Heart of stone camp bexl.., p.28
Heart of Stone (Camp Bexley), page 28
“Does it matter?” Coach quirks a brow as his dry tone grates against my ego. “You’re free to walk. Your record is clean. You get another chance to fuck it all up. Congratulations, Kingston.”
Instinct kicks in, and I want to gloat. That growing pit in my stomach has already shrunk back down to nothing, and a rush of adrenaline takes its place at the thought of avoiding yet another lawful consequence for my actions.
“Are you smiling?”
Coach’s enraged voice breaks through my thoughts, and my lips flatten back down as I meet his deadly gaze. I swallow my glee as he slams a hand against the glass door and swings it open, allowing me to walk out first.
I step outside, squinting and raising a hand to shield my eyes from the sun. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Noon.”
I detect annoyance in his tone, and I flip him a gaze and quirk a brow. “It was just past midnight when they threw me in here. You’re just getting me now?”
“Yeah, I know. Shitty of me, right?” Coach glares. “Figured I’d let you sleep it off first.” He jabs a finger toward his shiny red Range Rover. “Get in.”
Balko drove last night, but my guess is Coach already knows that since he’s headed in the direction of my home. That asshole was probably the one who ratted me out. Annoyance stirs through me. Payback will be a bitch.
I try to ignore Coach’s cool silent treatment as he drives us through the city streets toward the 520 bridge. I know the man well enough to understand just how serious his silence is. This isn’t an after-the-game-we-lost kind of fury where he rips us a new one in the locker room. This isn’t a screaming match on the football field when we run a drill that fails to match his expectations. This could mean something much, much worse.
I shift away as if the physical movement will erase my thoughts. Facing the outdoors, I roll down the window to feel the wind smack my face, providing alertness I should have felt last night before it all went sideways. I seem to always find myself in this dark place. Not here, physically, not even with Coach. He rarely interferes with his players’ behavior off the field. But that doesn’t erase my list of bad decisions. They’re stacking up so high that I can’t even see over the top anymore. Something tells me this last stunt might just be the one that makes the whole stack topple over.
Guilt isn’t something I feel often, but I feel a pang of it now. Why should I feel guilty when I’ve only ever been trying to survive? I came from nothing and was practically raised by wolves, and I overcame it all to lead a life most others would die to have. Sure, I go off the rails sometimes, but that has nothing to do with my game. I shake my head, clearing the guilt and replacing it with my most lethal weapon. Determination.
“Tell me something, Kingston. Why do you want to play ball?”
I’m so focused on my own thoughts that I almost miss Coach’s question. When I register what he asked, I turn to face him, my brows knitting in the center. “Same as everyone on the team. I love the game. And I’m the best at what I do. I’ve worked damn hard to get here.”
Coach nods. “No one can argue any of those things. But why did you work so hard to get here? I want to know what drives you.”
For some reason, his question throws me off guard. I stumble over my thoughts for a few seconds, coming up empty by the time Coach speaks again.
“C’mon, King. It’s not a hard question. Is it the money? Is it the celebrity status? Is it the women? Pick one.”
My gut reaction is to tell Coach that none of those answers are my reason, but any answer I spit out will be a lie. The truth is, I’ve never had to think that hard about it before. I just know I love football. Isn’t that enough?
“I don’t know what to tell you, Coach. You’re asking me this for a reason, and I’m not sure I can give you the answer you want to hear. I play ball because I’m good at it. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at. The adrenaline rush is a great feeling, the money is spectacular, and the women are a sweet bonus, but I’m not sure any of that is what drove me to start playing the game.”
Coach nods again. “Figured as much.”
That’s all he says until he parks in the driveway of my Lake Washington home. An awkward silence follows as my hand slowly reaches for the door handle. I’ve never been one for formalities, and the tension billowing through the air only makes me want to exit the vehicle as fast as possible. Before I can make a move to exit, the engine shuts off completely.
Shit.
Coach shifts, turning to face me. “I think it’s time you figured out why you want to play ball.”
After getting my drunk ass kicked and getting thrown in jail, I thought the last thing Coach would be concerned about was my desire to play football. “Um, sure. Okay.” I don’t know what else to say.
Coach rolls his eyes and settles his stern gaze back on me. “Let me say it this way. I will never again do what I did for you today. Do you understand me? It’s not my job to bail you out of jail. Nor is it my job to take advantage of my connections to clear you of your misdemeanor. While the crime may be minor, the publicity you managed to avoid should be considered yet another blessing in your life. If you’re not careful, you’re going to run out of those blessings, Kingston. No one will be there to clean up after your messes, and you won’t have a home on the field to come back to.”
Something twists inside me as anger and fear swarm my mind. “It will never happen again, Coach. I swear to you.” I shake my head, feeling suddenly desperate to forget the events of last night.
Coach nods. “I believe that you mean that. I also expect that you can understand that I’ll need to take some steps into ensuring the reputation of our team. We start practices in a little over a month, and I hope you can be there with us.”
I hope you can be there with us. Never have words haunted me so much. Heat blasts my chest while I temper my tone. “What does that mean?”
