Jayson stared into Piper’s eyes, not sure where the comment had come from and decided to ignore it.
He said the weather would be clear for the flight back home. He said the car would take Piper to the airport at one and then left the kitchen.
Something had happened the night before and he knew it had. His body had rejected the lie it had spent nine years believing.
He didn’t cry. He would never cry. He chose this life; he signed the fucking contract. Noah was a variable that was changing everything. He needed to end it before this all turned to scorched earth.
Chapter Thirty: Los Angeles
The plane landed around 3 p.m.
Piper took a car home. The 405 was loose enough that day that they were at the house in twenty minutes.
His phone buzzed, he looked down at it, fuck, he thought. It was Donna Ashton, the first text in months. Pip, sweetie, I am more than ready to leave this hellscape. Sober people are such bores. Don’t tell Jayson I texted you. Have you talked to Alexis? There was no how are you Piper? No good luck in Atlanta, it was all about Donna all the time. He had not talked to his twin sister, Alexis, in years.
Noah had sent seven messages that Piper didn’t open. They would hurt too much to read.
Practice was early the next day and he needed to be clocked in.
***
The arm felt fine on the field. The legs felt fine. The timing with Tank on the slant routes was where it had been before he left, which was to say: clean and automatic.
The ribs were still sore but seemed to be showing slight improvement. Piper knew he should have been resting instead of taking an unscheduled work trip to Atherton but he had no choice in the matter.
Tank, jogging back from a route, said, “You don’t look good, bro.”
“Dude, I am fucking fine.”
“That’s a fucking lie, but okay,” Tank said it without looking at him and kept moving.
The coaching staff didn’t ask where he had been; they had been informed by Jayson, a league shareholder, that Piper was needed for an event. That was one of the things Jayson’s powerbought: a class of people around Piper who had been informed, and who therefore didn’t ask. It was efficient. It was also, Piper knew, not free.
Practice ran long, next up was Atlanta and they were playing lights out. He showered in the facility and headed home to pack yet again.
***
When he got home, Piper caved and started to read Noah’s texts. The first was a selfie of him in a towel. The rest were GIFs that made Piper laugh and also devastated him that they would need to end.
The sixth said, You alive? I miss you.
The seventh said, Not worried yet. Getting there.
Piper sat at the kitchen island looking at the thread. He typed,Confirmed, I am Alive.
He watched the three dots appear. They disappeared. They appeared again. They disappeared again.
Noah wrote: Finally, you had me worried. Can we talk?
Piper should have written back and he knew that.
Last week he would’ve written more, a joke, a line about practice, amiss you,aReal HousewivesGIF.
He did not send any of these things. He didn’t send it on purpose.
Distance, Piper figured, was something you did to protect another person you deeply cared for.
He went into the living room and sat down but didn’t turn on the television.
