Page 46 of Until He Scores

“Thierry... Thierry.” I closed my eyes as the fuckwad came screaming toward the group.

“Look, don’t let him in,” I said. “Thierry doesn’t want his ex-friend anywhere around him. If you need to see the reports I can get them for you, but the guy screaming for Thierry isn’t the best person. He’s been abusing Thier. He just didn’t want anyone to know the truth. Or make waves.”

“Let him go with Thierry,” the man who cut open Thierry’s pants said. “We’ll have security deal with the other one.”

I relaxed then. Taking Thierry’s hand, I waited as the staff continued to fuss with Thierry’s leg. The angry red scar line combined with the white puffy bumps didn’t look good to me. I’d seen infections before while tattooing, but this was worse. I’d never seen a scar look that way.

Five minutes later, a team of EMTs and a paramedic entered the room with a gurney and a red bag filled with medical stuff. The EMTs gathered all the information from who I now realized was the sports medicine person for the team, while the paramedic hooked Thierry up to the heart monitor and started an IV.

“Is he allergic to anything?” the paramedic asked.

I stared at the pale unmoving form of my best friend and shook my head. “Not that I know of, but it’s been a while.”

The man grunted. “No worries. We’ll get it figured out. Can you tell me a little bit about him?”

“He had reconstructive surgery on his knee,” I said, hating how ridiculous I sounded. Had I stayed in contact with him, I could have done a better job of explaining the situation.

“I see,” the guy replied. “Are you going with us?”

I nodded.

“Great. I’ll assess him more on the bus,” the paramedic said. “We’re ready to go.”

“Vanderbilt is where he needs to go,” one of the EMTs said. “Ortho has been notified, and his doctor is on the way to meet us at the bay.”

Guess it paid to be a millionaire hockey star. I followed them out all while a screeching Derrick was held back by three security guards. On the way out, a uniformed officer passed us, and a tiny smirk tugged at my mouth. A small reprieve in a messed up whirlwind situation.

“Pope,” July called out as we stepped out into the cold night air. She stood behind a fence to our left. “I called his parents and Wes. They’ll meet you there. Keep us posted.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

The last thing I saw when we pulled away from the arena was July, Posey, Ireland, and Kayan huddled together watching after us as we sped toward the interstate. It was a straight shot on I-24. Even with the heavy traffic, it would take us twenty minutes to get there. The whole time, I didn’t let go of Thierry’s hand. All I wanted him to do was open his eyes and acknowledge me or anyone. This silence was worse than anything I’d experienced before. At least last time, I knew he was okay. Now, well... I didn’t want to think of what could happen next.

Chapter 18

Pope

Two hours after we arrived at the hospital, I sat in the waiting room with Thierry’s parents and Wes, waiting for word from Dr. Jay about Thierry’s knee. During that time, I became reacquainted with Thierry’s parents. When we were kids, I used to love coming to their house. Mrs. Thomas always had fresh-baked cookies and hot chocolate waiting for us when we got back from a game. If we won, she’d make something special for dinner, then we’d replay all our best moments while sitting at the table. For a little while, I’d been jealous of Thierry. He had the most supportive parents who wanted to know everything about their son and me. Sometimes I wished my dad would’ve been like them.

Rumor had it Mr. Thomas got cancer between Thierry going to college and entering the draft. A pang of guilt lanced my heart. I knew none of this was about me. But I wish I could have helped Thierry and his parents. Sure, Wes stopped by with the guys and did all the things, but I was supposed to be Thierry’s best friend. I fucked all this up so royally.Don’t do this. Not right now.The downward spiral of thoughts did no one any good, especially when nothing I did, or Thierry could do, would change the past.

Shit went sideways.

Period.

All that mattered now was showing up like I had and being where when it mattered most.

I was sure they all had questions, but I didn’t have the answers. The limp Thierry had hadn’t worried me. He said it was part of the healing process and learning how to walk again. Who was I to doubt him? As for what happened at the arena, I couldn’t say anything. Thierry had a way of hiding everything. Like always. So, I did what I always did. I got everyone coffee and breakfast when the sun came up.

Seemed like we’d been there forever when the door opened and Dr. Jay strode toward us, a look of concern mixed with relief on his face.

Exhaustion too.

“That took longer than I hoped,” Dr. Jay started. “I’m sorry I couldn’t provide more updates through the night.”

Mr. Thomas stood and shook the doctor’s hand while I held Mrs. Thomas, afraid to let her go or maybe she was afraid to let me go. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“Let’s sit,” Dr. Jay said. “I could use a breather.” The man had the best bedside manner I’d ever encountered. His affable smile and gentle demeanor drained some of the tension between my shoulders. When he was ready, he glanced at us. “Six months ago, when I did his replacement surgery, I believed what I found within the bone and tissue surrounding the joint was an aggressive infection that antibiotics couldn’t touch. So, I did what I thought was best. I cleaned everything out and replaced his knee then placed him on three weeks’ worth of full spectrum intravenous antibiotics.”

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