Reckless: A Bad Boy Sport Romance (68 page)

I was never too fond of hospitals, but the dim hallways, dark windows, and lack of activity at night was making my balls shrink.

I walked up to the nurses' station, clearing my throat. The gangly nurse in pink scrubs glanced up from the desktop. His short ponytail bounced as he jumped to his feet.

“Hey, Nurse Tim, right?”

“Mr. Kelly.” He looked around me as if to check if the coast was clear. “How can I help you? Carrie isn't here. She went home for some clean clothes, but she should be back later.”

“That's alright. I just thought I'd pop in to Jackson's room real quick. Got him a couple of things for when he wakes up.” I lifted the bag in my hands.

“I'm afraid visiting hours is over, Mr. Kelly,” Nurse Tim replied anxiously, pulling at the neck of his scrubs. “Only immediate family members are allowed in the patients' rooms after 9.”

“Thing is, I heard about the media frenzy here this morning, and I'm trying to avoid that. I won't even be a minute. Just wanna check in on the little guy and drop this off. In and out. You have my word.”

Nurse Tim rubbed the back of his neck. I could see him debating with himself as his eyes shot from side to side. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh.

“Okay, but you gotta be quick.” He tapped his fingers on the edge of the table. “I'd go in there with you, but I need to finish up this report. So please, don't be seen. Jackson's room is down that hallway. Fifth door on your left.”

“Gotcha. Thanks.”

I crept down the hallway, doing my best to keep my 6'2” self as low key as possible. Stopping at the fifth door, I knocked on the door 3 times before letting myself in. When I got in there, though, there were no signs of Jamie.

The door clicked shut behind me. The beeps of the machines were the only sounds that broke the silence in the room; it was even thicker in here than it was outside. I walked towards Jackson, setting the bag down next to his bed.

The lady at the book store stuffed the bag with all the dinosaur-themed items the store carried – kids books, picture books, coloring books, puzzles, you name it. I was riding high on hope that Jackson was going to pull through his coma in no time, but now that I was actually here, looking down at him, I wasn't so sure.

Jackson's small frame was barely half the size of the bed. The breathing apparatus was so big it had to be strapped onto his face twice. Tubes were hooked up to his arms, and this white thing was clipped on to one of his fingers. And when I saw Kingson tucked under one of his motionless arms, my throat closed up a little.

This brilliant kid was restless with life the last time I saw him, so seeing him in this state was like a fucking punch to the gut. He seemed to have lost some weight, and his hair seemed thinner. His cheeks were sunken but sweaty, and his face discolored, with a kind of yellowish tint to it. Even so, it was clear the kid was far from giving up. There was steady movement behind his eyelids, and I even caught his nose twitching twice.

As I turned to leave the room, I paused. I frowned, cocking my head to the side. Jackson's nails had these weird white stripes and spots on them. When I leaned in to get a closer look, my phone started buzzing in my pocket. I quickly ducked out of the room to answer it.

“
Sweetheart? Can you hear me?
”

“Yeah, Mom, what's up?” I moved to the end of the hallway.

“
Where are you? It's getting pretty late. Your father and I came all this way to see you. Don't you think you should be spending more time with us?
”

“Yeah, sorry. I'll be home soon – there was just something I needed to take care of.”

“
Okay, well, have you eaten yet? Your father and I are heading to bed in about an hour, and if you're hungry, there's some leftover ribs and asparagus sitting on the stove. Just heat it up.
”

“Sounds great, Mom. Thanks. You need me to get anything else on my way home?”

“
If you could find me some peach cobbler Guayusa tea, that would be splendid. I want them in tea bags, none of that loose stuff. I'm not a barbarian.”

“It's half past 10. I was thinking something along the lines of milk or eggs. You know, something plausible.”

“
Well, I suppose some kind of herbal tea is fine. It's not what I would have preferred, but I suppose it'll have to do.”

“Alright, I'll see what I can come up with. Night, Mom.”
“
Night, honey. You drive safe.”

I hung up and pocketed my phone. As I started back down the hallway, I spied a shadow moving around under Jackson's door. I knocked again and poked my head through the door, deciding to give Jamie a quick holler about the gifts I'd just left.

“Hey, Jamie –”

I straightened up in the doorway. My eyes bugged out, drinking it all in. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

Jamie was hovering over Jackson's bed with her back turned to me. She was messing with his IV tube with a syringe in her hands. A glass amber bottle with a faded label on it was sitting on the nightstand. Before she could push down that plunger, I sprang into the room.

“Jamie. What are you doing?”

Jamie jerked back in surprise. She slipped the syringe and amber bottle back into her jeans pockets. Looking back at me, her face and lips were pasty white. The black-and-white portrait of 2-year-old Jackson on her left bicep gleamed under the nightlight. Seeing it suddenly made my gut churn.

“Kingsley! Wha – what are you doing here?”

I slid into the room, closing the door behind me carefully.

“I was just in here a few minutes ago, but you weren't around.” My mind was racing, but I needed to stay cool. I motioned to the bag on the other side of Jackson's bed. “Wanted to drop off a couple of gifts for Jackson, and to check in on how you all were doing.”

“That is so sweet of you!” Jamie tried to act like nothing had happened, but her voice was getting shriller with every word. She went around the bed and started rifling through the bag. “Oh, Jackson is going to love these! You really have a knack for –”

“What were you doing, Jamie?”

“What do you mean?” Jamie hemmed loudly. She pulled off her hair tie and redid her bun, but she wouldn't make eye contact with me.

“I was looking right at you, Jamie.” Her decision to play dumb really sealed the deal for me. My hands balled into fists, but I still kept my voice as level as I could.