“What do you think it means?” he fires back.
There’s a fiery ball in my chest that threatens to explode. The only way I know how to diffuse it is to walk away, but I can’t walk away from this. This is my life. My livelihood. The only fucking thing in my life that has ever felt right. Still, I want to do anything but continue this conversation. Suddenly, the only thing I love in this life feels threatened, and no amount of confidence I have in my career can help me. I’ve never felt the weight of my future so heavy on my shoulders.
“I don’t know, Coach. I fucked up last night. What’s new? But what does it matter? Last night has nothing to do with football.”
“Last night has everything to do with football, King. That’s where you seem to be lost, and it’s time we set things straight.”
Coach doesn’t have to yell for me to feel his wrath. It’s a smack in the face, and I hear him loud and clear. “What do you want from me? Some kind of agreement that I won’t fuck up again? I’ll do it if that’s what you want.”
Coach tilts his head. “I had a different idea. Well, it’s Zach’s idea, actually.”
I frown as confusion makes its way through me. Zachary Ryan is Seattle’s team captain, and he’s extremely close with Coach. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that they talked, but the question slips past my lips anyway. “Zach knows about this?”
“He does, and I’m going to leave you in his hands with what comes next.”
“Huh?” My eyes dart between his. “What comes next?”
“You’ll find out tomorrow at five a.m. when Zach picks you up. Just have a duffel packed with some stuff to hold you over for a while. Workout gear, mostly.”
“A while? How long is that, exactly?”
“Not sure yet. Let’s start with one month and see how it goes from there.”
My jaw drops with so much force, I can feel the stretch that comes with my shock. “One month? But, Coach—”
“I trust you’ll make it work without complaint. Just be ready to go.”
My mouth snaps shut as I try to make sense of what’s happening, but I can’t for the life of me come to any positive conclusions. “Okay.” I draw the word out slowly before Coach nods for me to exit his vehicle.
“Five a.m. tomorrow,” Coach repeats through his open window as he’s backing out of my driveway. “We’ll talk again when you get back.”
He drives off without another glance, leaving me standing in the wake of my bad decisions. Whatever Coach and Zach have planned, I have a feeling I’m about to pay.
CHAPTER TWO
“They’re almost here.” My coworker, Hope, practically squeals the words as she charges into my office.
I look up from the stack of immunization records I was reviewing to find my friend’s normally light skin flushed and her brown eyes big and bright. Smiling, I press my hands on my desk and tilt my head in amusement. “They? The campers don’t arrive until Monday.”
She lets out a laugh and plants herself in the nearest chair. “No, not them. The Seattle players and that creative agency who host this whole thing. They like to come in a few days early for the initial setup, remember?”
I really should remember, seeing as this will be the third year the team has held their football camp at Camp Dakota. What started out as a one-week anti-bullying fundraising event quickly grew thanks to its popularity. For one month, Camp Dakota, along with BelleCurve Creative and the Seattle football team, hosts a month-long camp. Each week, we welcome new groups of kids and Seattle players. At the end of each week, there’s a scrimmage tournament to crown a team winner during the final ceremony.
“I guess I forgot. We see new groups every week. How do you expect me to remember a silly football event?”
Hope lets out an audible groan at my silence. “Seriously, Silver. How long have you lived here now?”
“At camp or in Washington?”
“Both.”
I ease back into my chair and take my time to respond, choosing my words carefully. Hope has only worked at Camp Dakota for the past year, and while she’s quickly become my best friend, there’s still a lot she doesn’t know about me. “Eight years.”
Something swirls in my gut at my mention of the length of time I’ve lived here, but I shove it aside quickly.
“Well,” Hope says, not missing a beat. “Then there’s no excuse. You should be a crazed Seattle fan like the rest of us by now.”
I avert my eyes and begin to clean up the paperwork spread over my desk. “Not going to happen. I’ve never been into sports.”
“What? Why?”
I shrug. “It’s just not my thing. But give me a sprained arm to sling or an open cut to clean, and I’m your gal.” Hope studies me in a way that makes me laugh with unease, causing me to narrow my gaze. “What?”
She lets out a heavy sigh. “Sometimes I just want to shake you. You need to live a little. Step outside of your comfort zone. Experience new things.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “I’m doing just fine, trust me.”
“Maybe, but you’re so career minded, it scares me.”
With a big dramatic roll of my eyes, I sigh. That’s the thing about studying medicine—no one outside of the field could possibly understand. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. And there’s nothing wrong with being focused on my career. I didn’t get an advanced nursing degree for nothing. I’ve worked really hard to get the head nurse position here after studying under Miriam Bexley for four years. I want to do her proud. I want to do the Bexleys proud.”
The Bexleys have successfully owned and run Camp Dakota for two decades. I owe them everything for offering me a job and home when I came to them with zero experience. But I’m not about to get into all of that with Hope right now. “Anyway,” I say, tilting my head. “Why are we talking about this? Because I don’t care for football?”
Hope lets out a groan. “No, because you aren’t freaking ecstatic that some of the hottest men on the planet are about to step foot in our camp. Aren’t you at least a little bit curious about them?”
