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Her eyes are wide, pupils blown as they meet mine, and I give her a small smile, pushing past every emotion I’m feeling because I know my internal response to this situation would have her bolting out of here.Thank fuck for Adhira.
My gaze flicks to the screen for a moment. “Wow, you’ve won a lot of money, huh, princess?” I ask, keeping my voice light.
Her brows pinch, sending another wave of anxiety straight to my gut, but her expression smooths, and she gives me a bright smile. “I did! I’ve got to keep going,” she says, turning back to hit the button in front of her. I snatch her wrist, and she opens her mouth to protest, her eyes crinkling at the sides, and her lips pull tight. I improvise, bringing her hand to my mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.
This is so fucking inappropriate.
Yeah, well, so is threatening to drug test your coach’s daughter based on a poor assumption and a massive chip on your shoulder. I’ll be dealing with those consequences a lotlonger than I will this one, so I stand, hoping I’ve distracted her enough to pull her away from the machine. Her eyes dilate, and she sucks her plump bottom lip into her mouth.
“Come on, sweetheart, I’m gonna take you somewhere fun,” I whisper into her ear, dragging her alongside me and out of the casino to where taxis line the front of the building.
Those big blue eyes of hers are darting around as she lets me guide her outside. It’s almost like she can’t focus on any one thing, as if there’s nothing tethering her to reality right now, and it breaks something deep inside me to see her like this.
Goosebumps scatter across her arms at the chill in the air as wind whips past us. I usher her into the back of the taxicab, waiting until she’s slid all the way in before I tell the taxi where to take us.
I hope she’s not too upset about all the money she just left there.
I continue pacing the hall outside of Elise's room. The sound of my trainers squeaking bounces off the linoleum floors and white walls, a harsh, cold reminder of the last time I was in a hospital.
The sound grates on my nerves, but I'm unable to stand still, walking from one end to the next and back. Over and overagain, my heart battering against my ribcage as I wait for Coach to come out and give me an update. Kick me out.Kick me off the team. Anything would be better than the incessant worry clawing at my throat.
Anxiety thrums in my gut, churning with newly found remorse.
“Rafa,” Coach’s smooth, deep voice cuts through the rhythmic beating of the monitors in the rooms along this hallway.
My head snaps to him, blood rushing behind my eardrums. “Is she okay?” I ask, my tone thick like my tongue feels.
He nods, not speaking as he closes the door to her room with a gentlesnick.“Come on, follow me to the cafeteria. I need a cuppa.”
I walk aimlessly behind him, nerves coursing through my blood. My heart and mind feel heavy, like a thick layer of fog has settled over me. Memories of that day.Of my mistakes.They flood me, one after the other, rushing through me, gripping me by the throat and refusing to let go.
Coach claps a hand on my shoulder, levelling me with an earnest expression. “This isnotyour fault. I can only imagine what's going through your head right now, all things considered with what happened to your brother. But I'll tell you now what I told you after you'd confided in me about Carlos because it isstilltrue, Rafa. Elise is an adult. She made her own decisions. Nothing thatyoudid or said could have driven her to make those choices.”
I try to cut him off. “But if I hadn't confronted her like?—”
“Stop,” he says, his tone terse and no-nonsense. “She should have told you what the medication was for. She could have handled that situation a hundred different ways, butshechose to stop taking her medications, not you. That isnotyour fault and not your responsibility.”
I want to hear him. Iwantto believe him, but just like with Carlos, it all feels like it's just that.
My fault.
“I just—” I clear my throat. “I feel like I'm always bringing horrible shit to everyone's doorstep. Like I'm some harbinger for bad situations.”
“And has Carlos ever told you as much?” he asks, pressing the button for the basement as we step into the elevator.
“Never.”
“Well, here's a thought. Maybe you should startlisteningto him. I know it’s hard to do with that thick skull of yours, but you should give it a go,”he teases.The doors open, and my shoulders feel a little less tense, but then we get to the cafeteria, and all the anxiety is back with a vengeance.
“Who the bloody fuck thought it was a good idea to put the cafeteria next to themorgue?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
SUNDAY, APRIL 13
I blink rapidlyinto the pitch-black room, trying to get my bearings. I smack the nightstand beside me in search of my lamp, flicking it on when I feel the cool porcelain base beneath my fingertips. I have no idea what time it is when I finally open my eyes, but it must be late judging by how dark my room is.
I’ve had a day or so to come to terms with my actions and apologise to everyone involved. Everyone other than Rafael, anyway.