for me."
"I’ll always have time to spare for you."
"Tell me that again in five months when you’re in the middle of dissecting a human body or whatever it is you freaky med students do."
I laughed as Hannah steered us towards her house.
Hours later, we emerged from Hannah’s room looking like we’d just stepped out of the pages of a magazine. I had to admit—I’d never felt so glamorous. As we walked down the stairs, I felt Carter’s eyes fall on me.
"Wow," he said. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.
"Pick your jaw up," Hannah said, pinching her brother. She was beaming though. She’d gone to a lot of trouble to make sure I—who normally preferred to wear comfy clothes and flats—looked like a supermodel.
"You guys ready?" Carter asked, and I saw he was blushing too.
"Any time you are," Hannah replied.
The three of us got into his car and drove to Phil Baxter’s house. It was already filled with people by the time we got there. "Oh! I see Bobby!” Hannah exclaimed. “I’ve gotta go talk to him. I might never see him again after tonight!" She ran off, leaving me alone with Carter.
He glanced at me sideways. I kept my eyes trained to the ground, afraid to make eye contact, knowing that one look would betray my desire. I must just be imagining that Carter was looking at me. But my heart began to palpitate anyways. Why did he smell so good?
"Want a drink?" he asked.
"Sure."
I just couldn’t understand why my heart was pounding like this. I’d known Carter forever. Yet somehow, tonight, his golden hair and tanned skin seemed to sizzle whenever I got near him.
He got us both some punch and I inhaled it and realized it was spiked. I’d never had any alcohol and my head was light in seconds. I started giggling.
"That’s good. Can I have another?" I handed my cup to Carter, who promptly refilled it.
"Wanna take a walk?" I asked. Carter nodded. We strolled into the night. Phil’s house was near the edge of the Allegheny River. We walked to its shore and sat under a giant tree that seemed to engulf us in darkness. I sighed and leaned back against Carter’s chest, feeling braver thanks to the punch. I could feel his breath quicken.
"Ava," he said. I turned to him and realized how close we were. Our lips were almost touching. I didn’t know who was responsible for what happened next—did I kiss him first or did he kiss me? —but suddenly our mouths were pressed together and our bodies were entwined.
I’d never done anything like this before. My heart thudded in my chest as I ripped away Carter’s clothes. I didn’t know whether it was the night itself or the excitement of graduation, but when our bodies fit together as one, I knew magic was real, and it was right here in Dover Chase.
1
Ava - 3 Years Later
I leaned back against the kitchen wall and closed my eyes. My head was throbbing.
"Don’t let Mr. Brewster see you do that," Terri warned.
I opened my eyes again and started moving.
"You okay?" Terri asked.
"Fine," I said. "Just tired. I pulled a double last night at Y-Mart."
Terri shook her head sympathetically. "I don’t know how you do it. I can barely handle one job, let alone two."
"Hey, Ava!" Johnny called from the back. "Order’s up."
"Thanks," I said, grabbing the food and setting it on the tray. I walked over to my table and smiled as a five-year-old from hell sucked up a straw full of soda and spit it at me. His parents, no doubt the cause of this monster, apologized but clearly thought it was funny. I wanted to smack the kid and the parents, but laughed along with them. I really needed a good tip. As soon as I could, I all but ran to the back to wash the child’s spit-laced soda off of my face. But I couldn’t do much about the stain forming on my uniform.
I took a deep breath and checked my watch. My shift at Piccadilly’s was almost over, and I was actually looking forward to going to Y-Mart. Well, that may have been an overstatement. What I was looking forward to was the lack of people who came into Y-Mart during the night shift. At least I wouldn’t have to contend with children spitting at me. I didn’t understand parents like that either. Lily was only three, but if she had done anything like that while I was out with her, I would have been mortified.
"Hi, Ava," I heard a man’s voice behind me.
"Oh, hi, Myron." He beamed at me and I darted back into the kitchen. Myron was nice enough, but sometimes it was frustrating the way he was always following me around. It was like he was always scheduled the same days as me. I would have told him to knock it off long ago, but I felt kind of badly for him. He just moved to Dover Chase a year or two ago and didn’t seem to have any friends.
"What are you doing later?" Myron asked me. I tried to busy myself by refilling some salt shakers.
"Working at Y-Mart."
"Oh. That’s nice."
I shot a glance at him. "Nice" was not typically the word people used to describe Y-Mart or those who worked there. Pathetic might have been better suited to the situation.
"Well I was just wondering if, you know, on another night when you’re not working—"
I cut him off right there, knowing where he was going with this and wishing he wouldn’t. "I’m always working, Myron. If somehow I’m not, then I’m with Lily."
"Lily could come with," Myron said. His eyes pleaded with me. I almost felt bad for the guy but not bad enough to go out with him.
"I’ve gotta..." I looked around searching for some means of escape. "Take out the trash." I grabbed a garbage bag that was beginning to overflow and hurried outside, tossing the trash into the dumpster. I stood there a second, hoping it was enough time for Myron to move along and find something else to do.
My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out. My breath caught in my throat. The test scores were in. I hesitated, but then opened my email and my stomach dropped. Forty-eight percent. An F. I’d never gotten an F in my life. I closed my phone, fighting back the tears.
"I guess it’s a good thing I’m not at Harvard. They’d hav
e thrown me out in the first three months." But deep down I knew that wasn’t true. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant right after graduation, I never would have bombed such a simple test. The fact that I couldn’t even pass some stupid online course made me feel worse than the fact I still had to go to my other job when I left this one.
Sighing, I went back inside, stopping at the table where the five-year-old monster had conducted his assault. They’d left cash for their bill. Cash usually meant a bigger tip. But these people—two dollars! Cheapskates. I clocked out and went to my locker, switching out uniforms.
"See you tomorrow, Ava," Mr. Brewster called as I left.
"Yeah, good night."
My car barely started as I stepped on the gas. I sat in it a minute, letting my head clear. My phone rang and I jumped. My mother’s voice sounded in my ears as I picked up the receiver.
"Ava?" my mom asked, breathless. There were tears in her voice.
"Mom? What’s wrong?"
"Oh honey, it’s Lily. We’re at the hospital. Something..." Mom choked on her words. "Something’s wrong with her. I don’t know what. She couldn’t breathe and I—" her voice cut off.
"I’m on my way." I peeled out of the parking lot and called Y-Mart, praying that my boss was in a good mood. When I got to the hospital, I ran inside to find my mother and father sitting in the waiting area. Dad’s face looked drawn and tired. I’d never seen him look so upset, except perhaps for on the night I’d told my parents I was pregnant.
"Mrs. Hart?" a doctor asked as he approached.
"Miss," I said, extending my hand. "What’s going on? How’s Lily?"
My heart was pounding in my chest. Lily had been born a month premature, and it seemed like she’d been plagued with illness ever since. A hospital visit was not unheard of, but still, Lily had seemed fine this morning.