Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 101335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“I think he’s broken some ribs, maybe most of them and you need to look at his face. It might be a broken jaw. Check his cheekbone, too. His nose is shattered,” the agent butted in. Colt focused his only good eye from the doctor to the agent who gave him a very unmistakable ‘keep your fucking mouth shut’ look.
“We need to get him to the hospital.” The medical professional was gone from his eyesight and then came back into view. Colt could feel his gentle hand on his body, and he closed his eyes in relief.
“No, it needs to be done here. This is Colt Michaels. We don’t need the press.”
“No shit? He’s a good kid. Seriously, John, what happened to him?” The gentle touch faltered, and Colt hissed as the T-shirt was stripped from his body.
“He’s pissed off the wrong people, apparently.” That was the closest thing to the truth Johnny had said since Dr. Patterson walked in the room. Colt kept his eyes closed and concentrated on breathing through the pain. Minutes felt like hours, and Colt thought he may have passed out again, until another glass of whiskey was forced down his throat.
“Drink this. They’re bringing more people up to work on you. Stay quiet, do you understand me? You don’t know what happened. You were attacked last night. Got it? Dr. Patterson will bandage you up, and we’ll talk more when he leaves. Got it?”
Colt nodded; it was all he could do. He was scared, alone, and broken. Who would believe him anyway? Opening his mouth, he took another drink of the offered whiskey, this time the harsh liquid didn’t burn a trail down his throat, instead it soothed him. He kept his eyes closed and let sleep take him.
***
Colt sat slowly, wincing through the pain. His ribs were bandaged, he was careful of them as he eased up on the sofa. Colt happened to catch his partial reflection in the mirror hanging over the dark leather chair across from him. His face was cleaned, stitched back together, looking better than he’d thought it would after the beating he’d just suffered. Nothing hid the intense swelling or bruising, but remarkably, his father hadn’t broken anything too badly. He would heal. “How did you find out?”
“It’s a small airport and you were too public. I knew before you left the island.”
“You didn’t have to tell my dad.”
“Of course I did.” Johnny watched him intently, his regular scotch and soda in one hand. He tossed the drink back, downing the contents in one swallow before hitting the mini bar in the corner of the room for a refill.
“No, you didn’t. I’m an adult. This should have been just between us,” Colt said in little more than a whisper. The alcohol seemed to have a sedating effect on his nerves, which he welcomed. Colt looked down at his hands. The pinky on his left hand was jammed. He held out his left arm, taking note of his injuries. His left arm was already turning black and blue, but this wasn’t his throwing arm, was it? God forbid that. Colt looked over his right arm and sneered. Finding exactly what he expected, his father was always protective of his right arm. Not a scratch to be seen.
“Colton, he’s my best friend and your manager. He’s worked your career since you were five years old. He had a right to know you were making the worst mistake of your life,” Johnny said. He placed a drink in front of Colt and sat across from him in a leather side chair.
“I think I’m gay.” Even after being beat with an inch of his life, Colt wasn’t willing to let Jace go.
“No, you aren’t, son,” Johnny said and drank his drink down in two big gulps.
“I love him.” Colt hung on to Jace even if the words were said with shaken confidence.
“No, you don’t. This thing you’re going through is normal. It’s nothing more than hormones, a rebellious kind of deal. We all go through it at your age.” Johnny was back up, refilling his glass. Colt chuckled, which pulled at his stomach muscles. He immediately regretted the action when he sucked in a breath and pain shot from his cracked ribs.
“Don’t laugh, it’s true.” Johnny’s glass was filled to the rim this time when he took his seat across from Colt. Johnny looked so casual sitting there, so sure of himself.
“So, you’re saying you fucked guys when you were twenty-two years old?” Colt stared at Johnny who wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Instead, he took another long drink. It sure looked like he was weighing each answer before he spoke.
“No, I didn’t do that, but I did other things. The difference was I always kept my future first in my mind. It’s what you need to do, son.”
“Don’t son me. You let him beat the shit out of me,” Colt said. He finally lifted his drink, taking a sip. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea to mix the pain medicine the doctor had given him with alcohol. But if Johnny needed the liquid courage to finish this conversation, he supposed he might too. No way was he giving up Jace, even after having his ass handed to him. He loved him. Jace was moving away with him; they had it all planned out. And he was the happiest he’d ever been.
“I stopped it, didn’t I?”
“Not soon enough,” Colt shot back. Johnny leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, and stared at Colt for several long seconds until he finally stopped playing cat and mouse and started talking honestly.
“There’s no way this is gonna be acceptable to the NFL. Your father has too much ridin’ on you. He’s not gonna let this just slide by, you know that. When we heard what was goin’ on in Hawaii, your dad went fuckin’ nuts. He wanted to go after that boy.”
“Jace knows we have to hide.” Colt didn’t know the time, and he carefully turned his head to look out the window. It was dark outside. Shit, he’d been here all day, and he’d told Jace to wait at the hotel for him.