Page 44 of Force Play

“She was mountain biking and—”

“A squirrel ran out in front of me. I ended up in one tree and my bike ended up in another,” she cuts in.

“And she hit her head,” I interject.

“My visor broke when I hit the ground. He’s making a bigger deal out of this than necessary. It’s feeding the hero complex that goes along with his Flynn Rider haircut.” The exasperation in her tired voice is reassuring. She can’t be too badly hurt if she’s still fighting with me.

“Maybe we let the medical professional do his job.” I tilt my head to Grant.

“Fine,” Indie gives in, arms crossing over her chest and laying back on the table.

While Grant does his thing, I grab a towel and run it under some water. Stepping up to the other side of the table I gently run it over her arms. Each scuff and scratch I uncover only makes me want to pull her into my arms, and take her home where I can lock her away and take care of her.

When this is all over, we are going to have a little chat about what the hell had her thinking it was a smart idea to be out on that trail alone.

Lifting her hand in mine I wipe the dirt and pebbles off. The vibrations that come from the watch take me by surprise.

“Shit, that’s probably my dad.” Her eyes drop to where our hands are connected. “Well, either answer it or give me my hand back.”

Pressing the green button I keep working, treating each finger with the same care.

“Hey, Dad.”

“I’m an old man, Indie. You can’t keep testing my heart like this and then not call with an update.” Her dad’s voice is filled with fatherly concern for his daughter.

“Sorry.” It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her sound so vulnerable, and part of me knows I should give her space for this conversation, but there’s no way in hell I’m leaving her side until I know she’s okay. “I’m getting checked out now.”

“Do they know about the squirrel nonsense? Make sure they check your head. You know what, put me on speaker so they can hear me.”

“You’re already on speaker, it’s a watch, Dad. And why does no one believe me about the squirrel?”

“Hey, sir. My name is Dom. I’m one of Indie’s friends. We’re getting her checked out right now.” I lower my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “We know about the squirrel.” Building slowly it starts with rolling her lips together, and then spreads to the corners of her mouth before I finally get what I’m working for—a stunning smile, followed immediately by Indie’s fist connecting with my bicep.

“I showed you the acorn. You said you believed me.”

Grant shoots me a questioning look and I duck my head in a quick nod.

“Nice to meet you, Dom. Are you going to stay with her until she’s cleared?”

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving her side.” If only he knew how true that statement is.

“Good,” he says, pausing before he addresses his daughter again. “You and I aren’t done talking. I want to hear about your meeting and your check-up today. Was everything okay?”

“Yeah, Dad, we’ll talk later.” She sucks in a sharp breath when Grant manipulates her foot. Which is now bare, and it looks even worse, the swelling and bruising extending to her toes.

“Without doing imaging, I can’t say for sure, but based on what I’m seeing, it’s probably a severe sprain. You should still go get it looked at,” he cautions, moving on to her head, asking questions and checking her eyes. “You’re going to need to stay off of it for at least a few weeks. Limit weight bearing activity as much as possible. Definitely no riding or any other high-impact activities. I’m not seeing any signs of a head injury, but someone should keep an eye on you.”

“She’s going to hang out here during the game.” I look at Grant. Who nods. “Unless you’d prefer I see if I can get you in a box. I’m sure Lilah would join you.”

“Here is fine. I’m not sure I’m up for much else.” Peace of mind that she’s going to be close by isn’t enough to dull the sadness I’m feeling for her. She’s the picture of defeat, her shoulders sagging and her eyes on her ankle. It’s a look I’ve never seen her wear.

“Can I get you anything before I get ready for warm-ups? Grant, can you grab her some ibuprofen?”

He comes back with water for her to take the pills and wraps her ankle. “I’m going to set her up in the dark room. Can you check on her every so often? If she’s feeling up to it later she can watch the game in the media room.”

“What is the dark room?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.” Scooping her up from the table, I’m relieved when she doesn’t fight me. We pass Xavier in the hallway, and he gives me a questioning look. But he’s smart enough to not say anything, for now. I’m sure it’s coming. “We use it to rest before games or between practices, but tonight it’s all yours. No one will bother you here. And Grant can help you if you need anything between innings.” Lowering her to one of the couches, I prop her leg with a pillow and grab her a blanket.

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