Page 120 of Play Me
THIRTY
Gray
“Sir, you can go back to Ms. Winter’s room,” the lady perched behind the reception desk says.
I stand, wiping my hands down my jeans, and nod. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Have a good day.”
I put one foot in front of the other and follow the signs to Room 656. Each step gets harder, and every breath is more difficult. I may as well have been tackled on the pitch because every muscle in my body aches.I might die here, and no one will know where to look for me.
Until I walked inside the building, I was certain that I had to do this. Moving on with Astrid meant finding closure for the sins of my past. If not, I’d carry this weight into our relationship and that would be the epitome of ruining her. I won’t ruin anyone else except maybe myself.
I take a deep breath and blow it out. Shoving all thoughts of Astrid out of my mind, I knock on the door to Room 656.
“Come in,” Liza’s voice calls out.
God, please be with me.I tap the handle and let myself in.
Liza looks up from a book and smiles as if she expects me to be a staff person. But when her eyes land on mine, everything changes. “Oh, Gray.”
“Hey.”
She drops the book, tears streaming down her face, and sobs into her hands.
My heart breaks, knowing I did this—that I’m responsible for this woman’s agony all this time later. I sit on the edge of the bed and wrap my arm around her, pulling her into my shoulder. Her dark hair bounces as she cries. It’s the same color as Caroline’s. I freeze, staring at the black strands, and feel my heart go from breaking to shattering.
I shouldn’t be here.Why did I do this?
You’re a fucking fool, Adler.
Liza pulls back, her cheeks streaked with mascara. She wipes her face with the backs of her hands and looks at me like I’m an apparition. I wish that were true. I’d happily disappear from this room and never come back.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she says, reaching for a tissue.
“That makes two of us.”
She chuckles sadly, drying her face. She looks older than I remember. There are scars down her arms and one on the top of her forehead. I can only imagine the others on her back and stomach … and on her soul.
The worst scars are always hidden.
“How are you?” she asks softly. “Are you okay? You look great.”
I lick my lips and look at the ceiling as shame and guilt threaten to knock me off the damn bed. It’s not fair that I’m here andlooking great, when Liza is sitting in a rehab bed after her God knows how many surgeries and Caroline is in a wooden box six feet below the ground. I’d love for someone to explain that bullshit.
“If it makes a difference, I want you to be great,” she whispers.
Hot liquid pools in the corners of my eyes and I blink as furiously as I can. I don’t risk looking at her. I don’t even try to speak. I stare at the wall like a fucking pussy and try not to cry.
“The accident wasn’t your fault, and I hope you know that, Gray. We had no business coming to Denver and you told us as much. But Caroline was too hardheaded to listen and …” Her shoulders rise and fall. “And God had another plan for my big sister.”
“Do you believe that?” I ask, pulling my gaze to hers. “Do you believe she died because God had other plans for Caroline? Or do you think that the whole thing could’ve been avoided if I had driven my ass to the airport and picked the two of you up during a fucking snowstorm? Because one of those things seems more plausible than the other.”
She shifts in her bed, wincing at the movement. “So you’ve decided that you’re smarter than God now? That wasn’t on my Bingo card for this year.”
“Liza …” I sigh, standing up. I need some space—some air. The windows never open in these places, but I stand by it and stare across the courtyard. “I’m sorry.”
“For what, Gray?”
