Page 29 of True Honey (The Hornets Nest #4)
“Arlo, manage Ryan’s expectations just for the next two innings.
Do not let him on to how bad this might be,” I said and he nodded tightly, his hand clenched at his sides.
My heart was hammering in my chest uncontrollably waiting for his face to fall as he came into the dugout but he took each high five without giving them a clue what happened.
Ryan eyed him and his eyes flickered to mine before returning to his son’s.
“Locker room now,” he said and Cael was in the process of arguing when Arlo blocked his path into the dugout further, his hard glare looking at the door to the tunnel. Dean appeared beside me, wanting to know what was going on.
“Do not lose this game,” I warned him. Leaving out the fact that if they didn’t it would all be in vain.
Dean tapped his fingers to his chest and started to rally the boys as I pushed my way around them. Ella was standing on the other side of the door with the medical bag slung over her shoulder and a devastated look on her face.
“I’m alright, Peachy—”
Cael didn’t make it a step before the pain took over every muscle in his body and he crumpled against the wall with a shocking thump.
Ella gasped her brows pulling together as I bent at the knees scooping up his body by the waist. She darted ahead of us, opening the doors so we could pass through.
My grip was tight around him, carrying the majority of his weight just trying to keep him upright long enough to get him into the medical wing.
“Something isn’t right,” Cael groaned, as he rolled onto the nearest bed. “I can’t feel my arm but the pain in my shoulder is—” his words trailed off and his body tightened again.
“We can’t fix this here,” I said to Ella and she instantly whipped her phone out calling for an ambulance.
“Cael listen to me,” I said but he was lost in whatever wave of pain had hit again.
“Cael come on,” I tapped the side of his face and he forced his eyes open.
“There you are, they’re going to have to assess you but there’s a good chance you just tore the muscles in your rotator cuff… again .”
“You and—” he screwed his eyes shut through the surge of pain. “Peachy said that if it happened again—”
“It would be the last time you played, that’s right Cael,” I reminded him with a soft tone in my voice as he fought back a string of frustrated tears. “You should have told us it was sore.”
“I just wanted to play,” he groaned, “I didn’t want to let dad down again.”
I cursed the words that tumbled out of him as Ella returned.
“What do you need from me?” She asked, her brown eyes filled with worry.
“Go back to the game,” I said and before she could argue, I cut her off again, “one of us needs to be here in case something else goes wrong and Josh needs to be watched like a hawk. We can’t lose them both.
I have all of Cael’s medical information and can handle the doctors at the hospital,” I explained and Ella nodded, understanding without any more arguments.
“Go, do not tell Ryan a single thing outside that Cael just needed some ice, wait until the game is over.”
Ella disappeared from the office and eventually the paramedics were brought back through the stadium quietly.
They stabilized his shoulder as he barked at them not to give him any drugs.
I calmed him back down, with a simple promise to keep an eye on what they were giving him.
He stared at me, more terrified of the drugs to ease his pain than the agony of his shoulder being torn to shreds and that broke my heart all over again.
Meanwhile, the crowd had no idea they’d just watched what might be his last game ever.
I ran my hands through my hair and climbed into the back of the ambulance with them, telling them to leave the lights and sirens off.
The nurses at the hospital wasted no time getting him a bed and there had been more than one doctor in and out of his temporary room in the emergency room.
He needed more scans but it was pretty obvious that he had just caused irreparable damage to his body.
It wasn't until we were admitted to a bed and Cael was finally asleep that I caught my breath long enough to remember that I promised Drew and August I would meet them in the office.
I texted her quickly, letting her know that I wouldn’t be home for a while feeling shitty on top of guilt for accidentally forgetting about them in all the chaos.
I had let Cael’s injury slip through the cracks and found out first hand what it looked like when I failed my team and got distracted.
I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes and did my best not to lose my shit as the distant beeping grew incessant.
“Is he okay?” Ryan’s voice broke as he stepped into the room. His hair was a mess, his hat crumpled in his hand and a distant look on his face.
I nodded, “he will be… Ryan—”
“He’s done, isn’t he? He won't be able to play after this?” He asked me, slowly approaching the bed and his sleeping son.
“Chances he’ll be back on the field are low,” I confirmed and Ryan’s hand roughly curled around the handle of the bed. “I don’t know how I missed it,” I said.
Ryan glared at me and without words, I could feel all of his accusations.
I pulled the medical chart from the base of the bed and read through everything explaining what it all meant in simple terms. The more I read, the more devastated Ryan looked.
Walking the line between Coach and Father was harder than it looked and today Ryan was battling against the expectations of both.
“Go home, Shore.” He didn’t look up from Cael’s face, his voice tight with anger, “you’ve done enough today. I’ll call you with updates.”
I couldn’t help but feel like a scolded little kid leaving the hospital but I called a cab and by the time I made it back to the Nest my entire body was exhausted with guilt.
