“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m a damn saint. Now let’s get this over with before I get a cramp just stepping inside that dreaded building of exercise.”

It didn’t take them long to find Coach Whitely’s office in the sports complex, but a crabby secretary made them sit in the outer office for a good half hour before she let them in. And even then, he was talking on the phone so they had to wait another ten minutes, sneaking bored faces at each other until he hung up.

“What’s up?” he asked as soon as he disconnected, his tone harried to let them know he didn’t want his time wasted. He opened a notebook on his desk and began to leaf through it, not even glancing Tess and Bailey’s way.

Tess licked her lips and sat forward. “Jonah Abbott is still in the hospital from the school shooting, and I was wondering if you could take the time to visit—” he looked up at those words, his eyebrow arched, and she gulped and more hesitantly finished “—him.”

With an irritated sigh, he closed his notebook. “Let me get this straight. You want to me drop everything to go see some sick kid?”

His smug, arrogant attitude made Tess bristle, but it made Bailey snort. “Oh, whatever. It’s not even football season. How busy can you be?”

Coach Whitely seared Bailey with a narrow-eyed glare. “Little girl, this team lost three of its best players. So, yes, I have been that busy, trying to figure out a new lineup for next year while I’m setting up memorials for the ones I lost. Too busy to worry about the ones who’re doing just fine.”

“But he’s not just fine,” Tess jumped in, leaning forward in her seat even more. “Sir, he may never walk again.”

That seemed to get the man’s attention. “Who’re we’re talking about again?”

“Jonah,” she said. “Jonah Abbott. He’s a first string tight end and just beat the state record for—”

He held up a hand to stop her. “Yeah, yeah. I know who Abbott is.” Eyebrows furrowing, he muttered, “Well, that’s a damn shame.” Blowing out a long, harassed breath, he shook his head sadly. “That one might’ve actually made pro, too. He was a good player. Yet, as I recall, none of his teammates were very fond of him. Not very personable, if you know what I mean.”

Actually, Tess had no idea what he meant. Jonah seemed plenty personable to her. To her, he seemed amazing.

She wrinkled her nose. “How does his personality matter? He’s one of your players. You should feel some kind of responsibility toward him. He’s in room three-twelve at Granton Regional. And he needs someone to visit him. Badly.”

The coach merely sniffed. It was more than obvious he didn’t like being told what he should and shouldn’t do. “As I see it, if he can’t walk, he can’t play. So, that makes him not one of my players, now doesn’t it? If you ask me, some people get what they deserve.”

Tess’s mouth fell open as he turned away. What a total bastard.

“What the hell does that mean?” she demanded. Her own voice kind of startled her. She’d never spoken so rudely to someone in authority. “How can you be such a pompous, self-serving son of a—”

Bailey slapped a hand over her mouth before she could say anything else. Smiling stiffly at the douchebag coach, she pulled Tess up to her feet, even as she firmly kept her quiet.

“Thank you for your time, sir. We’ll be on our way now.”

She didn’t release Tess’s mouth as she dragged her backward toward the door. Wanting him to know clearly what she thought of him, she lifted her hand, showing him the new sparkling red polish on her middle finger. His eyes narrowed as Bailey shoved Tess into the hall and slammed the door.

Tess scowled and pushed away from her. “What did you do that for?”

Folding her arms over her chest, Bailey answered, “You’re welcome.”

“For what? I was just getting started.”

“Oh my God. Who are you? You were just about to get us both in trouble. I saved your butt.”

“Whatever. That jackass was a complete moron who doesn’t know an amazing guy when—”

“Shh.” Bailey tapped her lips to hush her. “Something fishy is going on here. No one’s visited your boyfriend since he’s been in that hospital, and the people you tell he’s there don’t give a shit. What do you think that means?”

“That the world is full of some truly crappy, insensitive people?”

She opened her mouth to rage on, but Bailey glanced at a picture on the wall and hurried to it, ignoring her. She scanned the four-foot panoramic picture of the entire football team until she murmured, “There.” Pointing, she pressed her finger against the chest of one, specific player. “Is that him? Is that your Jo

nah?”

Squinting, Tess leaned forward until she was staring at a mini-portrait of her fake boyfriend. “Oh my God. How did you…?” She turned slowly to stare at Bailey with wide eyes. “Who is he?” she whispered. Dread chilled her skin.

“That right there is the head bully, the one who always led the race when people were chasing Einstein down the halls. He’s the one Paige took to the ground with a single twist of his finger the night you got plastered.”