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“How badly is he hurt,” I ask, my voice shaking.
“Maybe a broken rib or two, they’re taking images now.”
“Is this because we won?” It’s not just because he played so well and knocked them out of a playoff run. Sure, that’s probably part of it. But it isn’t the entirety.
“Cillian said the men were slinging slurs at Alexander,” Damian answers, confirming my thoughts. “Some local press is here.”
That changes things. Denial is still an option, as is not commenting at all. But the speculation will swirl more than it has before. It may only be local journalists there now, but national sports broadcasts will hear about it quickly.
“You’re at the hospital, too?”
“I am, so are a few of the other guys. Your father too, he’s going to make a statement when one is prepared by team management. Alexander spoke to the GM before they took him for the X-ray.”
Callie is in tears now, not knowing what’s going on but understanding enough to know it isn’t good. Kit wraps an arm around her, comforting her until I can explain to them further.
“Shit, okay. You’ll call me when you know more?”
“Of course, beautiful.”
“I’m going to fill Callie in.”
“Okay,” he says. “She knows, by the way, about all of us.”
“Oh.” Zan hadn’t told me, but we haven’t had a lot of time to talk away from Callie. “Okay, good to know.”
“We’ll be home tomorrow,” Damian says. “I’ll keep you informed. Love you, Willa.”
“I love you, too.”
I take a long, deep steadying breath.
“Where’s Zan,” Callie asks, tears clogging her throat.
“He’s at a hospital in Houston getting some X-rays. He may have a broken rib,” I say to her. “Some men attacked him after the game. Damian and Cillian are staying with him.” I explain what little I know and tell her Damian is going to keep us informed until they all get home tomorrow. She’s inconsolable though, breaking down into a fit of sobs. All I can do is guide her to the couch and pet her head until she cries herself back to sleep.
I’m not so old that I don’t remember what it’s like to be her age. Everything is extra emotional, and your nerves are on high alert. With everything she’s been through with her parents and the move, this is the iceberg that sunk her ship.
I switch my phone over to vibrate in the hopes it won’t wake her as easily when I get more notifications, and I pull a blanket up over her to keep her warm while she sleeps with her head in my lap.
Damian texts to tell me it’s only one bruised rib. Cillian texts to let me know the rest of the guys are only bruised and cut up. Except Blom, our goalie, who Cill says went absolutely feral. He has a broken nose but says it’s a trophy for breaking one of the attackers’ jaws.
People underestimate how unhinged goalies are.
Cillian also tells me all seven men who attacked have been arrested and the league attorneys have been apprised of the situation. He and Damian are staying at the hospital until Zander is released, then they’ll try for a few hours of sleep before catching the flight home.
I try to do the same, curling up as best I can on the sofa with Callie. My bed sounds great, but I don’t want to disturb her.
She wakes me up early in the morning by gently shaking my shoulder.
“Z says they are about to board the plane.”
“Oh, good. Did you talk to him?”
“He sent a text, I saw it when I woke up,” she says, shaking her head. “Why did they do this, Willa?”
Tears still pool in her eyes, now bloodshot from a night of crying. Her hair is a messy brunette nest atop her head, and she wraps a blanket around herself like it will offer some kind of security.
“Come here, kiddo,” I say, holding my arms out for her to come sit with me. When she’s settled, I tell her the truth. “I think it was mostly because their team lost. But they targeted your brother because of the rumors of his sexuality.”
