Page 39

CARSON

Nylah finally texted me when she got back to her dorm.

It took ages, and I was out of my fucking mind when I finally heard from her.

After a long soak in the tub, her leg is feeling better. She’s still gonna be on painkillers and will need to use her cane for the week, which I know she hates. I’m guessing she doesn’t want the attention, and I’d do anything to shield her from it.

I searched for her all day today, but I didn’t see her once.

The weather has been shit, and I wonder if she stayed indoors to avoid the rain.

Fuck, when she told me about being trapped in that car for hours, thinking she was gonna die…

I felt that shit right in my chest. First, it was this ball of rage that she had to suffer that way, and then this dull, aching pain followed.

It must have been so terrifying for her.

I can picture her, alone and scared in the dark, a storm thundering above her while she lay there in pain.

Fuck! It’s doing my head in, making it hard to concentrate.

I want to go back in time and protect her from that shit.

I hate that I can’t.

I hate that she’s stuck with a bum leg for the rest of her life because of taking a corner too fast. Less than a minute of her life… and she’ll never be the same again.

Running down the field, I avoid a tackle, jumping away from the opposing player and pivoting left so I’m perfectly positioned for Zander’s throw.

The rain is sprinkling on our practice. It’s not too heavy yet, but I can sense another stormy night. Fuck, I hope Nylah’s okay.

Blinking the drops from my eyes, I follow the arc of the ball, grabbing that slippery little sucker and pinning it to my chest as I dodge right, then jump away from another defender. I’m three steps from the end zone when I get blindsided, knocked straight off my damn feet by a missile that’s?—

Fuck, it’s Fleischer.

I growl, shoving him off me and hating that Coach put us together for this practice.

We’re ending the session with some gameplay, and of course Fleischer’s out to prove that one Saturday night brawl doesn’t make him a bad player.

He’s trying to earn his way back into Coach’s good graces while making me look like I deserve to be on a Most Wanted poster.

“Get the fuck away from me.” I push him again so I’ve got room to get back to my feet.

The rain intensifies as I flick Grady’s hand away and get up on my own.

“Okay, that was good!” Coach walks over, clapping and shouting through the rain. “Fleischer, nice tackle. Monty, you should have had Carson’s back then.”

“Sorry, Coach. Fly was too fast for me.”

“No worries, you did your best. Carson, you need to get that sixth sense of yours working.”

“Maybe the rain is dulling it.” Fleischer laughs, and I want to take my helmet off and smash him over the head with it.

“Hey, Coach! We’ve got a lightning warning!” Coach Perkins shouts from the sidelines. “Just came in. The storm’s heading our way!”

“Okay, guys, we’re wrapping this up.” Coach twirls his finger in the air. “Let’s get inside. On the double!”

I reach down for the ball, tucking it under my arm and running after my teammates.

“Leave the gear!” Coach shouts. “I don’t want anyone getting fried. Let’s get inside. Now!”

We pick up our pace, our cleats echoing off the concrete tunnel as we race inside, dripping wet and freezing.

Stripping off my gear, I head for a hot shower as fast as I can. I manage to beat the rush but only get two minutes before I’m being shouted out for taking too long.

Shutting off the spray, I wrap a towel around my waist and head back out to get dressed. Coach probably wants us to stick around for a cooldown, stretching in the workout room and shit, but there’s an urgency that’s thrumming through me right now.

I don’t even know what it is until a boom of thunder cracks over the stadium.

“Holy shit, that came in fast.” Grady looks up at the ceiling.

Nylah.

That’s why the fuck I’m hurrying.

I need to get to Nylah.

Not just call her or text to check in.

I need to get to her now .

Because if I found that thunder loud and off-putting… I shake my head, not wanting to think about the effect it would have had on her.

All I know is that she’s not gonna face it alone.

Pulling my jacket on, I duck out of the locker room while my friends are still in the shower.

“Where’s the fire, asshole?” Fleischer calls after me.

I flip him the bird and whip through the door, avoiding the football he just threw at my head. I don’t have time to waste on that dick right now.

I’ve got a girl who needs me.

She might not realize she does. Shit, maybe she doesn’t.

But I’m gonna be there anyway.