“No need to be curious.” I pick up one of the closed envelopes on my desk and hold it up. “I’m already up to speed on all of their medical records. Twelve Seattle players are coming this week, and trust me, there’s more information in this folder than you could ever find on their trading cards.”
Hope’s mouth falls open, and she lurches toward my desk, reaching for the envelope.
I yank it out of reach. “Oh no,” I say with a grin. “That’s confidential.”
She lets out a frustrated scream. “You’re such a tease. I’m so jealous. You know who’s coming this week. You know everything about them.” Her eyes widen. “Just imagine if one of them gets hurt.” She looks up at the ceiling and sighs. “You’ll get to tend to their wounds.” Her gaze lands back on mine before a blush spreads across her cheeks. “Maybe you should teach me CPR. Just in case.”
A laugh bursts past my lips, and I stand. “You’re ridiculous. These forms are just a formality, but they’re of no use to me. They’re bringing in a sports physician from Orcas Island Hospital to help me with the kids, but the professional players will just be here to coach. I never see them in my office.”
I can practically hear the excitement deflating from Hope’s chest. “Well, damn. I probably won’t see them much, either, since I’m not working any of the field activities.”
Hope is the activities director who’s usually put in charge of team-building activities during events like this. Her disappointment hits my chest with a pang. From the moment I met her, I knew she had a huge heart. “Well, you never know. Maybe you can strut by the field every so often and lock eyes with one of these hotties. Maybe you’ll score a date.” I raise my brows and wiggle them to get her to laugh.
“Or maybe we can double.” She waggles her brows back at me, this time causing me to break out in a smile of my own.
“Sorry. You’re on your own there. I don’t date the guests.”
She folds her arms across her chest and studies me. “Yeah, yeah, I know your rules, but you’re telling me you wouldn’t for a single minute consider one of these gorgeous men, even for a little fling?”
“And what would the point in that be? Most of them will be gone in a week.”
Her lids widen as she stares back at me like I’m insane. “Sex, Silver. The point is sex. It’s possible to have fun with a man you don’t intend to marry, especially when you’re not currently having sex at all.”
“Geez, you act like I’m some kind of prude. Tim and I broke up a month ago.”
She gives a dismissive wave of her hand. “He doesn’t count. His dick was probably as small as that tiny pea brain of his. I’m so glad Miriam fired his ass after what he did to you.”
I shrug. “It’s fine. I figured out soon enough he wasn’t the one.”
Hope tilts her head. “Because you, my friend, do not have a tiny pea brain. Your brain, in fact, is too big for your body, and it’s time to give it the day off.” She holds out a hand. “Come with me?”
“What?” I laugh. “To where?”
“To greet the bus, like we always do.”
I burst out with a laugh. “When do we ever greet the chaperones?” I shake my head, not giving her a chance to argue. “I don’t have time for this right now. There are kids who still need to turn in their immunization records. I need to make some phone calls to their parents, and…”
The look she gives me next cuts me. “Silver,” she says sternly.
“Hope,” I say right back.
She sighs. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
I give the girl credit. Out of all the years I’ve lived at the camp, no one has ever pushed me the way Hope has. While I try to resist her charms at every turn, I can admit that her adventurous nature has rubbed off on me a little bit.
I cringe while leaning my head back in frustration. “Geez. Okay, fine. I’ll go just so you won’t hold it over my head.”
“Smart girl.” She grins and hops to her feet. “I’ll meet you out front.”
After taking a minute to tidy up, I close and lock my office door. Then I cross the examination room toward the main entrance of the cabin. It’s a small workspace, but it’s perfectly fitting for my needs. The former head nurse, Miriam, whom I assisted, always kept me in the front room. I would greet kids and evaluate injuries, then she would come in to give the final assessment—both for me and the patients. She was always testing me, critiquing my performance, and adding to my training. The day she finally retired and left camp, it felt like someone pulling a crutch away from me. But it only took a few months to realize I could, in fact, walk on my own.
“Morning, ladies,” Anderson Bexley calls out as he strolls by my office, probably on his way to greet our guests.
“Morning, Anderson,” Hope and I chime back in unison.
Detecting the flirtatious tone in Hope’s voice, I snap my head to her and narrow my eyes. “Obvious much?”
She shrugs, looking slightly annoyed, while her eyes are pinned on the man increasing his distance from us. “Doesn’t matter. Anderson doesn’t even see me.”
Unfortunately, I know all too well that her feelings are justified. Anderson is just as career minded as me. We’ve always had that in common.
“Yeah, well, if it makes you feel better, I know he’s overwhelmed right now. He’s taken on a lot for his parents while his siblings are off living their lives around the world. Sometimes, I wonder if he feels stuck.”
She quirks a brow at me. “Like you? Geez, you two would be perfect together.”
I make a face. “Gross, no. Anderson is practically my brother. And I’m not stuck here. I choose to be here. There’s a big difference.”
The moment the words are out of my mouth, I regret saying them. I don’t have to look at my friend to see the gears of curiosity churning in her brain.
