She nods. “Yeah. I’ve gathered that. Unfortunately, Mister Grayson, I can’t let you back there. The NFA is very strict about protocol in these situations, and you aren’t listed in Reinhart’s file as a next-of-kin or emergency contact.”
“I’m his partner!” you interject furiously. “Nobody else is here for him!”
“I know who you are,” she says dryly. “Unfortunately, it’s out of my hands. I’m not the one making the call here. I’m not trying to single you out. We’re in touch with his family, of course. It’s just a black-and-white situation.”
“This isn’t a normal fucking situation!” The outburst happens before you can hold it back.
She raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. The silence speaks volumes. Anger and a sense of mounting futility and vying for space in your overcrowded skull, beating against your temples. You can feel yourself gritting your teeth.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Venzino,” you grit out tersely. “But is there someone else I can talk to?”
She blinks at you, and her lashes, which are glued together by dry, thick caked-on mascara, flutter like spider legs. “Who would you like to talk to, exactly?”
It’s as if a team of Clydesdale horses are tap-dancing across your skull. “I want to talk to Coach Beausoleil.”
She barks out a laugh. “Mister Grayson, please don’t take this the wrong way…”
You arefullyprepared to take it the wrong way.
“...But this isn’t some mucky-muck Hollywood restaurant where you can speak to the manager and stomp your foot and kick up a fuss. Coach Beausoleil is on thefield. Coaching aprofessionalfootball game. Even if he wanted to disrupt the game thattwo millionpeople are watching at home, he couldn’t change the rules, either. I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do here, Mister Grayson. I’m going to have to ask you to clear the corridor.”
If you didn’t know better, you’d swear that she was enjoying this. Fifteen years of media training, combined with your innate Yankee emotional control, are about to fly out the fucking window. You aren’t sure whether you are going to pass out or throw yourself on the sticky concrete floor like a toddler. Just when your throbbing headache is about to make the decision for you, Brett—Brett! That absolute angel!—reaches over your shoulder and grabs the door that Michelle is about to slam in your face.
“Are you taking Reinhart to the hospital, ma’am?” he asks.
“Yes,” she says. “The ambulance is on its way.”
“What hospital?” Brett asks.
“I’m not at liberty to…”
“They can’t stop you from following the ambulance,” Brett says, turning to you. “Thank you, ma’am. You’ve beensohelpful.”
You are about to thank Brett from the bottom of your heart when the unmistakable sound of Cal’s size-17 Toscana Italian leather dress shoes approaching catches your attention. You lower your shoulders and prepare to defend yourself against the onslaught of your head bodyguard’s wrath.
“Cal,” you start. “I’ll explain later. We’ve got to…”
“You’ve got problems,” he announces flatly. Which wasn’t what you were expecting at all. You must be looking at him blankly, dumb with anxiety and stress, when he hitches a thumb over his shoulder and turns sideways so you can look down the hallway behind his massive body.
Your eyes track the length of the hall slowly, and stop in horror when you see what he was indicating.
A knot of people are gathered at the other end, some standing on tiptoes to gawk over one another. Maybe a dozen of them, all in the dark glasses and schlubby clothes that screampaparazzi. They have cameras with extended lenses and there are even two boom mics. Strangely, they are silent, as if they don’t want to disturb the show that you have just put on for them.
Where did they come from?
Did they buy tickets to the fucking game?
DID THEY JUST SEE EVERYTHING?
…this is gonna be bad.
“Oh, fuck,” you mumble. Distantly, you hear the sound of the approaching ambulance coming for Kai—the ambulance that you are definitely going to miss.
Chapter Ten
NFA Star Kaius “The Train” Reinhart Injured -- SEE PHOTOS! (NSFW)
MIAMI GARDENS, FL: Miami Cyclones star defensive end Kaius Reinhart was brutally injured yesterday afternoon in a preseason showdown against the Tampa Terriers. According to Cyclones medical staff, Reinhart sustained a severe concussion at the hands of Tampa LT Julian Tamatoa and was removed from the game, which the Cyclones went on to win 20-17. The Cyclones have gone on record saying that Reinhart will miss the first four games of the regular season. Team physician Joaquim Nicolau confirmed that Reinhart had not yet been released from the hospital and was undergoing a full battery of neurological testing, although it’s anticipated that he will be sent home by this evening. Reinhart’s family released a statement thanking the public for their concern and asking for prayers for his full recovery.
