Chapter one
Maverick
Hospitals are hell. They’re too bright, too loud, and too full of desperation with a sprinkling of hope.
Two emotions that never mix well.
I don’t fucking want to be here. I don’t want to put on a fake smile and try to be all motivational and shit for these kids. Hell, no one should be motivated by me at the best of times, much less right now. I don’t want to be surrounded by people looking at me with stars in their eyes, thinking I’m some amazing person.
I don’t want to be surrounded by people, period.
I want to be at home, in the dark, by myself. My ribs hurt, my collarbone hurts, andI don’t fucking want to be here.
When my brother who is also my agent told me to show up at the children’s hospital this morning to sign some merch and take photos, I laughed at him. But Colin just ignored me, pointing out the fact that I don’t have the luxury of saying no right now. I gotta kiss some ass and do whatever the fuck the team asks me to do while I’m on the injured list to try and save face. So here I am. Even if I’m not the player they usually ask to come to the children’s hospital. Ever since my accident fourweeks ago, all bets are off. I’m at the mercy of my agent and the media relations people from the Vancouver Tridents who are trying to salvage what’s left of my image. They say jump, I say how high.
Some teenage-looking kid walks up to me with a bald head and tubes poking out of his shirt. “When you gonna be back on the field?” he asks, getting straight to it.
I shift on my feet, wishing like hell I could answer him. But fuck if I know. Doc said eight to ten weeks, if I rehab properly. It’s already been four weeks and I’m going fucking crazy.
“Dunno,” I answer curtly. Then in my head, I hear the voice of Willow Lawson, director of the media relations team, chastising me and reminding me to put on my game face. There’s not a lot of people that could get away with that kind of shit, but Willow’s good people. So I give what I hope is a convincing smile. “Gotta take care of my body, y’know?”
“Why did you crash that car, anyway?”
You think I fucking did that on purpose?But I don’t say that. Willow should be proud. All that goddamn media training she forces on us might be paying off.
“I made a mistake. Everyone does sometimes, just gotta do better next time.” There. That’s a good bullshit answer. But the kid isn’t buying it.
“My dad said it was an illegal street race.”
Swear to fucking God, if this kid wasn’t fighting cancer, I’d walk away right now. Last thing I need is some punk-ass kid coming here and telling me everything I already know about my most recent fuckup. I normally like kids. But right now, the lack of filter is not working for me.
My phone starts to vibrate, saving me from responding. Looking at it, I see my brother’s name. “Sorry kid, gotta go. My agent’s calling.”
I stride away from him without a backward look, seeking out a stairwell where maybe I can get some privacy to listen to Colin yell at me some more. At least I’m guessing that’s why he’s calling when he knows I’m in the middle of this community service shit.
“What?”
“Nice to talk to you, too, brother. Me? Oh, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” Colin’s sarcasm has me rolling my eyes as I lean against the concrete wall of the stairwell.
“Fuck off. You know I’m busy.”
Maybe other players wouldn’t talk to their agents like that, but for me and Col, it’s different. As my agent, he doesn’t always have to put up with my shit, but he does. That’s because, as the closest thing to a brother I’ll ever have, heunderstandsmy shit. More than anyone.
“You’re done for today. Head home.” His tone is sober, no trace of sarcasm remaining. That alone means I’m not gonna like what he’s about to say. “Hydroboost is pulling your deal.”
“What?” I growl, pushing off from the wall. I pace the length of the landing as I let that news sink in. “What do you mean they’re pulling it?”
“I mean they don’t want their brand associated with an asshole who participates in alleged street races and crashes cars,” Colin fires back.
“No one has proof it was a race.”
“Not the point, brother, and you know it.”
I rip my Tridents hat off my head and chuck it to the ground, raking my fingers through my hair as I continue to pace. “For fuck’s sake. I had to do it, Col. You know I did.”
“I know you think you had to bail him out again, but you didn’t,” he barks at me. “You got yourself in this fucking mess with your goddamn saviour complex. When are you gonna learn? Eli is never going to stop causing shit. Not while you keep enabling him. He’s on the path to self-destruction, and it’s not your responsibility to save him from it.”
I exhale a curse and stoop to pick up my hat, wincing as the move makes my ribs feel like they’re on fire.
