Page 109 of Bad Teammate
“Don’t worry about it,” Derek said. “Right now, just worry about taking care of yourself.”
The men separated.
“Okay, guys, let’s go,” Derek said as he hurried to the door. “We gotta talk to Mr. Bowfield.”
39
Derek
I slammed and locked the door shut behind me, and the three of us ran down the hallway. I tried calling Mr. Bowfield while we waited for the elevator, but he didn’t answer—he was probably juggling several trade calls at that very moment.
Damn it, pick up!
We sprinted through the parking garage and hopped into my BMW. I fired up the engine and threw it in reverse, tires chirping as we peeled out of the garage and whipped down the street. I didn’t dare look at the dashboard clock—I knew damn well we weren’t going to make it in time. But the last thing I needed right now was to have the wind sucked out of my sails.
I tried calling again.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “He’s not answering.”
“Give me your phone,” Katerina said. “You drive, I’ll keep calling.”
I handed my phone over and focused on driving. Traffic was heavy—it was lunch hour in downtown Dallas, after all. I weaved through stop-and-go traffic, doing my best to gain every precious second as we headed for the freeway.
We got caught at another red light.My fingers nervously drummed on the steering wheel. Still, I refused to look at the clock.
Come on, come on!
The light turned green. I stomped on the gas and we took a hard left, tires screeching, to get onto the freeway. I floored it and the BMW roared as it raced up to speed.
“Daaaa!”Sasha shouted fromthe back seat. I glanced in the rearview mirror—he was sitting in the middle of the bench seat, fist pumping in the air and banging his head like he we were at a rock concert. He was loving this.
“That brother of yours,” I grumbled. “He’s really something.”
“Right?” Katerina snickered. “He’s always been like this—a giant child.” She sighed. “For better or worse.”
I reached across the center console, clasping Katerina’s hand in mine.
“I hope he can do this,” I said. “Whether or not he gets traded. I hope he can get sober.”
She looked at me and smiled. “That’s why I love you.”
“Why?”
“You have every reason to hate him right now, but you don’t.” She squeezed my hand. “You reallycare.”
“Let’s not go crazy,” I said with an ornery smile. “I’m not sure how I’d feel about him right now if he weren’t related to you.”
“Honestly? Me neither,” she said, stifling a laugh. “But please don’t tell him that.”
“Don’t worry, Ican’t.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “That’s something else we’ll have to get him to work on.”
I pulled off the freeway and onto Victory Avenue. I floored it again, passing every car I could until the arena came into view. We sped through the staff entrance and into the players’ parking garage. The tires squealed as we slammed to a stop.
“Hurry, let’s go!”
***
