Page 71 of The Blame Game

“I know. Isss not banned though.”

“Yes, but it has THC in it.”

“Meh. League won’t make a fuss. Lotsa guys use THC stuff now. Some smoke weed.” Dom laughed. “You don’t wanna know how many of them us’ta do coke in LA.”

“I’m not worried about a drug test, Dom! You shouldn’t have mixed THC with the Flexeril,” Shea said urgently. “They have bad interactions. Especially on top of alcohol!”

“Nah. I’m fiiine.”

“Dom, you are not fine,” Shea said urgently, speaking louder. “I need you to do something for me.”

“What?” He sounded groggy and irritated now.

“Get up. Get out of bed.”

“But ’m tired.”

“I know you are. But I need you to stand up. Can you do that for me, baby?”

There was a heavy groan. “Yeah. ’m standin’.”

“Do you have clothes on?”

“Underwear.”

“Yeah, good enough. Okay, get your keycard. Do you know where that is?”

“On the dresser. With my watch.”

“Good. Grab the key card. Between Dustin, Matty, and the team doc or trainer, whose room is closest to yours?”

“Um, think Matty’s a few rooms down. Dustin’s ’cross the hall.”

“I need you to go across the hall and knock on Dustin’s door. Do you think you can do that for me?” Shea asked tightly.

“Dunno. I feel so tireddd.”

“Baby, I know you do. But I need you to go get Dustin, okay?”

“Gonna wake him up though,” Dom protested.

“That’s okay. He’ll understand.”

“’k.”

To Shea’s relief, he could hear Dom fumbling with the lock and then the slam of a door.

A few agonizing moments later, Shea heard a knock. The line was silent except for Dom’s slow breathing.

“Hey, what’s going on?” a man said, voice rough with sleep.

“Hi, Dustyyy. Shea tol’ me ta come knock on your door.”

“Shea? Who is Shea?” Dustin asked.

“M’ stylist.”

“What the hell Dom. Are you drunk?” Dustin sounded incredulous.

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