Reckless: A Bad Boy Sport Romance (51 page)

“Sure, I'd – one second.” I reached into my wristlet for my ringing phone.

“Go ahead.”

“Hello?”

I held the phone to my ear, the laxed smile on my face fading. With every word on the other line, I could feel the energy slowly escaping my legs. But I stood perfectly still, nodding mechanically.

“I'll be right there.”

“Carrie? Everything alright?”

“It's my nephew, Jackson. He's had another seizure – a bad one. They're rushing him to Bellevue's right now.
”

Chapter Eight:
Carrie

“Come on, Daddy. This is boring,” I whined from the driver's seat of the car, swinging my legs restlessly. “The Ghostbusters cartoon is on. Can't we go inside? Pretty please?”

“Nope. Come back out here, Carrie,” Dad called out from behind the raised hood of his beloved Land Rover.

“Fine,” I singsonged under my breath as I hopped out of the car to join him.

“Where's the dipstick?”

“Right there.” I pointed to the yellow looped cap near the front of the engine.

“Good.” Dad pulled out the dipstick and handed it to me. “What's next?”

I sighed, taking the dipstick from him grudgingly, and wiped it down on a dry drag. Dad reached for the dipstick and injected it back into the tube again before handing it back to me. I squinched my eyes and leaned forward, examining the dipstick.

“What's that tell you?”

“The oil's under the minimum mark, so I guess that means it needs more oil, right?”

“Yup. Get to it.” Dad thrust a blue jug of oil in my hands.

I found the yellow cap with the picture of an oil can on it and loosened it, dipping the oil slowly and checking in between to make sure I wasn't spilling.

“Awesome job, princess.” Dad slapped me a high five.

“I like spending time with you, Daddy, but this is so boring. Why can't we go inside and watch cartoons all day instead? Mommy and Jamie are at dance practice, so we've got the whole place to ourselves! There's some ice cream in the fridge, too – 3 flavors!”

“I like spending time with you, too, Carrie.” Dad sat down on the ground and patted the spot next to him. “I know this is boring, but you know why your mom and I teach you all these things? How to cook for yourself, how to do the laundry, how to change the oil in your car...”

“No, why?”

“I want you and Jamie to learn independence at an early age. Family's all you got in this world, and I want you to learn how to take care of each other. You, especially, Carrie. You're the big sister.”

“Me?”

“Yup.” Dad sighed, his untamed biker beard rustling from his breath. “That way, if something ever happens to your mom and I, you'd know how to look out for your little sister.”

“But nothing's ever gonna happen to you or Mom, right? That's just an 'if', right?” My gut was churning just from the thought of it. I clung onto Dad's arm with both hands, hugging him as tightly as I could.

“Don't you worry, Carrie. I'm not going nowhere,” said Dad softly, planting a kiss on my forehead. “I'll always be with you. I promise.”

I bounced off my study stable, waking up with a start.

My hands were still stretched out over the keyboard, and some paper was caught on my face, stuck to the damp tear tracks. I yawned, doing some claw stretches to get rid of the numbing jolts shooting up and down my fingers.

When I peeled the paper off my face to get a groggy look at it, my stomach dropped. It was Jackson's hospital bill. I gawked at the total printed across the bottom of the page in block letters with blurring vision – $4,967.

A defeated howl ripped out of my throat, the only noise to penetrate the unmoving stillness of my bedroom.

I was still working on the $1,252 balance left from Jackson's hospital bill 2 months ago. My mind flashed to Jackson's helpless, bloated face, his ruddy cheeks completely devoid of color. The image from yesterday morning was still so fresh in my mind. All the tubes jammed up his nostrils and into his arm, and his tiny body on the hospital bed made him look so fragile. While Jackson slept, he hugged his new toy close to him, the dinosaur rising and falling with his chest.

Taking a deep breath, I dabbed at my eyes with one of the crumpled tissues on my table. I turned back to my laptop and shook my mouse, rousing it from its humming slumber. A Word document appeared on the screen, bearing the title of the article, “10 Reasons To Try Viagra Today.” The rest of the page was blank.

In an effort to rake in as much extra income as possible, I was taking up any freelance writing job I could find on the internet. The work was almost always tedious and a grave insult to my writing abilities, but I never declined an offer. At this point, I was in no position to turn anything away for something as petty as my dignity.

As I cracked my knuckles and prepared to get back to work, my phone started dancing across my table.

“Hello?” My voice was still raspy from sleep.

“
Oh my God, Carrie. You – you'll never guess what just happened –
”

“What's going on?” I wrapped my fingers around the edge of my desk. “Is Jackson okay?”

“
Yes, he's fine – he just had lunch, and now he's taking another nap. If all goes well, he'll be discharged on Wednesday, just as planned.”

“Good –”

“
Kingsley Kelly was just here, and he just paid Jackson's bill in full
,” Jamie blurted. The pitch of her voice was escalating with every word. “
And guess what, he paid off the rest of the balance for Jackson's last bill, too. Can you believe it?!
”

“Wait, what?” My heart skipped, but an explosion of warmth unfurled in my chest. “I don't – I don't understand –”

“I don't know why he did it, either. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it myself. But he did tell me not to post anything about it online, which is weird, but I guess I can't – wait, hold on. Yeah? Okay, I gotta go, Dr. Wang needs to see me right now. Talk to you later.
”

“Wait, but –”

Two beeps sounded in my ear, signaling the end of the call.

Chapter Nine:
Kingsley

“I'm whoopin' your ass like a little bitch!” I leaned forward with my Xbox controller in my hands. I thunder-burped as I leaned closer to the TV, mashing my favorite combo buttons. “Hadouken, motherfucker!”

