First and Goal (Moving the Chains #1) (49 page)

BOOK: First and Goal (Moving the Chains #1)
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Eva’s mom drops to the ground next to him and pulls his head to her chest, rocking him back and forth like a goddamn baby. I can’t figure out why she seems so grateful to Rob; her daughter is dead. Or why Rob’s mom is just letting Eva’s mom comfort him that way.

This whole fucking day can just go fuck itself. Nothing makes sense to me anymore.

After what seems like forever, Eva’s mom gets up and walks back through the double doors. I guess she has to go claim Eva's body and start making preparations for burial. What is it like to say goodbye to someone for the last time? Rob just stays on the ground, looking limp and dazed while silent tears stream down his face.

Mike finally hauls Rob up to his feet, and they trudge back to their chairs. Mom stays with Cindy and Patty, talking quietly. Looking over at Rob and Mike, I have never felt like such an outsider in our little group. Mike has his arm wrapped around Rob’s neck and is talking quietly to him as Rob stares ahead blankly. I doubt he hears a single word Mike is saying to him.

Slender arms wrap around my shoulders as a body takes the seat beside me, and I find Rachel giving me a kind, sympathetic look. I don’t even know where she came from. She takes her hand and wipes my cheeks. I didn’t realize I was crying. She lays her head on my shoulder, squeezing me, and I wrap my arms around her and squeeze back. I feel so fucking useless.

Mom comes back over and sits on my other side. If she thinks the scene with me and Rach is unusual, she doesn’t say anything about it. “Eva’s alive, but in bad shape. She was severely beaten and sustained some serious head trauma, so she’s getting a CAT scan right now while they try to determine the severity of her injuries. She hasn’t regained consciousness yet, and the doctors are worried about brain swelling or bleeding.”

She pauses to let that information sink in. “Rob didn’t break anything. He’ll be able to play out the rest of the season.”

Mom’s voices catches, and I automatically put my other arm around her as she lays her head on my shoulder. She must be thinking what the rest of us are. Rob will play out the rest of the season only if Eva survives.

Jesus fucking Christ. It strikes me that I already know her attacker’s name. Eva said it on Saturday. Jackson. His name was Jackson. Not that the rat bastard deserves to be called anything except dead. Mom didn’t mention anything about him. Not that I think anyone in this room cares.

I glance over at Rob, still sitting there like a dead man walking. Christ, what did he see that asshole do to her? Mom didn’t mention anything about a rape, although I doubt she would, even if it happened. And yeah, Eva was fully dressed in Rob’s arms, but I’m not stupid. I saw the way that guy looked at her in the diner. If I thought finding Jackson’s pulverized corpse on the side of the trail was horrifying. I can’t image what Rob saw when he found them? When he found that bastard beating and raping the woman he loves? Even if Eva makes it without any permanent physical damage, how will either of them recover from this?

A few minutes later, a group of people who must be Eva’s family rushes into the waiting room. I recognize her younger sister, Christina. The elderly couple must be her grandparents, and I guess some aunts, uncles, cousins or whatever. Christina spots Rob though he’s made no indication that he’s seen any of them come in. She flies towards him and throws herself in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and crying like a baby.

Rob never moves. Never puts his arms around her in comfort, never takes his eyes off whatever nightmare is replaying in his head, never says a word. Maybe they should be treating him for shock because that’s just downright cold, especially for him. Everyone knows he’s a big softie in spite of his size.

Eva’s family makes their way towards Rob and Christina. Rob’s mom stands to relay the news she has about Eva’s condition. Some lady that I’m guessing is Eva’s aunt finally pries Christina from Rob’s lap, and they all move to take seats in the waiting area. An older guy who must be Eva’s grandpa bends down in front of Rob, talking to him.

Coach and Gary finally come back in the waiting room from outside. Gary takes one look at Rob’s taped hands and goes off. That guy is one of the biggest dickwads I know. I make a mental note to hug my dad the next time I see him.

Patty moves quickly to intercept him before he can get to Rob and do any real damage. Both he and Coach listen as she speaks. I can tell by the way that Coach looks over at Rob that he understands like the rest of us, this is far from over.

Eva’s grandpa had stepped in front of Rob when Gary started his bullshit, acting like some kind of shield though Rob never registered anything going on around him. Now The old guy says something to Mike, and together they heave Rob out of his seat. They head down the hallway, Rob braced between them, like he’s some sort of toddler. Not sure what good that will do. Rob moves like he’s stuck in a dream.

More like his worst nightmare.

They turn around and are walking back towards the waiting room when a guy wearing a black dress enters in a hurry, nods to Eva’s grandfather, and heads through the double doors. For the first time Rob’s eyes find mine, his face frozen with terror. Being the Catholic boys in the room, we both immediately recognize the collar if not the dress. The priest is either here to administer Last Rites or the Prayers for the Dead. We both turn to look at Jeremy. By his expression, I can tell he saw it too and is on the same page. Oh my God, she isn’t going to make it or she’s already dead.

Untangling myself from the ladies in either of my arms, I head for Rob. Eva’s grandfather whispers something to him just as he starts to shake. Whatever the old guy says must give Rob some sense of peace because he runs a battered hand over his face, his shoulders slumping with either relief or acceptance.

