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Tossing the phone on the bed, I pull the shirt on that smells like Eli and find underwear. I’ve barely pulled them on when my phone rings. Racing for it, hope blossoming in my chest that it could be Eli, I answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, I’m looking for Asher Vaughn,” a male voice I don’t recognize says.
“That’s me.”
“My name is Stephen, and I’m a nurse in the Mercy Hospital emergency room. Your father is here, and we need you to come in.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. Fuck. What happened to my dad? Fear trickles through my body, frigid and unstoppable.
“What happened?” I rush for the closet to finish getting dressed.
“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t give details over the phone.” The man pauses, and I swear my heart stops.
All the blood drains from my body in a second, leaving me cold and so fucking alone. Dad is the only family I have left; our relationship sucks, but it’s there. This can only be really bad, right?
“Okay, I’m coming from San Diego, so I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thank you. When you get here, just tell the nurse at the desk that you got a call about Mathew Vaughn, and she’ll get you where you need to go.” The line disconnects, and I quickly scroll through my contacts until I find my teammate Aaron’s number. I hit call as I pace the entryway of my house while it rings.
“Asher, my ma—”
“My father’s in the hospital. I need a ride to LA,” I cut him off. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anyone else to call.” That truth is a punch in the gut. I don’t have many friends. We’re friendly, sure, get along all right, but I’m not really close to anyone.
“I’m on my way. Call Coach.” The line goes dead, and I swipe through my contacts until I find the head coach’s number, relieved that he’s willing to help.
“Vaughn, please tell me you haven’t been arrested.”
“My father is in the ER. I’m not sure why, but the hospital just called me. I’m going to LA to see him. I’ll be back before camp starts.” I run my hand through my hair, pulling on the strands as my mind races. What if he dies? That’s what he’s been trying to do for years. Part of me understands now, how desperate he is to be back with Mom, because I feel it myself for Eli. I have no one to handle the estate, if he even left it to me. I have contracts to uphold, and unfortunately, the NFL doesn’t care about your personal problems. During the season, you play unless you’re hurt. Period.
“How are you getting there?” Immediately, he switches into problem-solver mode, and since a lot of the guys are young, the coaches end up stepping into a father role a lot. “Do you have a place to stay arranged already?”
“Aaron Thomlyn is driving me, and yeah, I can stay at my dad’s house.” I find some shoes to slip on and step outside, locking the door behind me, and hurry to the elevator when I get the text from Aaron saying he’s here. “We’re leaving now.”
“All right, keep me updated.”
“Will do. Thanks, Coach.”
I end the call and buckle my seat belt as Aaron gets us back on the street.
“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”
“Of course, man.” He fist-bumps me quickly and finds the I-15 entrance.
My knee is bouncing as I watch out the window. Aaron lets it be quiet, not needing to fill the silence with meaningless chatter. I’m too lost in my head, in the fear and guilt and sadness eating at my insides. Tapping my phone against my thigh, I let myself imagine meeting Eli at the hospital. Being able to count on someone having my back, holding my fucking hand as I deal with whatever is going on with Dad, knowing I can lean on him would be everything. When I lost Mom, I had Eli and Marcus to keep me together. I knew if I strayed too far into the endless depths of grief that they would find me and pull me back to the land of the living.
Who will pull me back now?
Even though I don’t talk to Dad often, I knew he was there. I wasn’t really alone. If he dies, I’ll have no family left. No one.
The knot of emotion burns my throat as I try to keep a lid on it. I don’t know what happened; for all I know, he just fell and broke his leg or something. Maybe he just needs surgery.
“You want to talk about what you’re thinking?” Aaron finally asks after an hour of silence.
“I’m fine.” Fucking liar.
“You can just say no. Don’t lie to me, man.” He taps out a beat on the steering wheel that only he knows.