“Ah, son of a bitch.”

Dhalsim toppled back to the ground. The fiery letters, “K.O.,” flashed across the screen as Ryu held up his fist in victory. Louie groaned like the sore loser that he was. He tossed his controller aside, hitting Odell on the side of the head.

I grabbed my beer on the coffee table, chugging back the rest before crushing the can in my fist.

“Watch it, boy, or I'ma knock you out for real,” Odel snapped at Louie, rubbing the side of his head.

“Not my fault your head's so damn big,” Louie shot back, smirking.

“Alright, Odell, you're up.”

“Naw, man, I think I'm gonna head home for the night,” said Odell, rising up from the sofa. “The game's at 1 tomorrow, and I'm trying to get at least 9 hours in. ”

“Same here.” Louie got up from the sofa and started putting his coat back on.

“Yeah, alright guys.” I stirred, the floor spinning as I heaved myself to my feet. I walked them to the front door. “Night.”

“Take it easy on the beer, brother.” Odell gripped the side of the door, looking me square in the eye. “Don't be late – I don't mean to rag on you, but you're one small fuck-up away from suspension. Remember that.”

“We're just looking out for you,” Louie chimed in.

“I hear ya. Peace.”

I shut the front door and headed back to the couch. They were probably right. My pounding head felt like it was being drilled into, and all I could smell was the liquor on my breath. Regardless of the reasonable advice, I staggered back to the kitchen for another beer. As I poured myself another glass from the tap, there was a sharp knock on the door.

“Forget something?” I lumbered back to the foyer and unlocked the door for a second time. “You –”

Carrie was standing in the doorway, gripping the strap of her purse stiffly.

“Carrie? What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” Carrie asked, her voice slightly wavering.

“Sure.”

I stepped aside and let her through, closing the door behind her. Carrie gazed around her gingerly as I led her into the living room. I set my beer down and cleared away the empty pizza boxes and popcorn bowl on the coffee table.

“Make yourself at home.”

When I hobbled back to the living room, I snagged my toe under the Chillida rug. Carrie threw out her hands and caught me by the shoulders, steadying me to my feet. I gave her a thumbs up and fell back on the sofa.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Just a little,” I answered vaguely, hiccuping.

Carrie took a seat on the far end of the sofa. She was doing everything she could to make herself uncomfortable. Her rigid spine was 3 inches away from the back of the sofa, and half her ass was off the chair. She smoothed her hair and placed her hands over her knees.

“So, Jamie called today, and she told me what you did.”

“What – what'd I do?”

“Thank you. I appreciate what you did, but you really didn't have to do that.” Carrie ran her tongue over her lips. “I don't mean to sound blunt, here, but we don't need your charity. I'm good for it, all $6,219, plus interest, if you just give me a few months –”

“Forget it. It's done with –”

“Forget it?” Carrie repeated, shaking her head. “That's more than I paid for my car. I can't just –”

“I'm not doing it for you,” I cut her off. “I did it for Jackson. And I'm gonna keep paying off Jackson's bills whether you like it or not. If you want to pay me back, start saving for college now.”

“I don't –” Carrie paused mid-sentence, scowling at me as I reached for my beer. “Are you seriously going to drink that? Don't you have a game tomorrow? What about hangovers –”

“As much as you sound like her, you're not my mother, so...” I finished my thought by taking a huge gulp of my beer.

“Typical.” Carrie swung around in her seat to face me, tucking her legs under her. “This is unbelievable – it just boggles my mind how people who everything take what they have for granted so easily. Are you trying to get yourself suspended?”

With my head now throbbing at full throttle, something in me snapped.

“First of all, you're in my house, so don't tell me what to do.” My drowsy eyelids sagged shut, and I kept it that way. Before I could reel it back, it all came spilling out of my mouth like a loose sphincter.

“I'm so –”

“You remember the semifinals against Kansas City in 2012?”

“I remember hearing about it, I think. Didn't your team lose?”

“Yeah, we did, and it was all on me.”

“What? Aren't sports a team effort sort of deal –” Carrie tilted her head, looking confused.

“No. I mean, I threw the game,” I made myself clear.

“What do you mean by that?” Carrie tightened her lips, looking like she knew exactly what I meant.

“The game was fixed. It was my second season in. I was approached by 2 of some of the most notorious mob bosses in the state. They presented me with a prop – a proposition I couldn't turn down – let's just say it was in the 7 figures... I took it. I 'tripped' and missed an easy pass that would have taken us all the way to the finals.”

Carrie just looked at me with an inscrutable look on her face.

“When these kids come up to me, calling me a hero... It's fucked up. They're looking up to a fraud. So I'm not gonna sit here and lie to you. There's a part of me that wants to get suspended, ruin my career, just get this over with. The guilt's gonna consume me sooner or later. Why not – why not sooner?”

I lifted my beer to finish it off, but Carrie reached for my beer, gently prying it out of my grasp.

“I think you've had a little too much to drink.”

Carrie's tone was soft, losing all its bite. She leaned towards me, her chin just inches from my nose as she pulled a piece of popcorn out of my hair. The feminine tang of the perfume on her neck drifted up my nostrils.

Her green eyes synced with mine. My eyes swiveled to her thick, naturally pink lips. They parted slowly, almost as if they were daring me to kiss them.

So I did. I cocked my head to the side and pressed my lips to hers. Her pretty mouth was just as soft as I'd imagined it to be. I wrapped my lips over her upper lip before dragging it over to her bottom lip. But Carrie wasn't moving a muscle. And when I felt the movement between my legs, I caught myself, pulling away from her.

A bead of sweat escaped my hairline and settled on my brow.