I fielded whatever questions the boys had before wandering downstairs in search of my bed but when I pushed open the apartment door the smell of dinner hit my nose.
Drew and August were setting the table with dishes I had never used. I pulled at the collar of my shirt just trying to get my head in the right space as the door clicked shut and Drew’s eyes found mine.
“We thought you might be hungry,” she said, and the sweet tone to her voice was enough to have the glass walls built around my heart splintering and threatening to shatter.
“It smells amazing,” I said, inhaling my words.
“Enchiladas,” August said.
“Don’t those take hours to make?” I questioned, kicking the shoes off my sore feet and walking over to the fridge.
“Silas it’s nearly midnight,” Drew said, her eyes drifting to the clock on the stove, 11:49.
Had I really been at the hospital that long? It had felt like all the time was jumbled up into a few minutes not six hours. “Thank you for dinner,” I said, trying to maintain myself until I collapsed in bed. “It’s late, you guys didn’t have to stay up waiting for me.”
“You shouldn’t eat alone,” her voice was patient with me, more patient than I probably deserved after I forgot them waiting at the stadium. Drew made a plate for me as I grabbed a cup from the upper cabinets and filled it with water. “How is he?” She asked.
He’s a recovering drug addict laying in bed suffering through a career ending shoulder injury without a lick of pain medication. “He’s been better.”
I didn’t notice the shake in my hands until the glass slipped, shattering against the corner of the island, the pieces skittering across the kitchen floor.
“Shit,” I swore, turning to clean it up and watched as Drew moved faster, scooping up the bigger pieces of glass with her bare hands.
“I can do it,” I said but she didn’t listen, she just kept moving.
“You’re gonna cut yourself,” I murmured as she moved around me.
I popped open the cupboard that held the broom but by the time I turned around she had already collected most of the glass.
I was getting frustrated by the silence and she wasn’t taking a minute to just let me help.
It was my fucking fault the glass was broken.
My head is fuzzy and I’m bared down by guilt so badly that I can feel it like lead in my bloodstream.
I was so flustered that I didn’t even realize that I was raising my voice until I barked, “stop!”
Drew froze by the garbage can, inhaling slowly before she turned around and excused herself from the kitchen leaving August and me standing there without explanation of what just happened.
“What was that?” I asked August as her door shut, the floor still covered in water.
“Oh she just does that sometimes, it’s not your fault,” he said to me, wandering toward the bathroom he returned with a towel just in time for me to fully process what he said.
“What do you mean she just does that?” I asked, “hey no, give me that.” I said, my voice going soft as I took it from him and making him step back just in case there’s more glass.
“Uh—” August backed away, his nervousness palpable as he chewed on the inside of his lip. I could tell that it was a conversation he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to have but I stared at him for a moment longer and eventually he folded. “My dad does that.”
“Does what? Auggie?” I said, my heart rate picking up as I cleaned up the last of the water. I stood up and chucked the towel in the sink, pausing to pry the answer out of him again before sweeping the broom over the floor. “Yells?” I asked.
“No,” August said and stopped, “well yeah.” He corrected begrudgingly, “but he breaks a lot of dishes.”
What? The way he said it flooded my body with an unfamiliar heat, one that I had felt the day I found out that Josh was attacked by Ian. The kind that made me want to spend all my stupid rich resources to make a wrong, right.
I ran a shaky hand through my already stress-tugged hair and inhaled slowly before I spoke again. “Did he ever hit you or your mom?” I asked, carefully watching the way August answered.
“He never hit me,” August said.
“What about your mom?” I asked, and waited, my heart in my throat. Please say no. If August even hinted at it… I ground my teeth together trying to control my expression so I didn’t scare him out of being honest.
“I don’t remember,” he answered, clearly uncomfortable with sharing too much without his mother around. I understood, I’d stop digging.
“He was never really nice to Mom, still isn’t. He’s not even really nice to me. I think that’s why we move around so much. She gets nervous when she messes up and then gets in her own head.” He was talking from experience
I yelled at her, that's why she took off. In a moment of frantic distraction and exhaustion I had done the one thing unknowingly that might have set us back another ten steps.
“It’s okay August, I shouldn’t be prying.” I patted the island. “Hey did you get to talk to Daisy?” I asked, changing the subject and letting him distract me with his crush news as my eyes stayed focused on the door that separated Drew and I.
Later that night I was laying in bed staring at the ceiling, contemplating every wrong step I took that ended up with Cael in a hospital bed, when there was a soft knock on the door.
The handle turned before I could say anything and Drew stood in the cracked doorway, illuminated by the bathroom light she left on for August.
I stared at her for a long second before nodding gently, letting her know I was awake. She padded across the room in her pajamas and slipped into bed, her body curling against mine.
“You should be sleeping,” she said, her voice muffled.
“So should you.” I whispered back, nuzzling my face into her hair. I didn’t care why she was awake, only that she had come back to me.