“No. Thank you,” I answer.
With that, she gives me a soft smile, nods, and heads out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.
I close my eyes and struggle to inhale through my nose, attempting to calm my nerves, when I hear Carson shift in his seat. If it weren’t for his hand still on mine, I’d have forgotten he was here.
“Dakota, I know you need to rest. I do. But I don’t think you have a choice regarding pressing charges against Aaron. You’ll at least want an order of protection against him so he can’t come near you. My dad can help you. Once he hears about this, there’s no way he’ll stand for a piece of shit with no integrity to stay at their practice.”
My breaths start to shallow as the monitor’s beeping picks up speed. Trepidation and dread consume me as his words sink in.
“Carson, you don’t understand. Aaron w-will kill me if he loses his job. It’s all he’s worked for—all he’s cared about the entire time I’ve known him.”
Still holding my hand in his, Carson gently squeezes my hand three times as he says, “I’ve got you.”
I’m not sure why such a small gesture from a man I’ve only recently become friends with somehow both eases my terror while also earning my trust.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Austin. I’m going to take care of you, and I’ll have my father help me take care of Aaron. You have my word.”
Maybe it’s the pain medication, maybe it’s the conviction in his words, either way, I find myself nodding in acknowledgment as what I vow will be the last tears shed over my future ex-husband stream down my cheeks.
9
January
The sterile smell of Dakota’s hospital room transports me back to haunting memories of my sister’s coma and Katie’s death. I feel like I’m stuck in a reoccurring nightmare I can’t wake up from.
Dakota has been in the hospital now for three days due to complications with her lung collapsing again and her kidney needing continued monitoring. I just got off the phone with a frantic McKenna. Griffin hurt his knee in his game last night, and they flew back to Minnesota on a private jet in the middle of the night.
Mack wanted to get an update on Dakota and let me know she would probably stay at Griffin’s until his surgery later this week to help him. Thankfully, my mom can help with Cadence, and Mack is on winter break from classes. But Mack said once I fly out for my game tomorrow, if Dakota is discharged, she can stay with them at Griff’s house while they both recover.
But that’s just the thing. I haven’t gotten a good read on what Dakota plans to do once she’s discharged. She’s been incredibly tight-lipped with me since she overheard me talking to my dad on the phone about what Aaron did. Hopefully she’ll come around once she hears my dad out.
Dakota’s phone vibrates beside her on the bed for what feels like the hundredth time.
“Are you going to pick it up?” I ask, not needing to see the screen to know it’s her brother.
“No, it’s best he doesn’t hear about this. He’d probably do something irrational, like fly up here and refuse to play in his game this weekend. They need to win it to clinch the wildcard for the playoffs.”
“If you leave him in the dark and only text him, he’ll probably get suspicious enough to fly up here regardless. Look, I’m not saying you need to FaceTime with him, but take the advice of an older brother who’s a major worrywart—just let the guy hear your voice so he knows you’re alive,” I suggest.
She shakes her head in disagreement. “Once Brody hears my voice, he will know something is wrong. I’m not a very good liar.”
“Then put the phone on speakerphone, and I’ll do some of the talking to distract him.”
A ghost of a smile dances across Dakota’s face, and the sight of it makes my chest squeeze with pride. “Nice try. I know you’re just trying to talk to your favorite football player.”
I don’t even try to deny it. “Guilty,” I say as I hold my hands up. “But for what it’s worth, I do think he needs to hear your voice—you know, proof of life and all that—otherwise, if he’s anything like me, he’ll fixate on why he hasn’t heard from you. Didn’t you say you usually talk on the phone every day? It’s been three, Austen.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll call him on speaker. Just promise me you won’t say anything about where we are.”
Even though it goes against everything I stand for as a brother, I look her in the eye and hold my pinky out for her.
“Are you serious?” she questions, staring at my pinky in confusion.
“Yeah, my pinky promises are special. I pinky kiss promise that I won’t tell him where you are right now.”
“What in the world is a pinky kiss promise?”
“Hold up your pinky and cross it with mine,” I start before she cuts me off.
