Football held no appeal for me anymore. I was tired of all of it—the pain, the politics, feeling like I couldn’t trust anyone on or off the team.
Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower and slipped trunks and a shirt on to take my girl down to the water’s edge. I would side arm a stick into the surf—she would dash in after it and let the waves carry her back to shore for me to throw it again.
It was peaceful. Gave me time to mull over my mistakes. The defense was out of sync, and it wasn’t their fault. It was mine. My teammates were understanding and patient, but they wanted leadership on the field, and I wasn’t giving it to them.
Because Lily was all I thought about. I had a constant inner monologue with questions I had no answers for. What class would she be teaching right now? How were the shelter plans coming? Had any more dogs shown up, or did she have any more leads on the mill? How was Laila?
Did she miss me? Did she still love me? And the biggest blank of all. Why? Why didn’t she tell me about the shelter? Why did it feel so real, if it wasn’t? Surly bastard that I was, I refused to contemplate the possibility of Lily getting married. It simply didn’t exist in my orbit. Complete denial.
She’d told me I was right to be angry, but my reasons were all wrong.
When CC came out of the water walking instead of running, I knew it was time to quit. I rinsed the saltwater off her in the footbath and filled her bowl with fresh water. Pulling another beer from the fridge, I grabbed my phone and the pictures I tortured myself with off the counter before I settled into the lounger next to CC.
Part of me understood why Lily had gone to Dick. The dogs. What she wouldn’t do for those dogs. Hell, what I wouldn’t do for the dogs. I could see why she wouldn’t come to me for the money, too. She was afraid it would make me question her loyalty. So, what do I do? Oh, I question it anyway. But, why not tell me about the shelter if she wasn’t setting me up with Dick?
It sure as hell wouldn’t have been out of character for Dick to lie to me about it—to manipulate me and Lily to his own purpose. If she would have just trusted me—
Like you trusted her? I fingered the picture of us on the balcony. It was the one I came back to over and over. I hadn’t trusted her. I’d believed the worst and didn’t even ask her to explain. I just assumed she’d kicked me where it hurt the most...because that’s what people do.
Golly, Karen, I wonder why she didn’t let you in? Maybe she held on to a little of her fear, the same as you did.
I was right to be angry that she didn’t tell me about the shelter, but the reason she didn’t wasn’t because she cut a deal with Dick to sell me out, it was because deep down she still worried I wouldn’t be there for her.
And that’s exactly what had happened.
Self-fulfilling prophecy much?
“Ah, fuck. We both held on to the bullshit.” CC lifted her head to stare at me like I was nuts. I was fairly sure my dog understood everything I said, thought I was an idiot half the time, and as such, it was her job to protect me.
Mah humanz a doooofus.
“It’s okay, girl. Go back to sleep. Daddy’s inner voice is an asshole, is all.”
Still, there were so many holes. What about the fiancé? And if Lily didn’t sell me to Dick, why did he agree to the shelter?
Picking up my phone, I thumbed up Hayes’s number.
“Well, well. You son of a bitch. Finally decided to answer the phone, huh? Good to know you’re alive, asshole.” His voice was teasing, and I could hear his crooked smile, but there was an undertone that was clearly hey fuckstick, I’ve been worried about you!
“Yeah, I’ve been trying to get up to speed here and it’s taking a lot of my time.” The truth, but also man speak subtext for I’m sorry I’ve been a twat because I’m nursing a broken heart. “I saw the hit you took against San Diego. How’s the knee?” I care about you and you are my bestie.
“Bruised. Sore. But okay. You’ve had a rough go lately, too.” You’re my bestie, too. I really don’t want to talk about it.
I sighed into the phone. “Yeah, my head’s not in it.” I am a fuckstick. I see you noticed my fuckery. Thanks for that.
“The girl?” Get your head out of your ass, dude.
“Probably.” I’m lying. It’s totally the girl.
“What do you mean, probably? You’re so in love with that woman you don’t know your ass from your elbow.” This was completely self-explanatory.
I grunted. Took a deep swig from my bottle.
“Lil’s not real cray-cray about her new job either. I mean, she’s good at it. She doesn’t take shit from Chase or Dick. But you can tell it’s wearing on her.”
I choked, sprayed beer all over my lap and the pictures lying there. Coughing, I tried to shake off the worst of the damage. “Lily isn’t at the Unruly Dog anymore?”
“Dick made her the head trainer. I thought you knew.”
“Why would she do that? She loved working with those dogs. Lily doesn’t always people well.”
Fuck me on a cactus. Lily didn’t sell me out to get her shelter. She sold herself and went to work for the team. I didn’t understand why Dick would want her working for the team in exchange, but I knew down to my very marrow that Lily Costello didn’t set me up.
See? Fuckstick.
“Sorry, I assumed you knew. But no shit about the peopling. Half the team is afraid to piss her off for fear of an ass chewing. They’re all scared of your girlfriend, Shaw. She does not put up with shit or excuses. Wallace hurt his thumb horsing around during walk-throughs and Lily lit into him. It was funny as hell. I think he’s half in love with her now. He’s definitely a bottom.”
I broke into a belly laugh that I hadn’t felt since I left. “That was my girl. Pack leader all the way.” I scanned over the picture of her that took the most of my beer-fountain damage and a flash of color caught my eye. “Oh shit. Is that? Hayes, let me call you later, okay?”
“Yeah. Hey, don’t drop off the Earth this time, okay?” I love you, man.
“Later.” I love you, too, bro.
After I hung up, CC followed me inside and I flipped on the island light, putting the picture down on the counter. Please tell me it wasn’t my imagination.
Using the empty bottle, I angled it back and forth over one photo trying to get a better look. It had taken the majority of my beer fountain. The photo was grainy and a little far off, so I hadn’t really lingered on it before.
It was of Lily leaving my building. A side profile of her walking to her car with a to-go coffee in her hand. Behind her, parked bed-first inside the garage, sat a black pickup truck.