Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 87395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
"Andrew?" Kevin asked.
"Ready already," Andrew said, and started for the locker room.
Neil didn't watch them leave. He sat on home bench and stared at the court, listening to the door close behind them. He reached over and picked a ball out of the bucket, turning it over and over in his fingers.
"Court," Neil whispered, then gave himself a violent shake.
He squeezed the ball until his fingers ached, mentally retracing his steps backward. He went to Arizona, then across Nevada to California. He remembered the black sands beach along California's lost coast where his mother finally gave up the fight. He hadn't even realized she'd been injured so badly after running into his father in Seattle. She'd bled most of the way through Oregon, but he hadn't thought it was serious. He hadn't known she was bleeding out on the inside, a kidney and her liver ruptured, her intestines bruised beyond repair.
He didn't know when she figured it out, if she'd known by Portland that something was seriously wrong but was too scared to stop or if she hadn't seen her death coming until they crossed the California border and she started losing consciousness. She should have gone to a hospital, but she'd turned them down the treacherous path to the lost coast instead. They stopped six feet from the tide and she made him repeat every promise she'd ever dragged out of him: don't look back, don't slow down, and don't trust anyone. Be anyone but himself, and never be anyone for too long.
By the time Neil understood she was saying goodbye, it was too late.
She died gasping for one more breath, panting with something that might have been words or his name or fear. Neil could still feel her fingernails digging into his arms as she fought not to slip away, and the memory left him shaking all over. Her abdomen felt like stone when he touched her, swollen and hard. He tried pulling her from her seat only once, but the sound of her dried blood ripping off the vinyl like Velcro killed him.
He burned the car instead, dumping every emergency case of gasoline they'd bought along the way onto the seats so it'd scorch her down to the bone. He hadn't cried when the flames caught, and he hadn't flinched when he pulled her cooling bones out. He filled her backpack with everything that was left of her, carried her two miles down the beach, and buried her as deep as he could. By the time he found the highway again he was numb with shock, and he lasted another day before he fell to his knees on the roadside and puked his guts out. Somehow he'd made it to San Francisco, but he only stayed a day before setting off for Millport. He took it one step and one mile and one day at a time because anything else was too much for him to handle in his grief.
Neil stared at the court in front of him and swallowed once, twice, against the nausea that was crawling up his throat. This was why Wymack's contract, Kevin's lofty ambitions, and Andrew's words meant nothing in the end. It didn't matter what they offered or promised him. Neil wasn't like them. He was nothing and no one, and he always would be. Court wasn't for people like him. He'd take what he could learn and enjoy it while he could, but this was a dream he'd have to wake up from eventually. Wanting anything more than that would just make it harder to walk away.
He dropped the ball back into the bucket and went up to the locker room. After making sure Kevin and Andrew really were gone, he changed into his uniform and headed to the court for drills. He wore himself out, putting every thought he had into the moves he was making so he couldn't think about the Foxes or Court or his past. When he was finally done and had cleaned everything up, it was after dawn. He was too tired to go back to Wymack's and knew he'd just get back when Wymack was watching the morning news, so he showered and dressed and fell asleep on one of the Foxes' couches.
He woke up again around noon and headed back to the apartment. His keys got him into the building, but Wymack's door was unlocked again. Neil considered bringing up Wymack's lax security with the coach and then forgot all about it. Even with the door just a couple inches open he could hear furious voices arguing. He put an ear to the crack and held his breath, straining to make out the words.
"Damn it, Kevin, I said sit down!"
"I won't!" Kevin shot back. If Wymack hadn't said his name already, Neil wouldn't have recognized his voice. Kevin's voice was twisted with fear and panic. "How could you let him do this?"
"I don't have any say in this and you know it. Hey!"
There was a hard thud as bodies hit the wall, and Neil took advantage of the struggle to slip inside. He closed the door as quietly as he could, but his stealth was a wasted effort. It sounded like Wymack and Kevin were knocking over everything Wymack owned, and Neil winced at the sharp sound of shattering glass.
"Look at me," Wymack demanded. "Look at me, god damn you, and breathe."
"I warned Andrew he was going to come for me. I told him!"
"It doesn't matter. You signed a contract with me."
"He could pay off my scholarship in a heartbeat. You know he would. He'd pay you off and take me home and I—I can't go back there. I can't, I can't, I won't, I—I have to go. I have to go. I should go now, before he has to come for me. Maybe he'll forgive me if I go back. If I make him hunt me down any more than I have already he'll kill me for sure."
"Shut up," Wymack said. "You're not going anywhere."