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“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Don’t think I’ll fuck it up. I won’t.” I wanted to point out that he’d just said my playing was stronger this game: case and point.
“Go wash up. You can’t see her smelling like ass.” He gave me a lopsided smile.
Laughing, I walked away, then I realized that I had forgotten to tell him to thank his wife for the sheets and bedspread. I turned toward him, walking backward. “Hey, Coach! I wanted to—” My body jerked back. “What the fuck?” As blood spurted from my left shoulder, my life played before me in slow motion. Confused, I looked at Coach. The smile slipped off his face and his eyes widened.
“Whitlock!” Coach bolted in my direction, the other coaches right behind him.
I slapped a palm over my wound, staring at the blood trickling down my hand and arm. Reality flickered in and out as my world blurred, then it faded to black.
ChapterThirty-One
Ariana
Ipaced the hospital hall, pleading with the universe to save Jagger. He couldn’t die. I just found him again. My head throbbed, and my swollen eyes burned from crying. Blowing out a shaky breath, I tried to inhale past the crushing agony in the center of my chest but I couldn’t.
I stared at the waiting room with shoulder to shoulder football players and several of the cheerleaders. Coach was making rounds and talking to his team. He glanced up and made his way into the hall, joining me.
He pushed up the sleeves of his burgundy sweatshirt, his expression filled with concern. “He’s strong, Ariana.”
Since Coach had never met me, I used my real name to introduce myself. A part of me wanted to announce to the world that I wasn’t Phoebe Jenkins but thought better of it. My boyfriend had been shot in the shoulder in a wide-open space with people around. It was too risky.
“I hope so. I don’t understand how it happened.” I did, kind of, but I couldn’t admit that to Coach.
“How long have you known Jagger?”
Which answer should I give him? “We reconnected recently.” Maybe that response would appease him, but it was also vague enough. The last thing I needed was for him to say something to Samantha.
“I contacted his parents. They should be here soon.”
Shit!I’d been so terrified that he would die that the thought of calling Dad never crossed my mind. I had the support of my friends. I didn’t need his kind of support that was filled with lies and half-truths.
“Thanks.”
“When he pulls through surgery, he’ll need to understand that he’s out for most of the season, if not all of it. We’ll have to see what recovery looks like. A shot to the shoulder could have killed him. Thank God the ambulance was still on standby after the game.”
“I think he would have bled out if the EMTs hadn’t acted fast.” I shuddered at the idea. It had freaked me the hell out when I saw Jagger unconscious and bleeding all over the side of the football field.
“Yeah. We would have lost him. But something gives me the feeling that you’re what he’ll be holding onto.”
I could feel the flush creep up my neck and cheeks, betraying any lie on the tip of my tongue.
“Ah, you’re the girl he mentioned.” Coach rubbed his lightly stubbled jaw. “Support Jagger the best you can. He’ll need you to help him stay positive.”
“I will. I’ll take care of him when he’s released from the hospital, too.” My stomach flip-flopped with the possibility that he wouldn’t make it home. Instead, I would be attending his funeral for real. I wrangled the negative thoughts and reined them in. There was no use entertaining any ideas except that Jag would live.
“Do you think his shot at the NFL is over?” An ache spread through my chest.
“I sure as hell hope not, but I’m no doctor. I have no idea what the damage is in his shoulder.”
I blanched as nausea bubbled up inside me. “That would destroy him. He loves football. It’s his entire life.”
“I know. It’s also kept him out of trouble. I’m not sure what he’s lived through, but it’s clear that it haunts him. The field is a good place for him to work out his aggression.”
At least I understood that Jagger had never confided in Coach about his past. “I have no idea what to expect with his recovery, but I’ll support him any way I can.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” Coach stared through the window into the recovery room. “The cops are here. I should answer some questions for them. I’ll be around if you need anything, though.”
“Thanks.” I followed Coach and spotted Teagan, Everlee, Leighton, and Gabby. The girls refused to leave me alone at the hospital, and I was grateful for them.
