Page 6 of His Last Shot
None of this matters, though, if she’s taken. “Fellas, look, I don’t even know her. And besides, her boyfriend might not like it.”
Not ashamed to admit I am fishing for information here.
All three of them burst out into laughter. “Boyfriend? You mean Micah?” Slick asks through his howling while pointing to the kitchen. “Relax, man. That’s her brother.”
Oh. Well, that explains it.Relief fills my chest.
I wave my hand over the three men who seem very invested in Rachel with the obvious familiarity I picked up on. “Are you guys related to her as well?”
“Nah,” Randy answers. “Just regulars who look out for her and Micah.”
That’s … considerate.
Randy and Tiny turn to Slick. “We’re gonna take off. You staying?” Slick nods.
I watch Randy and Tiny leave out the front door when suddenly, my bladder is screaming at me.
After I take care of business and walk out of the restroom, Micah’s behind the bar again, talking to Slick. Rachel is nowhere in sight. Their conversation hits me as I walk past.
“So, Rachel’s RA has been acting up again, huh?” Slick asks Micah.
“Yeah.” Micah returns. “Not as much as last time, which is good. We are going to see a new rheumatologist next week, though, at the Cleveland Clinic. Hopefully, they can help her more than the quacks around here.”
Slick hums. “I sure hope so. She doesn’t need to be in that much pain all the time. I hate seeing it. You can tell it’s bothering her tonight.”
With my head down, I walk back over to the tables, leaving what is an obvious private conversation in the rear-view mirror. Rachel emerges from the kitchen and immediately zeros in on where I was sitting. Her shoulders deflate, but then she scans the bar. Our eyes lock, and a small smile forms on her lips.
Not quite prepared to call it a night, I rack the balls, ready to get some practice in, but curiosity gets the better of me. I pull out my phone, and GoogleWhat is RA?
Two words stare back at me. Rheumatoid Arthritis.
Empathy rolls over my body as I look over at the bar to find her again. She’s attempting to reach for a bottle of booze from the top shelf. She winces. Slick notices, rounds the bar, and retrieves the bottle. As she thanks him, she rubs her elbow, pain etched on her beautiful face.
I click on the first article from the Mayo Clinic and read.
Rheumatoid Arthritis is an autoimmune disease, meaning the body's immune system, which normally protects against foreign invaders, turns against its own tissues. Common symptoms of the disease include joint pain, swelling, stiffness, and fatigue. If left untreated, RA can cause significant joint damage and deformity, leading to bone erosion and spurs. While there is no cure for RA, treatments can help manage symptoms and slow down the progression of the disease.
Shock courses through me.What? She has this? How is that possible?
Isn’t arthritis a disease a person gets in old age? I mean, I’m pretty sure I have it in my knees. But Rachel looks to be in her thirties or late twenties.
Another quick glimpse, and her distinctive, almost swaying gait is unmistakable even as she focuses on a customer.
It all makes sense now.
My heart swells with compassion, and a need to know everything about this woman consumes me.
Sliding my phone into my pocket, I focus on breaking the balls. With a scrape of chalk on cue, they scatter across the table, the clatter a sharp contrast to the quiet determination in my heart because I’m not leaving until I talk to her again.
Tonight.
2
Closing Time
Rachel
With rapt attention, I watch as this newbie, who is the tallest drink of water I have ever seen, leans over the pool table to take his shot. His shirt stretches across his broad back, his triceps flex with the sway of his arm. His butt is just … right there.
