Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
I sigh and close my eyes, feeling the sun hit my face. I wish I could open them and be home with Gage and Ever in our little house in Cambridge.
Dr. Perkins’s voice cuts into my thoughts. “I don’t want you to get down. This is a team effort and we are going to need you to be strong.”
Team effort.
I smile, recalling Crew’s explanation to Everleigh.
“We need you to take care of yourself. Make sure you eat and get rest. It’s imperative that you stay strong for your little girl.” He stands and straightens his jacket. “If you need anything, alert the nurses. Otherwise, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Thank you.”
He stands and before he gets to the door, it swings open. A red-headed nurse I remember from another visit comes in.
She’s small, maybe five feet, with a creamy white complexion and bright green eyes. Her smile is wide and friendly.
“Hi,” she says. “I’m Macie. I don’t know if you remember me or not.”
“I do.” I smile. “I’m Julia. This is Ever.”
“She’s a cutie,” she says, looking at my baby girl. “Can I get you anything? Water? A Coke? Something to eat?” She flips through the file in her hand and makes a few notes.
“No. I’m fine. Thank you.”
She turns her attention back to me, leaning against the end of the bed. “Tell me about you.”
I shrug, not sure why she’s asking. “About me?”
She laughs easily, her red ponytail swishing around. “We are going to be seeing a lot of each other for a while. It just makes things easier if we have something to talk about, right?”
“I guess . . .” I don’t like the idea of getting to know the staff here. I don’t want to be here enough to know them. I want to pretend like they don’t exist.
“Well,” she says, “I’ll go first. I like the color purple, the Boston Red Sox, and Sex on the Beach—both in real life and the drink.” She laughs.
Her laugh is light and friendly, and I find myself wondering what it would be like to drink wine and watch a movie with her. She seems like someone I’d like outside of the hospital.
“Okay, fair enough. I like to cook, watch movies, and the color purple, too.”
“One thing in common. That’s a start.” She moves around Ever’s bed and presses a button to stop the beeping it started to make. “Are you married?”
I shake my head. “My husband is deceased.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. What about you?”
She shrugs carelessly and I wish for a split second I knew what that felt like. “I’m just having fun. Seeing a couple of guys semi-regularly but nothing serious.” She glances at her watch. “Okay. I have to give some meds in just a few minutes. It was nice talking to you, Julia.”
“It was nice talking to you, too, Macie.”
She smiles and heads out, leaving me with slightly happier spirits than when she arrived.
TWENTY-EIGHT
CREW
I slide into the cab of my truck and toss my bag in beside me. Before starting the engine, I turn on my phone to see if Julia has texted me. Every time I check it, I have a shit ton of missed calls and voicemails from people that have seen the interview on the news or the web somewhere. It would be completely entertaining if the circumstances were different. I’d be eating this up, but there’s too much attached to it now. I scroll through six messages before I find Jules’s name.
Julia: Port is in. She’s sleepy but doing well. She’s asking for you and I told her you’d try to come by tonight.
I start to respond when it vibrates in my hand. I don’t know the number.
“Hello?”
“Is this Crew Gentry?”
“Yeah. Who is this?”
“Good evening, Crew. This is Don Wetzel with the NAFL.”
My mouth goes dry. I remember this guy. He’s the guy that I talked to my senior year at Minnesota. He’s the one that approached me about joining their organization.
It fucking worked.
It.
Fucking.
Worked.
“You don’t happen to remember me, do you?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say and clear my throat. “What can I do for you?”
He chuckles. “I’m pretty sure you know why I’m calling.”
“Humor me.”
“Very well. We had a fight lined up in less than three months for your old buddy Hunter Davidson. You might know a little something about that.”
It’s my turn to laugh, but I’m not about to show my hand too early. “Maybe.”
“Well, it seems a certain bar fight and interview have put you back in the spotlight.”
“So I’ve heard.”
He pauses. “How’s your health these days?”
“I’m workin’ the docks. What’s that tell you?”
“Look, Crew. I almost didn’t call you about this . . .” He sighs into the line and my heartbeat quickens. “Davidson’s opponent dropped out, which I know you know. Your . . . demonstration last week and the discussion with the television station has fueled Davidson’s camp. I’m just going to be honest with you here. Davidson’s making himself known as a helluva fighter. He’s ending his fights in dramatic fashion. With Reyes dropping out, he’d have to fight either Patterson or Hickman and he’d have to go to all the way up to 205 to do that.”