Page 128 of Almost Rotten

Atty waves his stick, screaming at a ref. The sight of him upright and yelling brings a wave of relief.

The scuffle also includes two guys in blue.

I scan past them quickly, looking for someone else.

I have to find him. I have to see—

When I finally spot him, dread swamps me. Shit.

Ty’s down.

Half down, more accurately. On one knee, he clutches his side, his head thrown back in pain.

Dammit. If Atty is screaming and Ty isn’t back on his feet, then the incident I missed must have been bad. Really, really, bad.

Chapter fifty-five

Tytus

The shooting, searing sensation courses up my left side, taking my breath away as it incinerates nerves and tissue. My intercostal muscles seize up and spasm with such violence I nearly collapse completely.

The shouts from guys surrounding me only addle my brain further, making it impossible to send signals to my body, to make my limbs fucking move.

I can’t get up. I can’t even inhale deeply. If I do, I’ll pass out.

“All right, man?” Atty skates in close and offers me his hand.

I don’t reach out.

I can’t.

My best friend, thank fuck, knows me well. The second we lock eyes, understanding flashes on his face.

Bending low, he catches me under my right arm and helps me to my feet. As I straighten, a soft swell of applause rises up around us.

It’s then that I remember the Galaxy reps watching tonight.

“I’m good.” I make a show of slapping Atty on the shoulder and pushing off so I can skate away on my own.

The pain in my side flares, a blistering sensation that short-circuits every nerve ending in my torso.

I ignore it. I have to.

Nicole and the Galaxy photographer are here. I’m not just in a fish bowl tonight. I’m being sliced open and surveyed under a microscope, complete with documentation.

I have to rally, to power through.

I’ve survived worse. I’ve endured more pain.

Two-a-day practices after completely sleepless nights.

Playing games with broken bones and on an empty stomach after being caged for days.

“What hurts?” Atty asks as we skate to the bench.

While he hoists himself over the side, I gingerly sidestep through the gate, gritting my teeth when I have to lift my left leg over the threshold.

Everything.