“Oh, that,” said Jamie, laughing lightly. “That was just some of Jackson's medication –”

“Really? 'Cause when I paid for Jackson's medication, I don't remember seeing anything other than some pills. But then again, I could be wrong.”

“You are wrong. It's something new Dr. Wang wanted to try out.” Jamie dropped her phony smile.

“Ah, I see. Now correct me if I'm wrong again, but shouldn't the nurses be taking care of that?” I stood my ground, watching her like a hawk.

“You're stepping way out of line, here, Kingsley.” The new steadiness in Jamie's voice was chilling. “My baby is in a coma. Who do you think you are coming in here –”

“What's the name of the new medication?”

“I – excuse me? What – what is this, 20 Questions?”

“Sure, let's call it that. So how about you answer one of them with the truth?”

Jamie looked back at me, gape-mouthed and her nostrils growing twice their size.

She bent over to the controls on the side of Jackson's bed, smashing down on the big red button with a cross on it. I could've been tripping, but what she did next looked intentional, like she'd had plenty of practice. She hunched her shoulders forward and ballooned her cheeks, puffing out her mouth to get her face all bright red.

“What the f –”

“Nurse Tim!” Jamie shrieked, panting. “Nurse Tim, get in here!”

There was a screech of sneakers outside before Nurse Tim came stumbling through the door.

“What the devil is going on in here?!” His wide-eyed scowl looked like he was ready for murder.

“He – he is making me feel really uncomfortable,” Jamie sobbed behind her hands. There were absolutely no tears, but she was putting up quite the show. Under different circumstances, I would've been impressed. “I – I'm just trying to be with my son, and he – he – what is he even doing here, Tim? It's after hours. Get him – get him out of here, or I'm calling security –”

Before I could defend myself, Nurse Tim shoved me out of the room. He was pretty strong for such a small dude, too. I caught a glimpse of the relief on Jamie's face as the nurse violently ushered me to the elevators. Now, I tried to say something, but Nurse Tim was real pissed off at me for going back on my word. He refused to let me get a word in and screwed off when the elevator arrived.

XXX

I checked the time on the bottom right corner of the screen, groaning. It was now 3:02 in the morning. Less than 5 hours to go before I had to get up for practice. My ass was gonna be the first one there. I'd set 6 consecutive alarms on my phone – I was going to make it happen.

I didn't know what the hell I was doing, taking this into my own hands. Only thing I was sure about was that I was way out of bounds here. But whatever the fuck I'd just witnessed earlier was all I could think about.

For one, I couldn't ring any alarms yet without some kind of proof. Jamie would have destroyed any evidence she had by now. Second of all, I couldn't sleep without having some kind of answer, or direction, at the very least. The internet being the only tool I had at my disposal, I put that shit to use.

I adjusted the pillows behind me with one hand while I scrolled through the online symptom checker. Jackson's yellowish skin, thinning hair, his weight loss. I even looked up what that white shit on his fingernails was – Mees' lines. Unsurprisingly, because the symptoms I keyed in were vague, it coughed up a whole list of results.

“Leprosy...Hodgkin's Disease...Congestive heart failure...Renal failure...Carbon monoxide poisoning...Metal poisoning...” I was reading them all out loud in an attempt to keep myself from nodding off. But when I got to the next item on the list, the word never made it out of my mouth.

Arsenic poisoning.

Something just clicked.

I mouthed the word over and over again, combing through my thoughts. I knew someone had slipped that word into conversation once, but I couldn't be sure where or how that would have even come up. And just as I was getting a little warmer, my phone beeped twice next to me. I picked up my phone, checking the new message.

The text had 10 characters to it, but it was enough to make my blood freeze over.

“
Last chance. – I
”

Chapter Thirty-Five:
Carrie

“Hold the elevator, please!”

I tapped the “Open” button repeatedly. The doors jolted back just in time. Sloane slipped into the elevator, grasping onto her chest as she caught her breath. As she met eyes with me, she nodded at me sheepishly.

“Ground floor?”

“Yes, please.”

I closed the elevator again. The elevator hummed to life, climbing down the shaft. Sloane and I kept our eyes straight forward. Nothing about the aura in the room felt natural at all. But lo and behold, Sloane the Grudge Queen cracked first. Keep in mind this was the same woman who gives Sally from Accounting shit to this day for cutting in line in the ladies' room 3 years ago.

“How's Jackson?”

“No improvements as of yet. But I know he's hanging in there. I'm on my way to see him right now. He'll probably be awake and on his second tray of food by the time I get there...”

Sloane, hearing the tremble in my voice, draped one arm around me. She inched closer to me, resting the side of her head against mine. I sighed, letting my head sink to her shoulder.

“Everything's gonna work out, Carrie. I just know it will. Jackson's been through worse, right?”

He hasn't, but I knew her intentions were there.

“Let's hope so.”

“And Carrie?” Sloane broke away from me, pinching her lips. “I'm sorry about everything. I should've known better than to fall for office gossip. I didn't know what I was thinking –”

“Forget it. It's over and done with – thank god.” I managed a small smile.

When the elevator doors opened, we ambled out to the lobby, continuing our conversation.

“So, whatever happened with you and Kingsley?” Sloane nudged me on the rib. “Can't say I care too much for Val Presley. He's cute and all, but he's no Kingsley Kelly. Plus, have you seen any of the games? Guy's all talk and no talent on the field, probably the worst Wide Receiver in the...oh, snap. And there he is.”

“What?”

Sloane was right. Val was waiting for me by the curb in front of the building, leaning against his parked Bentley. He was dressed up in designer slacks and a denim button down with the sleeves neatly rolled up to his elbows. Sloane whistled next to me.