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)
"Nicky," Andrew said, "get Coach."
Nicky bolted. Neil elbowed Matt as hard as he could. Matt cursed as he lost his grip on Neil. Neil ran back to his locker, skidding a little as he got closer. He had to catch himself on the neighboring locker to keep from falling. As soon as he had his balance he frantically unloaded everything piece by piece. He couldn't tell his Home and Away jerseys apart anymore. Even the padding on his armor was wrecked. Neil picked his helmet up and turned it to watch blood slide off the hard plastic face guard.
"Neil?" Matt asked.
Neil dropped the helmet to the pile at his feet and punched the back of his locker. His fist hit plastic instead of metal, and Neil wrenched the broken bag off its hook. When he turned to throw it Andrew caught his wrist. Neil hadn't even heard Andrew cross the room toward him. Neil stared at him and through him, heart pounding in his temples.
"It's ruined," Neil said, voice ragged with an awful rage. "It's all ruined."
Wymack burst into the room with Nicky on his heels. The sight of so much blood stopped him short for a moment before he strode for Neil. "Is that yours?"
"Coach, my gear," Neil said. "It's—"
"It's not his." Andrew let go of Neil and went back to his own locker. "He's fine."
"Peroxide," Neil said. "Does Abby have any in her office?" When Wymack just looked at him, Neil started for the door to find some himself. Wymack put an arm in his way to stop him. "I need to clean my clothes before the blood sets or I won't have anything to wear tonight."
"And I need you to derail that one-track fucking mind of yours for two seconds and focus on the fact that you are covered in someone or something's blood. Are you okay?"
"Andrew already said I'm fine," Neil bit out.
"I'm not asking Andrew," Wymack said. "I'm asking you."
"Here, I've got an extra towel," Matt said, and dug one out of his open locker. He hurried to the bathroom to soak it in the sink but jerked to a stop as he was turning back to them. His startled voice echoed off the bathroom walls. "What the hell?"
Neil knew better than to look, but he went anyway. Wymack and Andrew were right behind him. Neil followed Matt's gaze to the far wall and felt his stomach bottom out. Written in blood across the tile was a bold message: "Happy 19th Birthday, Jr.".
Neil's head filled with static and screams. The strident mumble in the background was out of place and it took Neil an eternity to realize that sound was coming from his teammates. He understood their anxious tones, but he didn't understand a word they were saying. Fear trailed icy claws over his stomach and crawled up his throat. Neil closed his eyes for two seconds and breathed. He couldn't deal with this now. He couldn't; he wouldn't.
He grabbed the fledgling sense of panic and buried it deep, the same way he'd smothered his broken heart long enough to burn his mother's body. He would have to react to this later, but if he did it now with all of the Foxes as his witnesses he was going to lose everything.
The world came back into focus in jagged pieces, just in time for Neil to hear Wymack mutter something about calling the police. Neil grabbed his elbow before Wymack turned away and squeezed so hard he felt bones creak.
"Coach," he said, as calmly as he could. "You're going to have to leave them out of this one. Okay? Let's just get through the game. I'll clean this up afterward. No one else has to know."
"Give me one good reason not to cancel the game and pull security in here," Wymack said.
"I can't give you that yet," Neil said, slanting a look at him. "I told you to wait until May."
He willed Wymack to remember the promise he'd made on New Year's Eve when Wymack challenged his lies and scars. He hadn't told Wymack he was on the run, but he'd cut it close enough Wymack should have put the pieces together. Neil needed him to remember that now and figure out the obvious: Riko's men wouldn't have left evidence behind, but Neil had prints all over the place.
Wymack said nothing but studied Neil with a disquieting intensity. Neil let go of Wymack and took the wet towel from an unresisting Matt. His lungs felt like they were pulling tight as he crossed the room to his birthday message. He breathed shallowly so as not to set off his gag reflex and scrubbed the letters off the wall. There were enough clean patches on the towel afterward for Neil to wipe his hands off. He came back to the others and dropped the towel in the sink to worry about later.
"Neil," Matt said.
Neil didn't want to hear it. "Change out, Matt."
He went back into the main room and considered his locker. It didn't take long to realize none of his teammates were moving. Matt was still frozen by the sinks. Wymack and Andrew stood in the bathroom doorway. Aaron, Kevin, and Nicky were by their lockers. Neil could feel all eyes on him. He felt like the truth was written on his skin for all of them to see. The message only said "Junior" but he expected someone to call him by his name.
Neil looked around at them and focused on the one most likely to help him salvage this. "Kevin," he said, and continued in French. "Get them moving. We've only got forty minutes until serve."
"Can you play?" Kevin asked.
"I'm pissed off, not injured," Neil snapped. "I'm not going to let this keep us from winning tonight. Are you?"
Kevin considered him for a moment, then turned a caustic look on their teammates. "Get moving. We have a game to win."
"You're joking," Matt said, coming up behind Andrew and looking between the strikers. "You're really going to ignore the fact that this," he stabbed a finger in the direction of Neil's locker, "just happened? Neil, you look like a Carrie stunt double. You don't even want to get security up here while the scene's still fresh?"