Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
For the first time Neil appreciated Andrew's apathy. In a stadium gone mad and with too much on the line tonight, Neil finally saw Andrew as the crucial eye of the storm. Because Andrew refused to get caught up in this, he was the only person on the court with a cool head.
"Last month you shut the Catamounts out," Neil said. "Can you do it again tonight?"
"The Catamounts were a wretched team," Andrew said. "They brought that ridicule on themselves."
"Can you or can't you?"
"I don't see why I should."
Neil heard the click of a lock coming undone and knew the referees were opening the door. Andrew wasn't moving yet, but Neil still put an arm in his path to keep him where he was. He pressed his gloved hand to the wall and leaned in as close to Andrew as he could with all of his bulky gear on.
"I'm asking you to help us," Neil said. "Will you?"
Andrew considered it a moment. "Not for free."
"Anything," Neil promised, and stepped back to take his place in line again.
Neil didn't know what he'd gotten himself into, but he honestly didn't care, because Andrew delivered exactly what Neil wanted him to. Andrew closed the goal like his life depended on it and smashed away every shot. The Bearcat strikers took that challenge head-on. They feinted and swerved and threw every trick shot they had at Andrew. More than once Andrew used his glove or body to block a ball he couldn't get his racquet to in time.
That might have been enough, except Andrew didn't stop there. For the first time ever he started talking to the defense line. Neil only understood him in snatches, since there was too much space and movement between them, but what he caught was enough. Andrew was chewing out the backliners for letting the strikers past them so many times and ordering them to pick up the pace. Neil worried for a moment what they'd do with Andrew's rude brand of teamwork at their backs, but the next time he got a good look at Matt, Matt was grinning like this was the most fun he'd had in years.
It took all of second half for the Foxes to catch up, and with one minute left on the clock Kevin scored to put them in the lead. The last sixty seconds of the game were a blur of violence and threats as the Bearcats tried to draw even. The final buzzer sounded on a Fox win, and the teams were fighting before the sound petered off. Neil didn't know who started it; he shot a triumphant look down the court to Andrew and stared when he saw the Bearcat strikers tangling with Nicky and Matt. Allison and her dealer mark got dragged into it when they went to intervene.
Kevin started that way, but Neil ran to grab him. If Kevin got pounced Andrew would get involved and the violence would escalate to unforgivable levels. He dragged Kevin around the brawl instead so Andrew could see he was all right. Wymack and the Bearcats' three coaches helped the referees untangle their players. The teams skipped the customary post-game handshake in favor of stomping off the court. Since Wymack didn't waste his breath yelling at them, Neil guessed the Foxes hadn't thrown the first punch.
It was Neil's turn to help Dan with the post-game press. Andrew caught Neil's eye and tipped his head toward the locker room. He was respecting Neil's decision to stand alone and wouldn't hover while Neil said his piece. Neil answered that trust with a small smile, and Andrew turned away. Neil would have watched him go, but Dan redirected his attention where it needed to be right now.
They were asked all the usual questions: how were they feeling, how excited were they to advance, what did they think of the Bearcats' performance, and so on. Dan was happy to ramble away at length, which nicely balanced out Neil's more reserved responses, and they survived the interview intact. Dan slung an arm around Neil's shoulders as they headed for the locker room and tipped her head to one side to rest her helmet against his.
She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. Neil could practically feel her excitement radiating off of her. They'd made an incredible comeback tonight and continued their perfect streak. One game stood between them and semifinals. All they had to do was win their rematch against the Bearcats in two weeks and they were in.
The showers were going when Neil made it to the men's room. The Bearcats, like the Foxes, had actual stalls erected in both bathrooms, so Neil didn't have to wait on everyone else to finish before washing up. He carried his clothes to one of the open stalls and let the hot water work every ache out of his exhausted body. By the time he was done and getting dressed again, the locker room was empty. Neil packed his bag and slung it over his shoulder.
He was halfway to the door when his phone hummed. His first thought was it was a text, but his phone kept buzzing. He stopped to pull it out of his pocket and flipped it open. The screen lit up with the incoming number and Neil's stomach bottomed out. He didn't recognize the phone number, but he didn't have to. He knew that 443 area code.
Baltimore was calling.
"Don't run."
The sound of his voice startled him. He hadn't meant to speak. His muscles screamed with barely restrained tension; he was braced to bolt but somehow he held his ground. Neil fought to relax, but his blood was pounding in his temples.
He knew this wasn't his father calling. It couldn't be; it wouldn't be. It was Riko or one of Riko's lackeys playing a sick joke. Riko would know by now that the Foxes had made it to the fourth round. His attempt to rattle Neil with that countdown had failed. Neil knew that was the logical explanation, but it still took him until the fourth ring before he could answer.