Page 44 of A Surefire Love
His jaw shifted. “I was the team captain, and you reeked of alcohol. I couldn’t get in the middle of a situation like that.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why? Giving me a ride would not have gotten you in trouble.”
“Probably.” He shook his head. “As a kid, that didn’t occur to me. But I’ve always been against drinking, so I wasn’t going to make your choices easier on you.”
A harsh laugh rose, and she didn’t suppress it. “You wanted me to learn from the consequences, huh?”
He barely nodded as though concerned about where this was headed.
“A friend poured a beer on me because I was trying to get her to stop drinking.” Saying the words felt like lugging a heavy suitcase onto the table. At least she wasn’t carrying them anymore, but the consequences still had to be unpacked.
“Oh.” He rubbed his mouth and dropped his gaze.
“After you refused to help me, I had to walk in the sleet with just a jean jacket to keep me warm. Guess what happened on the way home.”
His eyes cut back to her. “What?”
“Some older man—thirties or forties?—circled past a few times, then stopped and told me to get in. When I didn’t, he followed me until I hid in someone’s bushes.” On occasion, the stranger still rolled through her nightmares, ever pursuing her.
Anson grimaced. “I’m sorry, Blaze.” The sincerity in his voice crashed through her memories and brought her back, safe and sound, to the present. “I made a bad call. I should’ve helped.”
The grudge lifted. She squirmed. She hadn’t realized how defenseless she’d be without it. “We were kids. You maybe even more so than me.”
“What’s that mean?”
“As we’ve established, I’ve been taking care of myself from a pretty young age.”
He leaned back in his seat and lifted an eyebrow. “And my life has been all roses?”
“I’m sure losing Coach Voss was traumatic.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” If it weren’t for the quiet way he spoke, as though more to himself than to her, she wouldn’t believe him.
“So tell me.”
“You tell me the story of your nickname, and I’ll tell you a story about me.”
This was becoming a habit, him changing the subject away from himself. “I already told a story. It’s your turn.”
The tendons at the corner of his jaw flexed. “All right. One story, but don’t believe this is the only one I have.”
He had the perfect parents. Excellent grades. Athletic ability. And now the exact jobs he’d set out to land. Not exactly a life of difficulty.
“We lost a game we should’ve won.” His voice slowed and deepened. “Piers Overton refused to pass a few times, and most of us blamed him for the loss. On the bus ride home, Nolan got into it with him.”
“Nolan?” The friendly, happy-go-lucky Rooted leader? “I forgot he’s a Lion too.”
Anson’s hand curled into a fist on the table, then relaxed. “He and Piers started shoving each other, so Coach moved to the back to break up the fight. Minutes later, a semi blew through a stop sign into the side of the bus. One second, everything was normal. The next, we were thrown into seats, walls, windows, equipment. Two or three seconds of chaos changed everything.” He massaged his shoulder.
“The bus landed on its side. My arm was just hanging there. I’d never had a dislocated shoulder before. Didn’t know it could be fixed. Honestly thought my basketball career was over. But survival was the important thing. The other guys—everyone was bleeding. A couple of them confused words or couldn’t see straight. Gray couldn’t walk. Sam’s arm was …” Anson blew out a breath. “… visibly broken.”
A staff member started flipping up chairs on the far side of the room. Anson stared in that direction, but his eyes were still, not following the movement. “Working together to get everyone out kept us busy until first responders arrived. Then I realized how much worse the back of the bus was. Ambulances started taking us to the hospital immediately. Word didn’t reach me that Coach had died at the scene until an hour later. I … was more upset about that than I’d been about my arm.”
Lines etched his face, and she wondered how that moment had played out. Who’d been there to comfort him? And should she reach out now?
Probably not. She intertwined her fingers. “He meant a lot to you?”
“He was like a second father. Losing family is never easy.”