Finally finding the strength that’s escaped me since this fucking tragedy began, I wrap my arms around my brother’s shoulders and hold on with everything I have my raspy voice begins to tumble out a Hail Mary on autopilot. Before I’ve even finished the first line, Jeremy wraps his arms around us, joining in. Eva’s grandfather backs away, and Mike piles on from behind Rob. By the time we’ve finished the Prayer, Rob is the center of the huddle just like on the field. Our team, our friends, all pulling around him with the only thing we have to offer in the middle of his grief. Our loyalty.

I don’t know how long we all stay like that, grouped around Rob. My cheeks feel wet again. Peering around at all the lowered faces, I realize I’m not the only one crying.

When I look at Rob, though, his face is dry, his eyes closed, and his breathing even. He must have finally run out of tears to cry. I don’t even know how the guy’s still standing after this day from hell. What a sick fucking joke that she’s taken away from him on the day that she finally agrees to be his. I have to wonder if praying matters at all. Or If there’s even a God up there to hear us.

I didn’t want to be an author when I grew up. I wanted to be a doctor. When I was little, I made up stories in my head, but I never wrote them down. I drew pictures for the stories instead. My sister and I would play pretend and essentially act out the stories I’d created. She was my very first beta reader. And she still is today. Thank you, “sis,” for believing in me, for telling me that I could do this, and for being the first reader of the pile of crap that became this book. “It’s like a movie in your head!”

Hubs, even though you’ve had to pull more than your fair share of the weight around the house and with the kids, thank you for your support. This would not have happened without you encouraging me that it was time to find my own path as a real-life grown up and move beyond domestic goddess territory. Please, stop folding the laundry. I’ll get to it…as soon as I finish this next chapter.

I couldn’t be anything I am today without my mother. So, even though she swears she will never read my “smut,” thank you, Mom. Volim tebe!

Perhaps the most validating part of this process has been my daughter. We sit side by side at the table every evening, and she works on her laptop while I work on mine. She wants to be a writer when she grows up…just like Mommy. Imitation is truly the sincerest form of flattery. I pray none of my children ever read this, but just in case: I love you. You are my everything. The best things I’ve ever done, and the world is a better place with you three in it. You make me so proud, every single day.

To my CP, Kristy. You are the mistress of stories that whipped my ass into shape from a very early stage, and I am not exaggerating when I say I could not have done this without you. Thank you. For your support, your help, your time, and most especially, your friendship. I can’t promise I’ll never skim another book, but I’ll try.

Keller, I feel I owe you a bottle of Everclear for putting up with all my rants, whining, and tears when things got rough. 2016 is our year! We can do this!!! And I’m not mad at you! (But I will be if you don’t finish BOSH. Give it to me. Give it to me now. Then we have stuff to write, so move it!)

To my editor, Cris, I love you, love you, love you. Your friendship and guidance has been invaluable to me. You took a very raw newbie writer under your wing on the premise of a quick beta for a single chapter and fell down the rabbit hole with me. I can’t thank you enough for your countless hours on this manuscript and so many other little works. Your encouragement has meant the world to me and pushed me to keep going when I felt like giving up! I’m sorry that I love commas so much.

Sexy Ninjas, you keep me sane. I love you all. Our addiction to sports romance threw us all together by complete accident, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ll forever be grateful for everything we’ve been through together, and the lifelong friendships we’ve formed. I can’t wait to read what you’ll do next. Convention in NOLA soon!

To Erika Kelly and Cheryl McIntyre, thank you for giving up your free time on the weekend to come and “talk” with a group of hungry, aspiring writers. Your patience, graciousness, and wisdom will always be treasured. As will your fabulous books!

Thank you to all the bloggers out there who put in so much time and effort to promote and grow the indie community. You’re the centers of this little universe, and reader nor writer alike would be where we are today without you. Special thanks to Obsessed with Romance and Crazy Love 4 Books for putting my name out there…really, really early. I love you all and respect your honest reviews immensely.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you dear reader, for taking a chance on an unknown name and a series that comes out of the gate with a cliffhanger. I promise not to keep you waiting long!

Kata thinks author bios are super fun to read, but anxiety-inducing to write. She’s pretty sure you don’t want to know about her nearly as much as you think you do. She’s honestly rather boring which is why she lives vicariously through stories. Shoot her an email or tweet. Ask for a character bio. She’d like to think she’s pretty good at that. Or better yet, give her a character bio and let her puzzle out who it is. She loves random stuff like that.

 

 

Come find me! It’s like Where’s Waldo, but I’m Kata…and not hiding.

 

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First and Goal
Playlist

If you recognized the chapter titles, then congratulations! You are a music junkie after my own heart! Originally this book had no chapter titles other than the POV headings. But music is such a huge part of my life. There are scenes that weren’t included in the final version of the book that were entirely inspired by songs. So I thought to myself, “Hey self, why don’t you just give each chapter its own musical theme?” Easier said than done. While some scenes were written thanks to music, not all of them were. Each chapter has its own feel and emotion, so choosing the right song to fit the mood was a labor love that took HOURS. And several rewrites. I hope you enjoy this playlist. The rest of the series will follow the same suit, so hang onto your earbuds…there’s more to come!

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