His eyes widen, and he tells me to stop.
“Coach Santos said to run until he said otherwise,” I wheeze.
“I don’t fucking care. Get your ass down here and stretch! Then I want you to ice your knees.”
When I reach him, I can barely stay upright. I can’t seem to make my legs cooperate and almost fall over. He reaches out to steady me. “Jesus Christ. What the hell is wrong with him? I know you fucked up, but this is insane.”
I’ve never heard one of the assistant coaches disagree with Santos before. I try to shrug, but sway. He wraps his arm around my waist and helps me back to the field house. “Did you eat something this morning?”
“No. Didn’t want to puke when I was running.”
“Grab some breakfast. Don’t want you to pass out from low blood sugar.”
When we make it back to the locker area, I see two other assistant coaches talking to a firefighter, who holds up a finger and says something into the walkie-talkie clipped to his shoulder.
My addled brain thinks he’s here for me for some reason, but then he says, “The ambulance took Santos.”
I grab onto the wall to stay upright. “What’s wrong with Coach?”
The special teams assistant rubs his jaw. “He collapsed.”
When I can’t get aholdof Roxy, I race home, but she’s not there. Every step makes my knees almost buckle, but now is not the time to be weak.
Not knowing what to do, I call Cam, but he doesn’t answer, so I ring Jake.
I don’t even give him a chance to talk before I tell him that Coach is in the hospital, and I can’t reach Roxy. Then I let out a string of curses, because if I caused the man to have a heart attack, he’ll always hate me. And I’m not sure if I can live with Roxy’s dad hating me when I’m trying to build a life with her.
Because that’s what we’re trying to do, right? Build something together?
“Hold on,” Jake says. “Let me ask Charlie if she’s heard from her.” A minute later, he returns. “Sorry, man. They haven’t spoken today. I’ll let you know if I hear anything, though. Do you know which hospital he’s at? Maybe we should go down there.”
Would Coach want to see me? Probably not, but there’s a chance Roxy’s already heard and headed to the hospital, and I could go support her. “That’s a good idea. The firefighters said paramedics took him to Charming Memorial. I’ll see you there.”
I hang up and pace my living room to calm the fuck down. I don’t know if it’s adrenaline, but suddenly, the pain in my legs is the last thing I’m thinking about.
What the hell am I supposed to tell Roxy?Sorry, Rox, but your dad got so pissed at me he had a heart attack?I don’t know for sure that’s what happened, but I did see him rubbinghis chest this morning. Could I have done something then to help? Should I have said something?
As I grab my jacket, I have the fleeting thought that at least today can’t get any worse.
Then I open the door.
Two police officers stare at me, hard expressions on their faces. One has his hand up, about to knock.
Oh, fuck. I killed Coach. He was so pissed at me, he dropped dead. Rox will never forgive me for killing her dad.
The taller cop holds out a badge. “William Babcock?”
I probably shouldn’t lie right now. “Yes.”
“You’re under arrest for assaulting Ezra Thomas.”
I’m so relieved this isn’t about Santos, I almost laugh. That pencil dick Ezra.
As I’m hauled off in handcuffs and jammed in the back of a police cruiser, I consider the silver lining.
Maybe Coach is alive.
33
