Page 154 of Break Point
Who even talks like that?
“Those weren’t my exact words,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “But yeah … pretty much. I just didn’t expect you to fly Jacques in overnight. But I’m so glad you did.”
I smile at Jacques, and Henry flicks hisgaze at me.
What have you done this time, necia?I can practically hear him say.
“I don’t get paid enough,” Drew says, wagging his finger like he’s presenting courtroom evidence. “I’m telling you.”
He absolutely gets paid enough. The solid-gold, diamond-encrusted watch and custom-made designer suit say so loud and clear.
“Anyway …” Drew claps once and produces a box of cigarettes from his pants pocket. “I’ll leave you guys to it. When you’re done, hit me up, and I’ll come back so we can go through the list of sponsors dying to jump in.”
He winks at me and points at Dora.
“We are going to turn him into a superstar!”Drew lets out a hyped little scream and zooms toward the door.And right before he leaves, he pokes his head back in. “Okay … call me!”
And he’s gone.
I shake my head, but God, I love him.
Dora giggles.
Henry exhales slowly as Jacques moves to stand beside him.
That was a lot, even for Drew. Henry hasn’t fully metabolized the anesthesia, and Drew’s already trying to stick his face on a Wheaties box.
I just don’t want him to feel too overwhelmed too soon.
Jacques steps closer, arms crossed gently over his chest, his expression soft but sharp, like he’s trying to gauge how much Henry can handle at this moment.
“You look older.” It’s said with affection, not insult.
Henry lets out a breathy laugh. “I feel older.”
He shifts against the pillows and winces. “I forgot how much this part sucks.”
“The pain?” Jacques asks, pulling the nearby chair closer.
“No.” Henry blinks slowly. “The hope.”
That makes Jacques pause.
“You didn’t have to come,” Henry adds after a beat, quieter now.
“Yes, I did.” Jacques’s tone is firm but kind. “You may be too tired to remember, but the last time we spoke, I told you something.”
Henry’s brow furrows. “You said … I wasn’t finished.”
“I meant it.”
Jacques leansforward slightly.
“You still have a game inside you. Maybe it’s not the same, but maybe it’s grown into something better. Stronger. Only time will tell. But you are not done, Henry.”
Henry swallows. His eyes flicker to mine for half a second before returning to Jacques.
“What if I can’t?” he says, his voice vulnerable and broken. “What if my shoulder gives out for good?”
