Page 13 of The Long Game

Reign it in, Tucker. You have to make the right decisions to save her life.

I position myself to start CPR.

As I lean in to begin compressions, she starts coughing. I flip her to her side. She’s not spitting up very much water. It means I got to her fast enough.

She’s going to be okay—she has to be okay.

I can't live with any other outcome.

I pick up Lexi and cradle her again, trying to settle her back into the safety of my chest. The sensation of having her head against my heart sends lightning bolts through my body. A feeling I’ve never felt before from a single innocent touch. And certainly not from Luca’s sixteen-year-old sister. But things have changed at a rapid pace over the last week or two of this lake house trip.

I’ve noticed Lexi in a way I never had before. Or maybe in a way I never allowed myself since the Benson's are like family to me.

I see Luca sprinting full speed towards us as I head straight for the driveway from the beach.

"Pull the truck around!" I yell at him. He starts running for my truck.

"You’re going to be okay, Lexi. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. Just stay with me. I can’t lose you now."

She moans into my shoulder and her eyes flicker open for a brief second and then close.

"My head," she groans.

Relief settles when I hear her voice. It’s the first indicator that maybe we’re going to walk away from this.

As a football player, I’ve seen enough concussions to know what I need to do—keep her talking.

Luca speeds up to the closest spot he can get to us on the gravel driveway. He screeches to a stop, throwing my white four-seater Tacoma in park. He jumps out of the truck, rushing to help me open the door.

"What happened out there?" he says in a rush, his eyes wide with fear.

"She was getting out. She hit her head on the stairs," I tell him quickly as I slide into the back seat.

He helps me in, making a quick sweep on Lexi himself. As soon as he has us stowed in the back, he slams the door and launches himself back into the driver side.

The truck's speedometer creeps up past 90 as Luca races to the hospital, tires squealing against asphalt. I cradled Lexi's head, watching her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, terrified of what the future holds if we don't get her to a doctor soon enough. Blood soaks through a clean practice jersey I had in the back of my truck as I press the fabric against her wound.

Every bump in the road sends a jolt of panic through me—what if the movement makes her injury worse? What if we don't make it in time? The fifteen-minute drive to the hospital felt like hours as I whisper desperate pleas for her to hold on. Luca and I have gotten ourselves in some scrapes over the years. But this one? This is so much worse.

"Lex, what hurts?" I ask.

She moans softly in pain as if she's not completely awake.

"Lexi, talk to me," I instruct. "You have to keep talking to me. You can’t fall asleep. I know you’re tired, but you have to stay awake, okay?" I plead with her.

"My head hurts." She winces as she finally answers me.

She tries to reach for the gash but my hand and the jersey block her connection.

"Just your head?" I ask in an attempt to keep the conversation going.

"Is she awake?" Luca asks, straining to see Lexi through the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, she’s awake — says her head hurts."

"Lexi, stay awake. You can’t fall asleep, sis."

I can hear the concern in his voice. He's worried though he's trying to keep it together since he needs to get us there in one piece.

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