Page 86 of Scoring the Player
“I didn’t realize your sister was in Brooklyn.”
“My mom and Carter are in New Jersey, but she moved here a couple years ago.”
He calls his dad by his first name? “Here. Plug in the full address.”
“Thanks,”he says, unbuckling his seat belt when we arrive. “Sorry we couldn’t…you know.”
“I really don’t mind waiting downstairs and driving you both to the hospital,” I offer again.
He pauses, hand on the door handle. “Maybe. It might be better for her than a random driver. Let me ask her.”
“Go.” I cut off the ignition. “I’ll be here.”
“Thanks.
He speaks to the doorman and then disappears past the glass doors.
CHAPTER 20
ARNAZ
“Disquiet”
Can you hear the chorale of screams?
Born into grief from broken dreams.
“Thanks, Aaron.”
“You bet. Call downstairs if you or Ms. Cade need anything,” the doorman replies as he lets me into the condo.
“Hey,” I call out as I slip off my kicks and drop my bag.
I follow the only light, which is coming from her room. The place is silent except for the sound of my socks sweeping the floor.
I slow down in the doorway of her bedroom, transitioning to a tiptoe. I kneel and sweep the curls from her face. She’s out cold. I rub my thumb over the wet circles on her pillow, tracking back to the dried tears streaking her face.
Ignoring the burn in my eyes, I gently cover her with her comforter.
Fifteen years of this shit.
Life’s cruel.
I consider waking her, but it’s always the same thing at the ER. We wait for hours only to be sent home with 800mg of ibuprofen. Which, if I had to guess—I lift the open prescription bottle on the nightstand—she already took. The only real solution is the surgery she has scheduled, and even that isn’t a full cure. But it gives her the chance of a life with less pain, and that’s more than enough reason for her to try.
A tail of soft fur brushes against my leg.
“Hello, Alfie.” I pluck up the tawny, black, and white cat, kissing him on his fluffy head as he nestles into my arms.
I anchor him in one hand while I shrug off my coat to leave on her door handle, so she’ll know I’m here if she wakes up.
Salem
“What’s her name?” I ask, bending down to pet the black pit bull who wandered over to sniff my leg.
“Sodapop,” the man replies.
“FromThe Outsiders?”
