Page 15 of Deceit & Destruction

And forget the fucking draft—I’m done.

The room suddenly feels too small. The bed a prison. I push through the pain and put myself into sitting position.

“What are you doing?” Webber snaps.

I don’t respond. Instead, I pull the IV from my right arm and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Webber rushes toward me.

“Man, what the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t get up.”

I glare at him.

“Watch me,” I growl. “Now, you can either get out of my way or I can move you out of the way myself. I’m a leftie, so there is a fifty-fifty shot I’ll miss. The odds are in your favor.”

Muttering a curse, he shakes his head.

Looks like the saint is finally losing his patience with me.

Good.

“You’re fucking impossible,” he growls, but steps out of my way. I push myself up and out of the bed, nearly tripping on the strings of the hospital gown. I guess there is a part of me thatislucky considering someone thought it would be a good idea to keep my sweatpants on, saving me the embarrassment of my ass hanging out of the gown. It’s a small victory I suppose.

“Where are you going?” Webber calls.

I’m not completely deranged. I know I can’t just walk out of the hospital, but I need some space. I need to process everything I worked for is completely unattainable. I need to figure out how I’m going to tell my mother all her sacrifices were in vain, that I’m destined to amount to nothing just like my old man.

I pause by the door and turn back to Webber. A pang of guilt hits my gut.

“I need to clear my head. I’m going for a walk.”

“Fine, but at least let me come with you.”

I shake my head.

“Look, man, I appreciate you, but I need a minute to digest the fact I’ll never go pro.”

“That’s not true, Robinson. Coach Riley will—”

I hold up a hand, stopping him from going any further.

“I need to mourn, man.”

He pulls in a breath, crossing his arms under his chest.

“Fine,” he relents, his gaze falling to the duffel bag on the foot of the bed. “What do you want me to do with this?” he asks, tipping his chin toward it.

Primo won’t give two fucks that I got into a car accident and if I’m being honest, moving his product is the least of my concerns.

“Burn it for all I care.”

I’ve got nothing left to lose.

With those parting words, I exit the room. I immediately spot Alex and Victoria at the end of the hallway. They stop speaking to one another and both look at me. If I wasn’t just delivered the worse news of my life, I might ask why they’re even here. It’s not like either of them give a shit about me.

Turning my back to them, I start in the other direction. A nurse calls for me, but I pay her no mind because just as I round the corner, I catch sight of Professor Blackthorne walking into another patient’s room.

My troubles fade from the forefront of my mind as I recall the conversation Webber and I had about Cassie. A weird feeling creeps into my bones and before I even realize what I’m doing, I follow him. His voice booms from behind the curtain as I reach the door.

“Is it true?” He growls, his tone venomous.

---