I blew out a breath of bittersweet relief. If only Mikey’s own parents would react the same way. “Thank you. I needed to hear that. Thank you.”
When I got off the phone with them, I tried Sam. There was no answer, so I left him a detailed voice message. I bolted out of the car with a shouted thanks to the driver and raced inside to discover Markus had worked his magic. I practically walked right onto a small jet, and within twenty minutes, we were hauling ass down the runway.
The flight seemed to take days, but when we finally landed, I was grateful to see it was at a little private airstrip just outside of Aster Valley. Gentry stood on the tarmac by the small terminal building in a familiar moss-green parka. As soon as he saw me step off the plane, he jogged out to greet me.
“He’s okay,” he called as soon as he was within shouting distance.
I almost stumbled over my feet in relief. Gent gave me a strong hug and told me again. “He’s okay. Just a broken arm and some bumps and scrapes. Winter is with him right now. Let’s go.”
We hopped in his SUV and made our way through the dark night to the small, well-lit emergency room at Aster Valley Med. On the short drive, Gent explained that a drunk driver had careened off the road onto the sidewalk right where Truman was standing. Pim and Mikey saw it coming and jumped forward to grab Truman out of the way. The car hit Pim and Mikey as they shielded Truman.
“Jesus, is Pim alright?”
Gent nodded. “Yeah, Bill’s with him. Pim’s bruised up from the fall, so they’re keeping him overnight to keep an eye on him. Same with Mikey. Just as a precaution, though.”
I blew out a breath and tried to relax now that I knew no one was in a life-or-death situation. But arriving there was still stressful. Was there anyone on earth who didn’t get nervous in hospitals? Medical professionals, presumably. But the rest of us, especially those of us who had careers based on staying injury-free, had visceral reactions to the sights and sounds. I was certainly not immune. But never had I expected my next trip to a hospital to be for someone else—for Mikey.
Gent led me to his room and held the door for me.
Mikey was tiny in the bed. One side of his face was covered in bruises and scratches, and a purple cast covered his left arm and part of his hand.
His eyes moved to me when I let out an unexpected sound of relief. He was here. He was alive. He was talking.
“Tiller?” He sounded like he didn’t believe it was really me. I advanced on him, trying to figure out how to grab him up and hold him tight without hurting him.
As I came closer, he realized it really was me. The sound he let out was almost feral, like a cry of pain and relief all mixed into one. He reached out his arms for me and burst into tears. Winter, who’d been holding his good hand, moved out of the way as I leaned in to wrap my arms around Mikey.
“Shh, I’m here. You’re okay, you’re okay,” I repeated against his ear. His entire body shook against me, and he winced when he tried to move. I carefully let him go and moved my hands to cup his face, smoothing tears away with my thumbs the same way Mopellei had done for me earlier. “I love you.”
Mikey’s eyes widened comically in surprise. “Wh-what?”
The band finally loosened from around my chest. I had everything I needed right here. “I love you so much. I’m in love with you.”
His gaze slid to the television on the wall, where I could see he had the game playing. “But…”
I gently angled him back to meet my eyes. “No buts. I don’t care about the game… or your father. He can send me to the moon for all I care. I’ll finish out the remainder of my contract and then reassess. With you.”
He cried into my neck while Winter and Gent moved toward the door. I waved them back. “Stay,” I said. “I want you to stay so I can thank you.”
Winter smiled. “Your parents went down to grab some coffee. Why don’t I go find them?”
My mom’s voice carried from the doorway. “No need, dear. We’re back.” Mom and Dad bustled into the room with trays full of coffee cups.
Dad went around to the other side of the bed and reached out to squeeze Mikey’s leg. “I thought you said you didn’t need Tiller here? Said you’d be fine without him. I distinctly remember hearing you telling Winter to make sure Tiller stayed in Buffalo for the game. And now here you are acting like he’s important or something.”
I could tell he was teasing Mikey, and seeing my dad smile down at Mikey with affection made me want to cry like a baby. At no point had I thought my father would second-guess my decision to leave the game. My dad may have loved football, but he loved his family more.
Mikey scoffed and moved his arm as if to point. “Moose, he’s important. Okay? I’ve been in love with your son for a long time. And you know that. I told you—” He winced and put his arm back down.
My heart went nuts at his confession, and I couldn’t hold back a grin. When Mikey caught it, he smiled through the pain and rolled his eyes.
“Yes, you big dummy. I love you. Don’t act so surprised.”
“But I am. And I can be surprised and happy at the same time,” I said.
His eyes turned soft. Maybe it was the pain meds, but I chose to believe it was love. “I love you,” he said again.
I leaned over and kissed him carefully before pulling back and meeting his eyes. “I love you, too. And I don’t like being apart.”
He shook his head and then smiled. “Me neither. But I have a plan.”
I had one, too, and I couldn’t wait to tell him all about it.
24
Mikey
I must have drifted off because when I woke up, the hospital room was much darker. Only a small light over a nearby sink was on, and Tiller sat in a recliner he’d pulled alongside the bed. He was dozing with his socked feet propped up on the edge of my bed.
My heart soared as I stared at him. His hair was messy, and his beard scruff darkened his jaws. At some point he’d removed his button-down dress shirt and suit pants and changed into a Riggers hoodie and matching track pants. I recognized his open gym bag on the floor nearby and realized he’d probably come straight from the stadium in Buffalo.
The television played silently on the wall, and familiar sportscasters talked each other’s ears off as the day’s sports scores crawled along the bottom of the screen. I didn’t have my glasses on to read what they said, but I hoped for Tiller’s sake the Riggers had won the game against the Bills.
Actually… fuck that. Now that I thought about it, I didn’t really care. I was tired of caring about football. I wanted Tiller to be happy. That was all. If that meant the Riggers needed to defeat the Bills, then I hope they had. But if he didn’t care, as he’d said earlier, then I didn’t care either.
I needed to be honest with him, though. He needed to know what I’d done, how I’d stupidly gone behind his back and made a deal with the devil. His missing a game could have possibly been excused, but missing it to be with me? No way. My father was going to rain down punishment on all of us for that. Especially if he’d lost his precious game and his chance at the playoffs.
“You hurting, baby?” His voice was rough and grumbly from sleep. “Want me to call the nurse?”